Get you some, Dr Azathoth
[ Pete Trable is seen in his recording studio, laying down the final track to his soon-to-be hit, “Girl, You Gots a Big Ol’ Ass”, his “gansta” version of Sir Mix-A-Lot’s bubble gummy “Baby Got Back”. Pete is again wearing SUPER BAGGY jeans, showing his ass covered only by yellow polka dot Joe Boxers. He also has on a pair of tan Lugz boots, barely visible under his dual, 50 fold pant legs. Pete sports a vintage Yankees’ throwback, which is a bit redundant since their logo or jersey has never changed in their what? 100-year history? Okay, so it’s not TECHNICALLY a throwback--- but don’t tell Pete that.
Segue--- Pete’s black with blonde tip, military flat-topped hair is hidden under a reversed Red Sox cap, a traditional styled blue one with the red “B”. Now, the fact that Pete has mixed bitter rivals Boston and New York to his outfit either says a) He doesn’t watch baseball or b) He doesn’t give a damn. Probably c) though---which is both a) and b).
Pete’s “Just for Men” blackened goatee looks as though it needs a touch up as some gray hairs are prevalent close to his skin. Pete doesn’t care because he’s working--- until he sees the camera that is to record his next promo, the one in regards to Dr. Azathoth. He cracks his own knuckles, and cuts loose with that voice that sounds like he just gargled with shards of glass.]
Pete: “Ah yeeeeeeeeeeeeah. ‘Bout time, know wha I’m sayin’?
Yo, I got a bite already and I just STARTED fishin’—
Got a foo’ thinks he can beat me, but dat foo’s just WISHIN’!
I mean really, Dr. Azz-hole, what tha hell you been smokin’?
You think you can hang wit this, man? Fo’ shizzle my nizzle, you JOKIN’!
I’m serious, yo— me fightin’ you would get STUPID messy—-
Kinda like me beatin’ up dat Magoo glasses bitch SALLY JESSE!
You no challenge for me, dogg— you just a ‘tarded boob—
Dumbass don’t even know tha cat in “Three Kings” was ICE CUBE!
No standin’ eight for you, chump— it’d be a straight up knockout—-
Turn off your lights quicker than last Friday’s BLACKOUT!
I’ll take on you AND your boy and STILL can’t go wrong-
Ain’t goin’ out to a punk from a Styx SONG!
Look at him, people— and realize he just blows—-
Watch me whip him very mucho, that Mr. Atom-O!
And how can I be scared of some foo’ named Azathoth?
Sheeeeeeeit— I’m more intimidated by DAVID HASSELHOFF!
Which is not at all, yo—‘cause he’s like pushin’ fifty—
Suckin’ his gut in every time dat homo’s on TEE VEE!
I’ll whoop all THREE of ya’ll, and I’d do it chilled easy—
Make your ass disappear just like CHANDRA LEVY!
So Mr. Promoter dude, make this happen, yo— it don’t matter—
Since Passive Man’s YELLAH, I’ll just move up tha LADDER!
And then I’ll spank these monkeys like I do my broke CD burner—
I’ll be tha Ike— ya know, like to their TINA TURNER!
Or maybe I won’t— it just don’t seem fair—-
Unless Christopher Reeves makes room for them in his freakin’ wheelCHAIR!
There’s no comp in this fed for The X-Factor Pete Trable—
But if there is, step up— while your sorry ass is still ABLE!
Word.
Al-Qaeda—
Free Porn—
Britney Spears Nude—-
Ya’ll trying to get more hits wit dat, yo—
Is just plain RUDE!
Don’t need to do dat, doggs— to gets a click on your site—
You gots a superstar, Pete Trable— and I’m a little bit—
(shifts shoulders, brushes the left one with his right hand)
OF AAAAAAAAH-IGHT!”
[Pete flashes yet another undecipherable gang sign. Somewhere, the 2nd Street West Side near the Fire Hydrant Rollin’ King Deuce Crips puts out a hit on Trable for “stealing” their tag.]