G. Zimmerman taken into custody after allegedly threatening wife (no charges filed)

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No sooner did Shellie hang up her call with GZus did Lorri appear seemingly out of nowhere. Startled by her sister's appearance Shellie gasped clutching her chest.

"Jesus you scared the shit out of me Lorri! GZus is on his way over, Lorri I have to ask you....who was that black guy?" Lorri just stood in the hallway looking down at the ground. Shellie could barely make out her sister in the dark but could tell something was off about her, Lorri began to slowly walk towards Shellie not saying anything. Shellie's hairs began to stand up on the back of her neck, she could see remnents of the purple haze that was outside of Shellie's door minutes ago and grew more hesistant as Lorri inched closer.

"Lorri, you need to talk to me sweetie. Are you okay?" Lorri said nothing and continued to walk towards Shellie. Her skin had darked a bit and her hair started to form what could only be described as dreadlocks. Dreadlocks were strictly banned in several parts of Florida due to their spiritual background and made for great conduits for malevolent spirits of the darker variety.

"I was right" Shellie said, she turned and began to ran towards the stairs calling out her father. "Dad, it's Lorri! She's been possessed by the spirit! GZus was right!" There was no response to be had. Shellie had no time to think and continued to make her way towards the stairs. Lorri grabbed her and Shellie let out a scream, for she had looked into Shellie's eyes and she was met with a dehumanizing stare, it was at that point that Shellie knew...the Lorri she knew was gone.

The yellowed eyes gazed back at her and her blackened lips parted with a smile before whispering into her ear "Now George will have no choice but to put us all down. I will have my revenge!" Her voice was raspy but sweet, destructive and uneven but harmonic. Shellie could do nothing and felt herself giving into her baser instincts. She was succumbing to the spirit's words, the purple haze she saw before was swirling around both of them. She could only look on in terror, no screams escaped her lips, no tears rolled down her face. The purple haze entered through her nose and mouth and she felt her soul bonding with...something. She put up no struggle, no offered no resistance she tasted the blackness and there was no going back. Her vision blurred, her memories ran together and slowly everything faded to black.

Author's notes: I hope GZus can save his wife and family before it's too late.
 
BobLoblaw said:
He's pulling the same shit he did with his ex. She filed a restraining order against him saying that he attacked her and then he filed a restraining order saying that she attacked him. Same thing with Trayvon. He claimed he was the aggressor. Seriously, fuck that guy.
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It's been working out for him so far.
 
EmCeeGramr said:
To Father Zimmermann's horror, Martin turned his face. The man had been well known in Trier for his pale skin and golden hair. Now it was black as coal, with hair like wire.
...
Zimmermann, terrifed, reached into his robes and produced a matchlock pistol and flint. The demon's eyes widened for a moment in fear.

"This, this is your weakness, isn't it," the priest shouted as he prepared to fire. "I've read about your kind. With this, it'll take time for you to steal flesh again. Time enough for me to purify and prepare."
...
He heard a rapping at the door and shouted a greeting. Four priests and three of the most loyal guardsmen entered his study.

"My friends, we have gathered here today to undertake a task of mortal importance. We will become the first society of negro spirit hunters."
Click to expand...

The prequel. This is amazing.
 
Angelus Errare said:
George was at his home pouring over the notes fellow negro spirit slayers left him, for months George feared that the spirit of Travyon Martin was still in this realm and that his job was not yet complete.

"What did I miss?!" George yelled out in frustration, his downed his Mike's Hard Lemonade and slumped in his chair, it took the edge off his heightened spirit slayer senses. "I did everything correct to get rid of the demon, yet he still lives?" George could not comprehend why or how Trayvon's evil spirit had touched so many. Tilting his head back he stared at the yellowed ceiling, his father's words repeating through his head "They shall not see you as a hero my young son. It will be a thankless job and the evil negro spirit will continue to bring our people to their side. Set aside your petty desires to be seen as hero and know you do The One True God's work."

Frustrated, George threw his bottle onto the floor, the bottle shattered sending shards of glass flying around the study. George buried his face into his hands and let out a long drawn out sigh. He wondered if he must spend the rest of his life hunting this spirit, he wondered if he would ever be able to settle down and achieve true happiness. Before he could get lost in his thoughts his cellphone rang. It was Shellie, Ms. Zimmerman's sister. George's heart sunk and he got a knot in his throat upon reading her text message.

"Come quick GZus, there's this thick lingering purple haze everywhere, and I just saw black guy in hoodie named Martin Trevon leaving Lorri's room and we can't get her to respond. There's Arizona tea in the fridge, I'm scared. The cops won't be able to help with this, you have to come now!"

George begged the One True God for it not to be what he believed it was and begged for some semblance of happiness and to spare his wife his life of misery. As sudden as his emotional state came, it left just as quickly. George opened his armory and grabbed his hunting gear. He knew what he might had to do and he knew that everyone in that house could be possessed by Travyon's spirit.

George had two missions tonight, purge the spirit from his family, and find it's familiar one black man named Martin Trevon before he bred more fair skinned women. He had finished preparing for a night of slaying and rushed to the door. He stopped before leaving and grabbed his iPod; the American Flag vynil on the backside glowed in the darkness and set George's heart at easy. He put the headphones in his ear and hit play, "Thrift Shop" by Mackelmore blasted through headphones. "The first mainstream rapper in years to actually have something to say." Zimmerman muttered before closing the door to his sanctuary.
Click to expand...

I2sexuL.gif
 
"He’s in his car and he continually has his hand on his gun and he keeps saying 'step closer' and he’s just threatening all of us," Shellie Zimmerman said in the 911 call, adding that George Zimmerman was "trying to shut the garage door" on her.
Click to expand...


Wow, this is really out of character for Zimmerman.

After he chased down Martin all he said was "I'm sorry for following you all this time, but I needed to ask for directions? I'm unfamiliar with the streets around here."

And now we're supposed to believe he would put his hand on his gun and make threats? I don't know...
 
Anyone want to defend this asshole now?
Angelus Errare said:
George was at his home pouring over the notes fellow negro spirit slayers left him, for months George feared that the spirit of Travyon Martin was still in this realm and that his job was not yet complete.

"What did I miss?!" George yelled out in frustration, his downed his Mike's Hard Lemonade and slumped in his chair, it took the edge off his heightened spirit slayer senses. "I did everything correct to get rid of the demon, yet he still lives?" George could not comprehend why or how Trayvon's evil spirit had touched so many. Tilting his head back he stared at the yellowed ceiling, his father's words repeating through his head "They shall not see you as a hero my young son. It will be a thankless job and the evil negro spirit will continue to bring our people to their side. Set aside your petty desires to be seen as hero and know you do The One True God's work."

Frustrated, George threw his bottle onto the floor, the bottle shattered sending shards of glass flying around the study. George buried his face into his hands and let out a long drawn out sigh. He wondered if he must spend the rest of his life hunting this spirit, he wondered if he would ever be able to settle down and achieve true happiness. Before he could get lost in his thoughts his cellphone rang. It was Shellie, Ms. Zimmerman's sister. George's heart sunk and he got a knot in his throat upon reading her text message.

"Come quick GZus, there's this thick lingering purple haze everywhere, and I just saw black guy in hoodie named Martin Trevon leaving Lorri's room and we can't get her to respond. There's Arizona tea in the fridge, I'm scared. The cops won't be able to help with this, you have to come now!"

George begged the One True God for it not to be what he believed it was and begged for some semblance of happiness and to spare his wife his life of misery. As sudden as his emotional state came, it left just as quickly. George opened his armory and grabbed his hunting gear. He knew what he might had to do and he knew that everyone in that house could be possessed by Travyon's spirit.

George had two missions tonight, purge the spirit from his family, and find it's familiar one black man named Martin Trevon before he bred more fair skinned women. He had finished preparing for a night of slaying and rushed to the door. He stopped before leaving and grabbed his iPod; the American Flag vynil on the backside glowed in the darkness and set George's heart at easy. He put the headphones in his ear and hit play, "Thrift Shop" by Mackelmore blasted through headphones. "The first mainstream rapper in years to actually have something to say." Zimmerman muttered before closing the door to his sanctuary.
Click to expand...
Dude, you have a gift.
 
Fox News: Zimmerman's wife pushed George with mental abuse at home, causing him to have an "unfit" mind when the Trayvon incident happened.

Not real, but wouldn't be surprised!
 
Enron said:
I covered that already in an earlier post - "another" witness in addition to the city worker who was across the street, who wouldn't have been in position to see a gun in someone's lap as they sat in a car. Had you bothered to read my post, that is.
Click to expand...

Sorry, there are so many posts in this thread and I'm on my iPhone. The way I view the forum, I can't see who makes what's posts.

No need to be rude, you know...
 
nemss said:
Fox News: Zimmerman's wife pushed George with mental abuse at home, causing him to have an "unfit" mind when the Trayvon incident happened.

Not real, but wouldn't be surprised!
Click to expand...

Are you sure that's not real? Because that sounds like it's ripped straight from their website.
 
MORE NEXT WEEK AS THE CROSSOVER OF THE CENTURY CONTINUES

ANGELUS

EMCEE

OPERATION CALIPHATE: ORIGINS
 
Zimmerman's wife needs to marry the blackest man alive... just for the comedic value. Also, this really doesn't make the NRA look good, does it?
 
Devolution said:
His true character has always been exposed, it just wasn't relevant to people who propped him up as a hero.
Click to expand...


Still isn't. Just checked theblaze.com, and yup, commenters are basically like "we don't know the facts"; MSM SET IT UP!; and some variation of an Obama secret plant.

smdh
 
peterb0y said:
Still isn't. Just checked theblaze.com, and yup, commenters are basically like "we don't know the facts"; MSM SET IT UP!; and some variation of an Obama secret plant.

smdh
Click to expand...

Right, again, it's irrelevant to the people who put him up on a pedestal. This can all be explained away, yet again, as someone screwing him over despite the common denominator each and every time.
 
Shellie Zimmerman's 911 call said:
"He’s in his car and he continually has his hand on his gun and he keeps saying 'step closer'..."
Click to expand...

Obviously George is having flashbacks to that night with Trayvon.
 
George collapsed on the bed. He had failed. Utterly, completely failed. His family was in the hands of the demon. No one would believe him, not after Caliph Obama's smear campaign over the last year. Tears welled in his eyes. As a boy he always thought aht his grandfather's stupid stories about negrhosts were fake. He wished now that they were. He wanted to wake up in a world where he hadn't been attacked by that hulking giant Martin, where he hadn't been chained in Obama's dungeon waiting for a sentence. Jesus Christ, Odin, and Quetzalcoatl had saved him from jail once. Would they save him again? Was this all a trial?

Suddenly, he felt a presence in the room. His years of experience (mental scenarios) sprung into action, quickly unholstering his firearm and assuming a tactical stance for tactical action. A meek old man was standing by the door.

"Who are you? Answer now!" The old man didn't look like another Black Panther assassin-borg, but their cloaking technology had become increasingly advanced over the last few months.

"It's all right, George. I'm here to help."

The man's words were soothing. The man felt like someone George could trust, like a priest or doctor.

"That's right, George. I am a doctor. A doctor for people, and for America."

"Wait... did you read my mind?"

"Minds aren't read, George. They speak out to any who can hear. And yours is crying out."

"Wait... you're that politician guy... Ron Paul. Why are you here, Mr. Pau- er, I mean Congressman Paul?"

"Dr. Paul, is all right, George. And I'm here because I was sent. You need something to help you in this fight. Your current weapon won't do you any good. Not anymore."

George was skeptical. His current gun was a tactical Kel-Tec tactical pistol with two tactical sights and tactical grip. According to the ancient guidelines, everything should be fine for the average slaying.

"This is no average slaying, George," responded Dr. Paul after George had scarcely finished his thought. "'Martin' returned after barely a year and a half after his exorcism. And he's more powerful than ever. His time is at hand. His master gives him new strength."

"Obama..."

"Yes. I tried to warn you. And now it's happening."

"But... what weapon can stop this?"

Suddenly a glittering and blinding light filled the room. A revolver made of pure gold appeared in Dr. Paul's hands.

Gold? George had to stop from laughing. Gold was notoriously unfit for gunmaking. And a revolver? It couldn't even have a tactical magazine attached to it.

"This is no ordinary gold, George. This is purestrain gold. Once it was the source of America's greatness. Then fiat currency came, and all was lost. This gold cannot be changed by any force other than a man's will. Until we can make a printed gun from Bitcoins, it is the most potent firearm in this world. This... is the Gold .45 Revolver."
 
nemss said:
Fox News: Zimmerman's wife pushed George with mental abuse at home, causing him to have an "unfit" mind when the Trayvon incident happened.

Not real, but wouldn't be surprised!
Click to expand...

She's already facing a litany of scandalous shit.

Protect the bald fatty at all costs!
 
EmCeeGramr said:
George collapsed on the bed. He had failed. Utterly, completely failed. His family was in the hands of the demon. No one would believe him, not after Caliph Obama's smear campaign over the last year. Tears welled in his eyes. As a boy he always thought aht his grandfather's stupid stories about negrhosts were fake. He wished now that they were. He wanted to wake up in a world where he hadn't been attacked by that hulking giant Martin, where he hadn't been chained in Obama's dungeon waiting for a sentence. Jesus Christ, Odin, and Quetzalcoatl had saved him from jail once. Would they save him again? Was this all a trial?

Suddenly, he felt a presence in the room. His years of experience (mental scenarios) sprung into action, quickly unholstering his firearm and assuming a tactical stance for tactical action. A meek old man was standing by the door.

"Who are you? Answer now!" The old man didn't look like another Black Panther assassin-borg, but their cloaking technology had become increasingly advanced over the last few months.

"It's all right, George. I'm here to help."

The man's words were soothing. The man felt like someone George could trust, like a priest or doctor.

"That's right, George. I am a doctor. A doctor for people, and for America."

"Wait... did you read my mind?"

"Minds aren't read, George. They speak out to any who can hear. And yours is crying out."

"Wait... you're that politician guy... Ron Paul. Why are you here, Mr. Pau- er, I mean Congressman Paul?"

"Dr. Paul, is all right, George. And I'm here because I was sent. You need something to help you in this fight. Your current weapon won't do you any good. Not anymore."

George was skeptical. His current gun was a tactical Kel-Tec tactical pistol with two tactical sights and tactical grip. According to the ancient guidelines, everything should be fine for the average slaying.

"This is no average slaying, George," responded Dr. Paul after George had scarcely finished his thought. "'Martin' returned after barely a year and a half after his exorcism. And he's more powerful than ever. His time is at hand. His master gives him new strength."

"Obama..."

"Yes. I tried to warn you. And now it's happening."

"But... what weapon can stop this?"

Suddenly a glittering and blinding light filled the room. A revolver made of pure gold appeared in Dr. Paul's hands.

Gold? George had to stop from laughing. Gold was notoriously unfit for gunmaking. And a revolver? It couldn't even have a tactical magazine attached to it.

"This is no ordinary gold, George. This is purestrain gold. Once it was the source of America's greatness. Then fiat currency came, and all was lost. This gold cannot be changed by any force other than a man's will. Until we can make a printed gun from Bitcoins, it is the most potent firearm in this world. This... is the Gold .45 Revolver."
Click to expand...

This is comedy gold lol EmCeeGrammr you and Angelus should make a parody story
 
nemss said:
Fox News: Zimmerman's wife pushed George with mental abuse at home, causing him to have an "unfit" mind when the Trayvon incident happened.

Not real, but wouldn't be surprised!
Click to expand...
Nah, Fox would never take that angle, because it implies Zimmerman was actually guilty of something.
 
EmCeeGramr said:
George collapsed on the bed. He had failed. Utterly, completely failed. His family was in the hands of the demon. No one would believe him, not after Caliph Obama's smear campaign over the last year. Tears welled in his eyes. As a boy he always thought aht his grandfather's stupid stories about negrhosts were fake. He wished now that they were. He wanted to wake up in a world where he hadn't been attacked by that hulking giant Martin, where he hadn't been chained in Obama's dungeon waiting for a sentence. Jesus Christ, Odin, and Quetzalcoatl had saved him from jail once. Would they save him again? Was this all a trial?

Suddenly, he felt a presence in the room. His years of experience (mental scenarios) sprung into action, quickly unholstering his firearm and assuming a tactical stance for tactical action. A meek old man was standing by the door.

"Who are you? Answer now!" The old man didn't look like another Black Panther assassin-borg, but their cloaking technology had become increasingly advanced over the last few months.

"It's all right, George. I'm here to help."

The man's words were soothing. The man felt like someone George could trust, like a priest or doctor.

"That's right, George. I am a doctor. A doctor for people, and for America."

"Wait... did you read my mind?"

"Minds aren't read, George. They speak out to any who can hear. And yours is crying out."

"Wait... you're that politician guy... Ron Paul. Why are you here, Mr. Pau- er, I mean Congressman Paul?"

"Dr. Paul, is all right, George. And I'm here because I was sent. You need something to help you in this fight. Your current weapon won't do you any good. Not anymore."

George was skeptical. His current gun was a tactical Kel-Tec tactical pistol with two tactical sights and tactical grip. According to the ancient guidelines, everything should be fine for the average slaying.

"This is no average slaying, George," responded Dr. Paul after George had scarcely finished his thought. "'Martin' returned after barely a year and a half after his exorcism. And he's more powerful than ever. His time is at hand. His master gives him new strength."

"Obama..."

"Yes. I tried to warn you. And now it's happening."

"But... what weapon can stop this?"

Suddenly a glittering and blinding light filled the room. A revolver made of pure gold appeared in Dr. Paul's hands.

Gold? George had to stop from laughing. Gold was notoriously unfit for gunmaking. And a revolver? It couldn't even have a tactical magazine attached to it.

"This is no ordinary gold, George. This is purestrain gold. Once it was the source of America's greatness. Then fiat currency came, and all was lost. This gold cannot be changed by any force other than a man's will. Until we can make a printed gun from Bitcoins, it is the most potent firearm in this world. This... is the Gold .45 Revolver."
Click to expand...

These are amazing
 
Angelus Errare said:
He put the headphones in his ear and hit play, "Thrift Shop" by Mackelmore blasted through headphones. "The first mainstream rapper in years to actually have something to say." Zimmerman muttered before closing the door to his sanctuary.
Click to expand...

The fact you worked a jab at CliffyB into George Zimmerman fanfic makes me love you so hard.
 
this all needs to be compiled and put on fanfiction.net or something. it can't end here. I HAVE TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT

will george zimmerman be able to defeat caliph imam hussein obama????
 
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