Serious Brahs, here’s the story.
It was my father, DadBrah’s birthday and some of my family members were coming to visit us. I decided to head off to WoolWorths to get some food for the guests.
My father’s side of the family is extremely military orientated. So naturally we had to impress them. If any other cunt visited my house, I’d fucking buy shit from Checkers Hyper.
A long time ago, I remember I went into WoolWorths to buy some biltong. It was fifty fucking rand. No thanks.
I’d rather skin the bird that DogBrah killed, gooi it on the washing line and leave it to dry for a week. I’ll make my own damn biltong. Call me InventorBrah.
Always, brahs, always know when to spend your money. I’m ambitious as fuck. I flip burgers at Steers so well that Gordan Ramsay would bow down to me. I’m chasing that mula.
Anyway, I step into WoolWorths and well I guess I was the only “worthy” one there. Everyone went on insta-mire mode when SWOLE PATROL entered the vicinity.
I go to the cake section and start looking for an appropriate one. Some phaggot pokes his hand near the birthday cake I was eyeing out.
“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?” I ask the phaggot as he trembles in fear.
“S-sorry. I didn’t know,” He tries to respond. I take the phaggot by the ears and point to some three layer BEASTLY chocolate cake.
“You see this cake? That represents me. ‘Mire the swole,” I say. I then point to a lonely shitty cupcake at the end of the table.
“You see this? This is you!” I shout. I then take the cupcake and throw it on the ground to stamp on it. The phaggot gets so scared, he runs away.
Just as he sprints off, an 8/10 beauty starts browsing for cupcakes. This is my lucky day! She picks up one of those fucking red cupcakes the girls go crazy about.
“Oh you wouldn’t want that,” I reply as I put on my aviators.
“I’m sorry? Who are you?” She says while she secretly ‘mires the swole.
“I’m Dr. Swole- I’m an expert in baked goods,” I lie.
“Is that even such a thing? And I like these cupcakes,” She says.
“We are here to assist the public. Why don’t you look at these,” I reply as I point to some phaggot blue cupcakes. I didn’t even know what the fuck I was talking about.
I mean, I am a cake expert… but not the kind of cakes we were looking at right now.
“So, you study to be a… Cake Expert?” She says.
“Of course! I just got my PHD in Cake Expertise. I do love a good cake,” I say with a smile. CakeBrah is probably clueless about the hidden meaning in my words.
“Does the job pay well?” She asks as she looks over at some rolls.
“When you care for a cake well enough and you will reap the rewards,” I say.
“Well that’s nice. It’s good to see someone ambitious,” She replies with a smile.
Of course I was fucking ambitious, you think would have Steers received their good reputation if I hadn’t worked their? Fuck no.
“Anyway, I must go. I have an appointment with the Arch Bishop Desmond Tutu. He needs advice in buying cakes as he wants to cheer up his sick friend… Nelson,” I say as I look at my watch.
“Wow! That’s impressive! You know before you go, take my number. Maybe I’ll need your expertise in the future,” She says with a wink.
So later that night I called her…
and the Doctor Swole inspected a very different cake instead.
I smashed her with the force of 5000 angry South Africans when Eskom decides to load shed.