The Black Fossil
Chapter XXI – The Completely Pointless Musical Number
Jim Stalin and Jack Wack made it to the bottom of the mountain in record time, just as the music that had accidentally started at the end of the previous chapter started going. Jack thought it entirely appropriate that a derivative spoof of a derivative white character get to do a song that is a spoof of a derivative white rapper. Jim shrugged and began to move to the music of Eminem’s "My Name Is" as he tried to figure out how to rap in ten seconds or less.
"Hi!" Jim said, trying to imitate Eminem, "My name is…"
"What?" Jack said, playing along.
"My name is…" Jim continued.
"Who?" Jack sighed.
"My name is…" Jim finished after a scratch, "Jim Stalin!"
"Hi!" Jim said, continuing to imitate Eminem, "My name is…"
"Huh?" Jack said, trying not to sound bored.
"My name is…" Jim said again.
"What?" Jack sighed.
"My name is…" Jim finished doing another scratch, "Jim Stalin!"
"Hi!" Jim said, trying to imitate Eminem, "My name is…"
"What?" Jack said, playing along.
"My name is…" Jim continued.
"Who?" Jack sighed.
"My name is…" Jim finished after a scratch, "Jim Stalin!"
"Hi!" Jim said, continuing to imitate Eminem, "My name is…"
"Huh?" Jack said, trying not to sound bored.
"My name is…" Jim said again.
"What?" Jack sighed.
My name is…" Jim finished doing another scratch, "Jim Stalin!"
Jim did a stupid little dance and changed about six outfits in a span of 20 seconds. Really amazing the modern technology of writing. He finally came back and looked like a really demented school teacher.
"Um, excuse me?" Jim said, looking very nerdy as he did so, "Can I have the suspension of disbelief extended for one minute?"
"Get on with it you idiot," Jack grumbled.
"Hi readers!" Jim rapped, "Do you like cruelty?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jack added and then said under his breath, "I’m sure they do if they’ve read this far…"
"Want to see me stretch this plot like Joan Rivers’ eyelids?" Jim continued, pausing for the ‘uh huh!’, "Want to copy movies and get MPAA to go ballistic?"
"Uh, no," Jack said.
"How about try rapping and get messed up like this song is?" Jim rapped as everyone around looked at him strangely, "This plot’s dead weight. I’m trying to get the word count straight, but I can’t figure out how many mooks I want to decimate!"
And Jack Wack said: "Jim Stalin your plot’s dead!"
"Uh-uhhh!" Jim said.
"So why’s this rap said?" Jack asked him, "Man, you’re a space cadet!"
"Well, since page twelve I’ve felt like I’m somewhere else," Jim rapped, "Cause I left my original self in the dust of the book shelf. I got tipped off and ripped half my plot off and faked it so hard that my plot began to flip flop."
"Lame!" Jack yelled, to be perfectly ignored.
"I try to rap and this plot falls on its ass," Jim rapped, "Faster than a five year old in Michael Jackson’s flat."
"Nauseating," Jack mumbled.
"Come here, Reizvolle," Jim said.
"Stalin," Adam’s disembodied voice came from somewhere in the mountains, "Wait a minute, that’s my girl you fraud!"
"I don’t give a suck," Jim rapped, "The author sent me to piss you all off!"
"You’re doing that admirably," Jack said, "I guess it’s time to chorus again…"
"Hi!" Jim said, repeating it all over again, "My name is…"
"What?" Jack said, playing along.
"My name is…" Jim continued.
"Who?" Jack sighed.
"My name is…" Jim finished after a scratch, "Jim Stalin!"
"And again!" Jack yelled.
"Hi!" Jim said, continuing to imitate Eminem, "My name is…"
"Huh?" Jack said, trying not to sound bored.
"My name is…" Jim said again.
"What?" Jack sighed.
"My name is…" Jim finished doing another scratch, "Jim Stalin!"
"And here we go again!" Jack mumbled in exasperation.
"My author wanted me to have sex with her on the fly," Jim rhymed, "The only problem is that we’re in a story that leaves you stupefied. So I faked it and left her with a wink and a censored and then did her in a way that personified this plotless defecator."
"Eeeew!" Jack shuddered, "Way too literal…"
"Walked into the Louvre, thought we had this plot zipped up," Jim rapped, "Failed to make it work and then it collapsed, man we messed up!"
"You said it!" Jack agreed.
"Extra special sauce, killin’ plot line talks," Jim rhymed nonsensically, "Rappin’ to nonexistent songs while Jack is screaming…"
"Please just let it end!" Jack screamed on cue.
"Ninety-nine percent of this story you’ve been lied to," Jim rapped, "I just found out that Jack Wack makes more sense than I do. I told him I’d grow up to be an adventure hero, make a record about killing mooks and name it after him."
"Oh, am I supposed to thank you?" Jack wondered.
"You know we blew up the Gremlin, it’s lost with all hands," Jim rhymed, "And tried to keep it going with some lame running jokes you can’t stand."
"Arrgh!" Jack yelled.
"The mooks back on the curves are now smoking crack," Jim said.
"Dude," Jack said, playing along, "Can I get your ass smacked?"
"Sorry Jack, I got a wife to support you know," Jim grinned.
"So do that idiotic chorus again," Jack told him.
"Hi!" Jim said, repeating it all over again, "My name is…"
"What?" Jack said, fighting the urge to shoot him.
"My name is…" Jim whined.
"Who?" Jack spat.
"My name is…" Jim said after a scratch, "Jim Stalin!"
"And again!" Jack yelled.
"Hi!" Jim said, continuing to irritate Eminem, "My name is…"
"Huh?" Jack said, trying not to sound bored.
"My name is…" Jim said again.
"What?" Jack sighed.
"My name is…" Jim finished after another scratch, "Jim Stalin!"
"And here we go again!" Jack mumbled in desperation.
"Stop the page!" Jim yelled, "This plot needs to be locked away!"
"Get the eraser!" Jack exclaimed.
"Jack Wack," Jim said, "Don’t just stand there, excoriate!"
"Huh?" Jack wondered.
"I’m so ready to leave, it isn’t very scary to die," Jim said, "I’m the hero and yet this plot is dead and ready to be buried tonight. Is it coming or going it can’t really coincide. I think the author drank a fifth of vodka, do you dare him to write?"
"No more!" Jack exclaimed.
"All through this story I’ve been plot deprived," Jim rapped, "I ain’t had a point in 37000 words and this story is too dumb to hide, the plot is desperate like those stupid housewives…"
"Getting desperate," Jack said, "Better start wrapping it up…"
"We suck as we go long, We’ll screw up anything that plots," Jim rapped.
"Oh dear," Jack sighed.
"When I used to get money I used to go sit," Jim rhymed badly, "How are you going to plot me now, you ain’t got no ideas bitch!"
"Bah!" Jack spat.
"He lays awake and straps his keyboard to his back," Jim rapped, "Put in some bad plots and a gay Jewish black dude named Jack Wack!"
"Dang!" Jack said.
"I’m completely mad," Jim rhymed, "And by the way did you see how bad this song is? It’s much worse in the dream I had!"
"Finish it!" Jack growled.
"Hi!" Jim said, repeating it all for the last time, "My name is…"
"What?" Jack said, glad it was almost all over.
"My name is…" Jim said.
"Who?" Jack cracked.
"M
y name is…" Jim said after a scratch, "Jim Stalin!"
"And again!" Jack yelled.
"Hi!" Jim said, continuing to irritate Eminem, "My name is…"
"Huh?" Jack said, trying to sound bored.
"My name is…" Jim said again.
"What?" Jack sighed.
"My name is…" Jim finished after another scratch, "Jim Stalin!"
The music slammed to a stop and Jim Stalin left the area before the angry crowd could catch up with him. The two of them jumped into the strategically placed Gremlin and drove away from the area towards the place that the so-called plot would be catching up with them next.