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Imagine it. A creme poster. The exact smooth color of delicate, yet powerful authority. The color to swoon over every opposer and follower the creme sets eyes on. A creme's presence is already known, as you can sense an aura of superiority and objective greatness just being within the vicinity of a creme. From mental, to physical, to emotional attributions, the creme is simply unparalleled despite the enemy's best efforts.
Imagine the day in the life of a creme. You wake up, remembering the night before. Ah, a fruitful night. You impregnated every woman within your general vicinity with strong, fertile creme seed. You get out of your bed, looking around to fine a similar sight; a New York penthouse given to you by a quite affluent woman you dated years ago, but soon dumped after finding out she prefers the infidels. The chocolate barbarians scraping the streets and ruining the strong, powerful atmosphere any creme possesses.
You get dressed, with only the best of tailored clothes, to compliment your excellent creme figure and posture. You do not work, as banks give any cremes unimaginable wealth just for being cremes.
You go outside to be greeted by your personal limo, which takes you to a clubhouse which is creme exclusive. On the way, you pass through the Ghetto. This is a part of the city where the underlings and scum of society reside. The peeps, the minis, the peanut butter, and the chocolates. They scream in joy and envy as an authentic creme passes through their bottom-feeder district. Some of them try throwing rocks at your limo, only to be detained by the creme police force, many being your friend.
Life is good as a creme, don't you ever wince in envy being scum?
