Sesquipedalian Octogenarian Aryan Rhinoceroses are the best kind you see, they’re patient, loving, tolerable and white to some degree. Maybe your children will be able to see them still, unless the blacks poach the last that are living free.
Perhaps the ancient white ones, with tusks so long and white, shall trample down a marauding band of pirates lurking around at night. Think not too hard of extinction, they are the last of a few, maybe we’ll be lucky and we can clone some more for you.
They’re better than the Asiatics, hardier than most, absurdly better than Sub-Saharan, they drink and then they toast. They fight naught and whine none, pure of heart and skin tone the Aryan Rhino tramples on. It creates a path for the blacks to follow, villages these highways make, for without them they would wander and in the sun be baked. The Aryan Rhinos, the life givers under the sun, they lead the way and kill the gay, fucking cheetahs son.
Why wouldst thou hatest upon them, for their way of life? The Aryan Rhino stands firm like a mighty oak, of the woodland northern lands, firm and strong, breaks not under duress.