Walk The Walk
['Da Mystery Of Chessboxin' by Wu-Tang Clan is playing in the background. An outlined Django Reinhardt CD is on a shelf on the wall as Joe eats Boo Berry cereal with a spoon. The walls spin around his eyes and a headache takes to his skull. The helicopter wallpaper bounces music as Joe opens the curtains to reveal icicles and snow flakes on the ground. Joe dances on the brown, leaf pattern carpet.]
Joe: Let’s get down to brass tacks, no screwing around.
[An overweight black man in green eating spaghetti and meatballs swings his arms to the music.]
Joe: There’s no spray painting people’s TV sets randomly anymore. No sneezing in soup. If we’re to be the kings we gotta spread out even steven and bring it down.
Tyrrell: How are we gonna steal these stereos if there’s barbed wire on fences?
[Joe smiles a knowing smile you only learn in prison. He pulls a pair of wire cutters out of a duffel bag.]
Joe: A nail bomb couldn’t stop us, stick to buildings on the outskirts and have eyes in the back of your head. With these camouflage threads we’ll fly in and out of there and leave some destruction behind. Any of you balaclava niggas fall apart and curl into a ball like a porcupine on me can expect their burning soul, melting heart pussy self to get a shock from the rest of us. Electric fences will be the least of your worries if you fuck this operation up, a lot of money is at stake baby.
[The gaggle heads out into wonderland ready to perform a surgical robbery as their heads bounce to music like basketballs.]
*Dr. Thrilla is shown reading a printout of the above promo. He reads it again, and then raises an eyebrow before handing it to Mr. Paradox. He reads it twice, and then hands it to Cecil. Cecil reads it twice, and then shakes his head.*
Cecil: Meaningless. Let us do… that thing.
*Dr. Thrilla takes the other half of the printout, and they kneel on the ground as Mr. Paradox draws his sword.*
Mr. Paradox: Incoherent!
*He cuts the printout in half.*
[Joe Bananas is smoking a joint whilst watching Clint Eastwood's 'Unforgiven.']
Joe: Leave me alone Mr. Paradox, you just didn’t get it.
[He takes another puff on the joint and takes a big swig from a bottle of Captain Morgan's.]
Rose: It’s douja’s less-talented cousin…
Axl: Less-talented than douja… That’s sayin’ something!
Rose: Indeed.
- the -
[Joe is eating a chicken sandwich as he reads over the insulting replies.]
Joe: I wasn’t expecting that to happen, my next RP will have to be about an electric nail gun or hitting people with tennis rackets. The intricacies of armed robbery in bobble hats with a little wine and spaghetti afterwards is lost on you guys. Y’all just think I’m some drug addict that stares at those fiber optic lamp things all day. I’m the king and no matter how much you try to cheaply beat me into the ground, I’m still standing.
[Joe takes a toke on a joint and just sort of wanders off.]
*Dr. Thrilla wanders on the edge of the Badlands, Cecil walking beside him.*
Dr. Thrilla: *metal clanging*
Cecil: The doctor says you are making him long for the days of XXXtreme Machine.
Joe: Well at least I’m better looking than you, with your false teeth, glass eye, wig, rubber gloves and a face that looks like a pineapple stuck in a blender. And at least XXXtreme Machine is funnier than you.
Dr. Thrilla: *metal clanging*
Cecil: The doctor asks that you be more sensitive to the subject of his beartrap.
Dr. Thrilla: *confused metal clanging*
Cecil: What do you mean, his glass eye? Both are real.
Dr. Thrilla: *pokes at them, moving them in the sockets*
Dr. Thrilla: *angry metal clanging*
Cecil: A direct translation: “I may be bald, but I don’t wear wigs, dumbass.”
Dr. Thrilla: *snide metal clanging*
Cecil: As the name imples, he’s a doctor. They tend to wear rubber gloves as a matter of course.
Dr. Thrilla: *academic metal clanging*
Cecil: He prefers “badly-sculpted reconstructive putty”.
Dr. Thrilla: *sarcastic metal clanging*
Cecil: Yes, because poorly-spell profanity is hilarious.
Dr. Thrilla: *threatening metal clanging*
Cecil: Joe Bananas, you have done nothing since your arrival but pick fights with the established BOB stars. You are earning your way towards a brutal and fully-deserved beating, and he will be more than happy to administer it.
Axl: I dunno doc… the guy’s got hutspah. He reminds me of me a year ago. … Hell, he reminds me of me now.
Rose: Except for the gay thing.
Axl: You mean Joe Banana’s gay?
Rose: … Yeah, sure, that’s what I meant…
Axl: …
- the -