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Good things keep happening to Bobby Draper.

I had this month's copy of BIG BLACK BUTT magazine. I've been a loyal subscriber for years. Needless to say I was a little busy when that idiot Hassan yelled that we were being robbed. I had to readjust my clothes real fast as I ran out of the back. If anything was taken, I'd be a dead man. The old bat would fire me on the spot. Somebody tried to rob us before, some neighbourhood punks who didn't even have guns. These fools actually showed up with bats if you could believe that. Who carries baseball bats as weapons in this day and age? Especially in a violent town like Washington D.C.? Anyhow, I ran to the front. And found Hassan struggling with two Black guys with durags on their heads. And they both had guns. Oh, shit.

One of them pointed his guns at me. I recognized the fool. Jamal Woods. I went to high school with that bastard if you can believe that. He banged Nerina Johnson, this fine-ass Jamaican chick I had a thing for. She was a religious chick who believed in waiting for marriage while dating me but she gave up the booty to Jamal. I've hated Jamal ever since. Especially since he got Nerina pregnant and then dumped her ass. He corrupted a good woman and made a decent brother like me look like a fool. When I saw Jamal, I forgot about his guns. I just went up to that punk and punched him right on his mouth. I don't know who was more surprised, him or me. Jamal staggered under the force of the blow. He fell but I guess his backpack broke his fall because he didn't seem to be hurting from hitting the floor. At the same time, I noticed he had a gold chain with a weird Medallion around his neck. It was The Medallion. A priceless jewel belonging to the old lady from Mali. I snatched it from his neck...and then all hell broke loose.

I'm not sure how or why, but the Medallion began to glow, and blue-white energy came out of it. Just like something out of the Sci-Fi Channel, fam. A vortex was formed by the energy, and it sucked both Jamal and I inside. And just like that, two Black guys from America found themselves transported from Washington D.C. in the summer of 2011 to the strange world of Mali in Africa, circa 800 B.C. The first thing I noticed when I landed was that I sure as hell wasn't in Washington D.C. anymore. D.C. has some rough spots but it's a concrete jungle, not an actual jungle. I landed in a puddle, right beside Jamal's dumb ass. We were still struggling. I was on top of the fool, trying to knock him out when we crashed through space and time. I think the water and our weird surroundings sobered us up, but I'm not sure. We definitely weren't in D.C. anymore.

Jamal and I stopped fighting, and gazed at our surroundings. Neither of us had ever seen a jungle before. And we had no idea how in hell we got there. Jamal was mad as shit. He pointed his gun at me and ordered me to send him back to the frigging store. He accused me of doing some voodoo magic crap. Just because I'm Haitian-American. I punched him and he punched me back. I hate it when people play up stereotypes about Haitians in my presence. I'm a Christian man and don't believe in the voodoo shit.

Anyhow, we stopped fighting because we heard a truly creepy sound. The unmistakable sound of a woman screaming. Without a word being spoken, we headed toward the sound. I think it's some deep chivalry thing because Jamal and I just went there in unison, in spite of our differences. We ran through the jungle, and came upon a clearing. There, we saw something amazing for the second time that day. Three young Black women clad in bright red tunics and wielding long spears struggled against a trio of bronze-skinned, burly guys. At first I thought they were guys. Once we got closer, I realized they weren't guys at all. They looked like cavemen. Ugly forehead, weird teeth and excessive body hair.

The young Black women kept hitting them with the spears.

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