What a Fedora Imagines When He Orders Black Coffee

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>*A portly fellow in a flame shirt waddles to the counter of a Starbucks*
>"What would you like sir?"
>*The atheist squints around the coffee bar, his hands at the sides of his khaki shorts like he had two holsters. With one hand he expertly pulls out his wallet and with the other, he brings the tip of his hat down before placing his order*
>"Coffee. Black."
>*A hush falls over the patrons and staff. Women gush in their panties as whispers from men can't believe what's transpiring. The barista looks like he's about to faint, his grip on the cup furiously shaking as he slides it over the counter to our hero. If this order is taking place in the ghetto, several black people go DAAAAAAAAAAAMN*
>*The cheetoh avenger slaps down a sticky five and a quarter with his hamhock fist before mumbling to no one that they should "keep the change", knowing he's a far more euphoric human being than people that put sugar or milk in their coffee*

Don't worry dauntless fans of this sodium-hearted man of action, he'll be back in next weeks tantalizing issue, "I'll Have EVERYTHING With Bacon..."