Tell us what happened, oh Bluemin. Tell us about the Olive N i g g e r., of the time before he became an Olive. Tell us how he became to be, oh Bluemin!
''Very well, children. Listen closely...'', said Bluemin as he slapped the ass of a peasant girl real quick, and he began to tell:
It was a beautiful day in the Blue Realm, as Bluemin strolled through the countryside with his dear Guardsmen. Suddenly, Ioannis, one of the Guards (rumour has it he's the long-lost descendant of Ioannis Metaxas, but this is not confirmed) started to tell a story. For gazillions of kilometers, he just couldn't stop talking about an ancient Greek folk story, told from generation to generation, about why Greeks sometimes were being called Olive N i g g e r s. Bluemin listened to this exceptional story and halted the column. He walked up to him, and said: ''Well, if you like olives that much, be one forever!'' The whole Guard watched in horror as the Greek shrunk and shrunk, his skin went from
white brown to black, until a little black olive was laying on the road. ''I'll call you Olive N i g g e r from now on'', proclaimed Bluemin, ''and I shall give you the ability to fly!'' This being said, the little Olive flew into the air, and the column continued its march, with the Olive N i g g e r ahead.
- He can fly
- Knowing every Greek fascist song by heart
- He can spawn olives