It's wicked to mock the afflicted

"Watch out for the them." The new guy in our office is talking to Mr. Racecar.
"Who?" As I walk into the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee. Even I, occasionally feel the need to socialize.
"The Pakis."
Unfamiliar with the popular music of today, I ask, "Who are the Pakis."
"The Pakistanis. They have taken over huge parts of town. The police won't
even go into their part of town. None of them know how to drive. They have no respect for the law."
As I mentally note to avoid the new guy and give Mr. Racecar fourteen demerits (looks like he is two away from me hiding a dead fish behind his book shelf).
"Oh yes. That's very true. Did you know it is Paki custom for boys to kill a white man before they themselves are considered a man? Their monkey god demands it." I use the confused expressions like a batman utility belt smoke bomb and make my escape from the room.