I Am Overpowered And A Comedian In Another World

I am Racist. … I mean, my name is Racis T. I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him. One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence. That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker. Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death. But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway. All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that. Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there. But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money. Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way. Because, well—there was an afterlife. And it was absolutely not what I wished for. ——— ——— ——— Gib Money - ko-fi.com/khyaal Join My Discord For Reference Arts and much more - https://discord.gg/zmUcswM2N5