with DeadSun

You've seen him in Fan Speak all around the antiMUSIC network, now DeadSun gets his big show as the host of his very own talk show,  The Not Quite-So DeadShow ! Forget Oprah and Dr. Phil, DeadSun knows how to liven up a talk show. 

disclaimer for lawyers and dumbasses: Please read the disclaimer before proceeding with this article. the disclaimer is included here-in by reference.

If you are under the age of 17, this article is not meant for you so please bugger off. For those too lazy to click what follows is parody and celebrity assholes are impersonated

( hit stage lights, cue AC/DC's "Hells Bells" ) 

Host DeadSun : Man, oh man. What a bad ass tune. When that baby comes ripping out of a pair of speakers, rest assured that heads will bang, devil horns will flash, alcohol will be consumed, and furniture will be broken.

It's a law of god damn NATURE.

( screaming along ) 

"YEAH! YOU GOT ME RINGIN'... HELL'S BELLS!"

Here we are, ladies and gents. The feeling's in the air--- this IS the February installment of the Not Quite-So DeadShow. As always, I am your humble host--- the DeadSun--- and for THIS episode, we're going to present a little piece called "Gangsta Eye For The Middle Class White Guy". As I'm sure many of you are aware of by now, we at the DeadShow will go to great lengths to entertain and offend our viewing audience--- and so I ask myself : "self, what is more entertaining than white suburbanites, who by way of speech and fashion, actually attempt to convince the world that DEY BE STRAIGHT-UP DAWGZ, YO?" Let me say this : you're going to be hard pressed to come up with something more laughable, and that is why they deserve to be mocked to the highest degree.

Additionally, it will be done because the people who enjoy the DeadShow are irreverent pricks, who also like to laugh at these "marvels of genetic engineering", and their insipid lingo and hand gestures.

--- but for now, we're going to pause for a station break. When we return from the commercial, we will present to you : "Gangsta Eye For The Middle Class White Guy". Bon appetit.

( Cut to TV commercial. A young boy is sitting at a kitchen table, ready to have his morning breakfast. His mother enters the kitchen. ) 

Mother : "Good morning, Tommy."

Tommy : "Hi, mom."

Mother ( holding up a box of cereal ) : "Does my little precious want some Raisin Puffs cereal to eat this morning?"

Tommy ( grabs at the crotch of his pants ) : "Raisin Puffs? You trippin' or somethin'? RAISIN PUFFS DEEZ NUTZ, b*tch! 'Cuz it's all about the Gangsta Charms cereal... HO!"

Mother : "Oh dear Jesus! WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?"

( In struts a man wearing baggy clothes, a blue bandana on his head, and a Tech 9 handgun fit snugly into the front waistline of his pants ) 

Tommy : "Yo moms--- peep dat! It's Playa 5000!"

Playa 5000 : "Dat's right, cracker lady--- ALL DEM kids be after my Gangsta Charms cereal, n' sh*t."

Mother : "WHO ARE YOU? Get out of my house!"

Playa 5000 : "Ain't you HEARIN' me, ho? I'm talkin' Gangsta Charms cereal : da cereal wit' all dat muthaf*ckin' marshmallow goodness--- pink Hos, orange guns, yellow gold chains, green money clips, an' blue bling bling."

Tommy ( making hand poses ) : "Ya feelin' dat, MOMS? Ya feelin' dat?"

Playa 5000 : "For real, yo. Dem kids eat that Gangsta Charms, and dey be all like... BLAM BLAM... sprayin' suckers DOWN, N' SH*T."

Mother : "Well, my son's nutrition is what's important to me. Is it fortified with all the essential vitamins and minerals, making it part of a complete breakfast?"

Playa 5000 : "Nah--- dat vitamin sh*t is jus' fo' PUNK AZZ B*TCHES. Buy yo' kid some Gangsta Charms--- plus, every box come wit' a BIG ass sack o' Indo."

Mother : "My! Gangsta Charms sound like the sh*t, yo."

( Tommy and Playa 5000 laugh heartily ) 

Tommy : "Yo Playa--- moms be a Gangsta b*tch NOW--- mad thanx, dawg."

Playa 5000 : "Word 'em up, son."

( End commercial spot ) 

( Return to DeadShow. Cue sound clip of applause. ) 

DS : "How about that? Gangsta Charms cereal, folks! Well, moving along, I'd like to bring on our guest. He works as a marketing analyst in Boston, and in his spare time he likes to birdwatch, and collects very colorful neckties. Ladies and gentlemen... will you please give a warm DeadShow welcome... to Mr. Walter Kensington!"

( Again with the bad applause sound clip ) 

DS : "Glad you could make it on, Walter... why don't you have a seat, so we can get started?"

Walter : "Quite. Thank you very much indeed."

DS : "Now, Walter : will you tell the viewing audience why you are here?"

Walter : "Well as you know, Mr. Sun, I work as a marketing analyst. The job is financially rewarding, the benefits are fantastic... but it just isn't me."

DS : "It just isn't you?"

Walter : "Yes, that's right. ( pauses ) You have to understand... the work is painfully boring. It's always the same quarterly earnings statements, the same balance sheets and index reports, the same conversation by the water cooler. I could go on and on, but you get the idea."

DS : "Go on."

Walter : "The fact is, Mr. Sun... I want OUT of this lifestyle."

DS : "Sorry Walter, but if you leave market analysis, what else would you do?"

Walter : "Well--- I'm led to understand that being a muthaf*ckin' hardcore Gangsta is rather fulfilling."

DS ( looking around ) : "Did you just say what I THINK you just said?"

Walter : "Oh yes. You know--- that Gangsta sh*t."

DS ( disturbed ) : "Let me be sure that I understand you : you've decided to make a career change from MARKET ANALYSIS... to being a Gangsta?"

Walter : "Oh, but it's VERY exciting stuff, Mr. Sun. I've looked into it, you know : hooptys, chooch, gats, blunts, slangin' 'cain. I'm still unsure what any of these things are, but they sound MARVELOUS."

DS : "You seem to have overlooked a few key---"

Walter ( interrupting ) : "What exactly IS slangin' 'cain, anyway? ( thinks for a moment ) Is that like smacking a ho?"

DS : "Walter, we might be getting a LITTLE too ahead of ourselves. If you would just stop, and listen to me for a moment---"

Walter ( interrupting ) : "I will point out, though, that I have a fair idea about what bling bling is. I haven't gotten any just yet, but I do have this VERY shiny tie tack. See how it catches the stage lights? ISN'T IT THE BOMB?"

DS : "Walter--- I want you to listen to me carefully--- a Gangsta wouldn't refer to a TIE TACK as... the bomb."

Walter : "Yo why you frontin' on me?"

DS ( under his breath ) : "Dear God. I want to die."

( In struts a man wearing baggy clothes, a blue bandana on his head, and a Tech 9 handgun fit snugly into the front waistline of his pants ) 

"BAYAM! Wassup, muthaf*ckaz?"

DS : "Uh... and you ARE?"

"I'm Playa 5000, yo--- an' I be up in dis muthaf*cka cuz I'm BRINGIN' IT RAW, baby!"

DS : "Aren't you that quack from the Gangsta Charms commercial?"

Playa 5000 : "Yeah I did that, 'G. Beside from dem TV shoots, I be a Business Law student down at the university, yo."

DS ( annoyed ) : "I think the point is this : what are you doing here... WAIT... do you mean to tell me that you're a college student, studying Business Law, and you call yourself a god damned PLAYA 5000?!"

Playa 5000 : "You betta BACK da f*ck up--- cuz you standin' on mah D*CK, punk."

Walter : "Can I ask Playa 5000 some questions?"
 
DS : "Questions like WHAT?"

Walter : "Well, for instance : do straight up pimps alternate between sippin' on the Yak, and downin' forties, or is it a matter of preferring one apart from the other?"

DS ( rubbing his temples ) : "I don't believe I'm hearing this..."

Playa 5000 : "Yo dats why I'm here, dawg. I'm gonna learn you the ropes, Walter. I gots everything you gonna need in this bag right here."

Walter : "Really? What's in there?"

( Playa 5000 starts rummaging through the bag ) 

Playa 5000 : "Aw-ight, 'G... first thang you gonna need to do, is to put this Du Rag on yo' head, then throw these baggies on."

Walter ( anxiously ) : "Do I start droppin' many suckaz now?" 

Playa 5000 : "Jus' HOLD UP. Take this blunt, an' tuck it up so dat half of it sticks out from under the Du Rag. Now : take this 40 oz. bottle of malt liqua'... you know what you do FIRST, right?"

Walter : "I sure do."

( starts pouring the malt liquor onto the studio floor ) 

DS : "What in HELL do you think you're doing?!"

Walter : "Yo--- that was for my homies back at the Health Spa."

DS ( enraged ) : "HEALTH SPA?! Are you morons f*cking high?"

( studio phone starts ringing ) 

DS : "Jesus--- what now?"
 
( answers phone ) 

DS : "DeadShow."

"Oh, hi... am I on the air? Can I speak with Walter?"

DS : "Who are you?"
 
"I'm his wife."
 
Walter ( to wife ) : "Yo ho--- you wanna buy some crack?"

Wife : "Walter? Is that you? What are you doing? You told me you were interviewing for jobs today... the Jones' are expecting us for dinner in two hours... and what's all this 'ho' nonsense? Is this some sort of gardening reference?"
 
Walter : "Well ain't dat jus' like THE MAN... always gotta be holding a Gangsta back n' sh*t. I'm HARDCORE now, yo."

Playa 5000 : "Right on, dirty."

DS : "That does it. Look--- you're a lame MARKET ANALYST, and you're a lame STUDENT OF BUSINESS LAW... you two idiots are not 'hardcore'... in fact, when I think of what you both are, an animal with long, floppy ears is what comes to mind. Imbeciles."

Wife : "I want to talk to my husband!"

DS : "No... no one is talking to ANYONE ELSE... this has clearly gotten out of hand, so I'm stopping the show. You all can go and inhale the wafting putrescence from Courtney Love's nethers for all I care..."

Host DeadSun : Well that's about all the time we have this month, ladies and gents. I'm going to move ahead now, and close out the show with another oldie-but-goody : it's a cut by Iggy Pop and the Stooges--- and it's called "I Wanna Be Your Dog".

This is the DeadSun--- signing off.

( cue the Stooges' "I Wanna Be Your Dog" and roll credits )
 
 
 

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