Friday, March 02, 2007
Hip Hop Heroes
(A total eclipse slowly casts its shadow across the entire globe)
(The first thing you see are bodega's, people carrying on with their daily activities, rush hour traffic, etc. Even to the untrained eye it's obvious that its New York, or maybe it's just obvious to me since I've fucked more New Yorkers than the Rockefeller laws.)
(The Caption reads: "Somewhere on the planet of Brooklyn")
(The scene starts with a young man rummaging through an office desk)
Mrs. Martin: Christopher, what in god's name are you doing boy?
Christopher Martin:(emerging from the desk) I have to find out what dad was working on before he died.(continuing to rummage) Whatever it was it was important enough to have him killed.
Mrs. Martin: That's exactly why I don't want you getting involved. I already lost a husband, I don't want to lose you too!!
Christoper Martin: Don't worry about me mom, I can take care of myself. Besides, I once produced a "Group Home" album AND a Christina Aguilera record, I'm prepared for anything that comes my way.
Mrs. Martin:(looking nervous, still scared for her son) What if I told you that that wasn't your real father?
Christoper Martin: What?
Mrs. Martin: That's right!! I'm sorry that I never told you this son, but Harvey the milkman is you father. There, I said it!!
Christoper Martin: This is sad, even for you mother.
Mrs. Martin: Think about it for a minute, who taught you how to play catch, who always stopped by when your bike needed to be fixed?
Christoper Martin: Come to think about it, he did give me that sex speech, showed up to all of my school plays, and he always carried a picture of me in his wallet.(standing up, looking his mother dead in her eyes) Mom, is Harvey my father)
Mrs. Martin:(taking a long, exhausted exhale) No son, he wasn't, at the end of the day he was a pedophile who was just "priming your pump" so to speak.
Christopher Martin:(shaking his head) That's pretty shitty mom!
Mrs. Martin: No, it would have been literally "shitty" if I had let him do what he wanted to do to you. Thanks to me, you aren't able to store luggage in your asshole or play the National Anthem out of your asscrack.
Christopher Martin: Enough! (back to rummaging again) I have to find out the shit that he was working on..
Mrs. Martin: Maybe you want to try that book right there.(pointing)
Christopher Martin:(looking rather bewildered) What book?
Mrs. Martin: Hmm, I don't you, the one that says "Shit I'm working on" on the cover. Jesus Christ man!
Christopher Martin: Oh.(reading through the materials for a great while) It says here that he was looking for "special people", does this have anything to do with his weird affection for mentally challenged porn?
Mrs. Martin: No.
Christopher Martin: Good, because nothing is sexy about a crossed eyed chick getting fucked and screaming, "I love pancakes!! I love pancakes!!" (still reading for a few minutes)
Mrs Martin: Let me just tell you what he was working on, because if I have to sit hear and watch you sound out words as if English was a second language, I think I'd put a shotgun barrel inside my mouth. Listen, your father was working on finding people with exceptional abilities concerning Hip Hop.
Christopher Martin: Really?
Mrs. Martin: Yes "really"! He's been tracking them for a while, there's a graf writer who can paint the future, a female MC with a super strong alter ego that comes out whenever she's asked to sell sex instead of lyricism, a Hip Hop Icon so disillusioned with the art form that he can transport himself to earlier times, there are more examples in that book you're holding. If you read his best-selling book, "Activating the Elements", you'd know all of this by now.
Christoper Martin: (looking down) I know, I was too busy doing beats for Whitney Houston.(looking up at his mother) I know what I must do, finish the job that father started, find all these gifted people so I can help save Hip Hop.
Mrs. Martin: That's what I'm talking about, it's about time you said something wise, I was about to regret that I never let the milkman cum in me.
Mrs. Martin: Nothing...
(Next Scene: The first thing you see is pick-up trucks, George Bush bumper stickers, tumble weeds, and not another black person in sight. I don't claim to be an expert, but this seems to be Texas..)
(The Caption reads: "Odessa Texas, where this family sticks out like a crow in a blizzard")
(We see a suburban couple in a heated argument)
Clive Campbell: Susan please, why do we have to go through the same routine every morning?
Susan Campbell: We wouldn't be going through with anything if you just came clean and admitted what you actually do for a living!! I feel like I'm married to Tommy on that "Martin" show, goddammit!!
Clive: If I've told you once I've told you a million times, I give financial advice, you've been to my shop before!
Susan: You are always away "on business", and when you are in town and I visit you at your job you never have any customers, but somehow we live in this nice house(looking around). By the way, who in the fuck takes financial advice from a black man anyways, in Texas of all places, when the credit of black men is usually as bad as a Young Jeezy album?
Clive: That's a stereotype, and you know it!! I'm very good at what I do, thank you.
Susan: Fuck balancing a checkbook, you have a hard time balancing long division, what is it that you do there really? It looks like a front for drug dealers, are you dealing Clive?
Clive: Don't be ridiculous Susan!
Susan: A prostitution ring? Are you a mobster? Are you a serial killer who chops off the bottoms of your female victims, and you take it there so you can have sex with the bottom half without interruption?
Clive: You're being ridiculous!
Susan: OK, I've got it!! For the past 16 years you have traveled the world, investigating superhuman Hip Hop phenomena, showing those gifted individuals how to use their special gifts, destroying the ones who use their powers for evil.
(Clive slowly creeps behind his wife, who is sitting on the couch, while tightly grasping a piece of wire to strangle her with)
Susan: Who knows what you do, you are so secretive it's not that hard to pull crazy scenarios like that out of my ass.
Clive:(quickly stuffing the wire back into his pocket) That's some imagination you have there honey!
(Meanwhile, Hope, Clive's daughter and High school cheerleader, is upstairs talking to her friend Zack on the telephone)
Hope:(talking on the phone while laying between a shitload of Teddy-Bears) Zack, now that you saw it with your own eyes on that videotape you recorded, you can't front on my regenerative powers.
Zack: At first I thought you were a glass licking retard, or that my habit of sniffing glue out of a paper bag was getting the best of me, but when I saw you come back from Horror Core, kids wearing their pants backwards, and the Flintstones rapping, I'm now a true believer.
Hope: You can't forget about Crunk, platinum teeth, Hyphy, or the plethora of southern rappers who would come across better if they flatulated in the studio. I can come back from anything, what do you think this means?
Zack: Who knows, but it explains why you were the only girl who didn't have a temporary limp after I tapped those small intestines during sex.
Hope: Zack, honey, I don't need regenerative powers to know that those other girls were lying, and that you have a toddler sized penis.
Until the Next episode...