I'm listening attentively to a kabuki-style lecture series on the persecution of Asian-Americans at the Belcourt Theater in Nashville, Tenn with my high school AP English class.
"Welcome, Engrish shittirens," the lead Asian-American says.
Right in the middle of the lotus flower presentation, a corpulent young man begins teabagging me. But it's not a fratty John Belushi-type teabag. It's more of a wink-wink type teabag.
I don't take too kindly to this. "This fat young Asian man is raping me with his scrotum," I cry out loudly.
The kabuki performers are aghast. Faces turn in the crowd.
Finally, my beloved English teacher Kristen Carwile escorts the teabagger to the nearest exit. Once outside the Belcourt Theater, a muscled Village People-esque SWAT team proceeds to beat the shit out of him.
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