Sketch: So You Think You Can Rap?
INT. MASSIVE, POSH THEATER -- NIGHT
Dozens of television cameras come to life. An enormous audience sits in the darkened theater as two men stand on the stage. The Host is very handsome and probably never worked a day in his life. The man beside him stands nervously, his fingers fumbling with the heavy golden chains hanging around his neck. He wears a crooked ball cap and very low, saggy jeans. His boxer shorts are showing, shiny and gold with eight balls inlaid all around. He wore them in honor of the judges he now faces.
At the foot of the stage is a large, illuminated desk. Four men sit behind it, the famed members of Chalkskin. They blow kisses and wave to the crowd as they roar in excited anticipation.
The moment has finally come.
HOST
Welcome back to “So You Think You Can Rap?,” the show that
makes or breaks America’s next top rapper. If you’re just tuning
in, we’re down to our finalist, and one million dollars in cold, hard
cash is on the line. Ice Dawg just set the mic on fire, and we’re
waiting on the judges. Ice Dawg, how are you feeling?
ICE DAWG
Well, I’ve got to be serious. I’m a bit nervous. I gotta thank God
I’m even on this stage, being Scottish and all. Me winning could
help me get me mum out of the Highlands!
The audience laughs. Ice Dawg isn’t entirely sure why.
HOST
Aw. Aw, that’s great! Looks like the judges are ready. Rich
Prophet, what did you think?
RICH PROPHET
Ice Dawg. Wooh! Brother. Yeah, it’s Rich Prophet. Thank
you. Thank you.
Tepid applause.
RICH PROPHET
If my buttcheeks had tear ducts, they would be cryin’ right
now, man You really. . . You touched my soul with that, dogg.
ICE DAWG
Ah! That’s very kind of you.
J-MAN
That was beautiful. I concur. I concur.
RICH PROPHET
You - you really - you really knocked it out of the park with this
one. I didn’t see it comin’. Rich Prophet says. . . Ice Dawg,
you can rap.
The audience cheers loudly for their favorite rapping Scott.
HOST
Alright, that’s one vote for you, Ice Dawg! D.J. Pop’N’Fresh?
D.J. POP’N’FRESH
You wrote those lyrics?
ICE DAWG
Yeah, I did. Every word.
D.J. POP’N’FRESH
Very impressive. Your syncopated use of alliteration was
invigorating, and the metaphors you treated us to were almost
Busta’ Rhymes-esque.
ICE DAWG
Thank you. Thank you so much!
D.J. POP’N’FRESH
You can rap!
Again, the audience is in rapture.
HOST
That’s two! J-Man?
J-MAN
I hear it. Like - What - Brother, wha - what are you made of?
Like, seriously - like I - what are you made - like - Forty ounce
bottles. And then I see, like, this weird Sesame Street thing
goin’.
ICE DAWG
Yes?
J-MAN
Kinda this Tickle me J-Man thing goin’. Uh! Feelin’ it!
ICE DAWG
Um. . . What?
HOST
What are you saying, J-Man?
J-MAN
What is that rumblin’ off the leaves of my ears?
HOST
What did you just say, J-Man?
The crowd grows restless.
J-MAN
Oh oh, I heard it through the J-Vine, and I’m ‘bout to lose
my mind. Chalky chalky, yeah!
RICH PROPHET
Uh. Wait, wait, what!?
HOST
J-Man, what are you talking about?
J-MAN
Brother looks like a baby. Brother sounds like a baby.
ICE DAWG
I don’t understand!
J-MAN
You know, this reminds me of the time Pop’N’Fresh and I
were lost in that zoo. And we were runnin’ around, and that
tiger came up to us and was all. . .
(Unintelligible garble funk.)
ICE DAWG
I don’t understand a blimey thing he’s sayin’!
J-MAN
. . .and Pop was all, “I’ll take care of it.”
HOST
J-Man, use your words.
J-MAN
Ice Dawg. . . You, sir. . . Can rap!
The audience lets out a collective sigh. Oh! That’s what he was saying! Of course! What a mystery J-Man is. A sexy, sexy enigma. He’s so deep. Kind of like John Lennon.
HOST
That’s three, but this is the final round, and you need all
four votes. M.C. Chalkskin, it’s all down to you.
M.C. CHALKSKIN
Yo, hip hop is dead, man. Long live the king.
HOST
Does that mean that, yes, in fact Ice Dawg can rap and has
won one million dollars?
M.C. CHALKSKIN
Hell no!
The crowd cries out in shock! If M.C. Chalkskin doesn’t think Ice Dawg can rap, then they must have been wrong about him. How many other things have they been wrong about in the past? Did they pick the right mate? Profession? Breed of terrier? Child to spare? If only Chlakskin were always around to set them straight. To show them right and wrong. Their world is in shambles.
M.C. CHALKSKIN
He can’t rap, man. Not like Chalkskin can. Get off my stage,
man, and give me that mic!
ICE DAWG
What are you talkin’ about?
M.C. CHALKSKIN
Come to me with that and expect to get paid.
D.J. POP’N’FRESH
I thought he was pretty good.
RICH PROPHET
Yeah, don’t listen to Chalkskin.
J-MAN
You’re trippin’. He was all “doot-doot-doot-doot-doo
sweet!!”
Wait! If Chalkskin and the rest of the members of Chalkskin don’t always agree, then that makes them fallible. How could they be so foolish and follow these straw god?! Boo!!
M.C. CHALKSKIN
Naw. None’a ya’ll know a thing about rap! Yo, give
Chalkskin the money! I declare myself America’s next top
rapper!
ICE DAWG
Not even a chance!
HOST
(Laughing.)
Okay.
M.C. CHALKSKIN
Give me the money!
ICE DAWG
That’s stupid!
M.C. CHALKSKIN
J-Man all “doot-doot-doot sweet!” Rich Prophet always talkin’
‘bout something.
ICE DAWG
You may take me PayDay. . . but you’ll never take. . . me
microphone!! Gu bràth!! Wiggity wiggity wiggity wack.
Written by: Sheepdog David Grant
Recorded by: Hunter Bressan for West-One Productions
Edited by: Sheepdog David Grant
Music by: Sheepdog David Grant
Host: Jesse Dillon Sorrells
Ice Dawg: Mark McKinney
Themselves: Rich Prophet, DJ Pop’N’Fresh, J-Man, MC Chalkskin
Dozens of television cameras come to life. An enormous audience sits in the darkened theater as two men stand on the stage. The Host is very handsome and probably never worked a day in his life. The man beside him stands nervously, his fingers fumbling with the heavy golden chains hanging around his neck. He wears a crooked ball cap and very low, saggy jeans. His boxer shorts are showing, shiny and gold with eight balls inlaid all around. He wore them in honor of the judges he now faces.
At the foot of the stage is a large, illuminated desk. Four men sit behind it, the famed members of Chalkskin. They blow kisses and wave to the crowd as they roar in excited anticipation.
The moment has finally come.
HOST
Welcome back to “So You Think You Can Rap?,” the show that
makes or breaks America’s next top rapper. If you’re just tuning
in, we’re down to our finalist, and one million dollars in cold, hard
cash is on the line. Ice Dawg just set the mic on fire, and we’re
waiting on the judges. Ice Dawg, how are you feeling?
ICE DAWG
Well, I’ve got to be serious. I’m a bit nervous. I gotta thank God
I’m even on this stage, being Scottish and all. Me winning could
help me get me mum out of the Highlands!
The audience laughs. Ice Dawg isn’t entirely sure why.
HOST
Aw. Aw, that’s great! Looks like the judges are ready. Rich
Prophet, what did you think?
RICH PROPHET
Ice Dawg. Wooh! Brother. Yeah, it’s Rich Prophet. Thank
you. Thank you.
Tepid applause.
RICH PROPHET
If my buttcheeks had tear ducts, they would be cryin’ right
now, man You really. . . You touched my soul with that, dogg.
ICE DAWG
Ah! That’s very kind of you.
J-MAN
That was beautiful. I concur. I concur.
RICH PROPHET
You - you really - you really knocked it out of the park with this
one. I didn’t see it comin’. Rich Prophet says. . . Ice Dawg,
you can rap.
The audience cheers loudly for their favorite rapping Scott.
HOST
Alright, that’s one vote for you, Ice Dawg! D.J. Pop’N’Fresh?
D.J. POP’N’FRESH
You wrote those lyrics?
ICE DAWG
Yeah, I did. Every word.
D.J. POP’N’FRESH
Very impressive. Your syncopated use of alliteration was
invigorating, and the metaphors you treated us to were almost
Busta’ Rhymes-esque.
ICE DAWG
Thank you. Thank you so much!
D.J. POP’N’FRESH
You can rap!
Again, the audience is in rapture.
HOST
That’s two! J-Man?
J-MAN
I hear it. Like - What - Brother, wha - what are you made of?
Like, seriously - like I - what are you made - like - Forty ounce
bottles. And then I see, like, this weird Sesame Street thing
goin’.
ICE DAWG
Yes?
J-MAN
Kinda this Tickle me J-Man thing goin’. Uh! Feelin’ it!
ICE DAWG
Um. . . What?
HOST
What are you saying, J-Man?
J-MAN
What is that rumblin’ off the leaves of my ears?
HOST
What did you just say, J-Man?
The crowd grows restless.
J-MAN
Oh oh, I heard it through the J-Vine, and I’m ‘bout to lose
my mind. Chalky chalky, yeah!
RICH PROPHET
Uh. Wait, wait, what!?
HOST
J-Man, what are you talking about?
J-MAN
Brother looks like a baby. Brother sounds like a baby.
ICE DAWG
I don’t understand!
J-MAN
You know, this reminds me of the time Pop’N’Fresh and I
were lost in that zoo. And we were runnin’ around, and that
tiger came up to us and was all. . .
(Unintelligible garble funk.)
ICE DAWG
I don’t understand a blimey thing he’s sayin’!
J-MAN
. . .and Pop was all, “I’ll take care of it.”
HOST
J-Man, use your words.
J-MAN
Ice Dawg. . . You, sir. . . Can rap!
The audience lets out a collective sigh. Oh! That’s what he was saying! Of course! What a mystery J-Man is. A sexy, sexy enigma. He’s so deep. Kind of like John Lennon.
HOST
That’s three, but this is the final round, and you need all
four votes. M.C. Chalkskin, it’s all down to you.
M.C. CHALKSKIN
Yo, hip hop is dead, man. Long live the king.
HOST
Does that mean that, yes, in fact Ice Dawg can rap and has
won one million dollars?
M.C. CHALKSKIN
Hell no!
The crowd cries out in shock! If M.C. Chalkskin doesn’t think Ice Dawg can rap, then they must have been wrong about him. How many other things have they been wrong about in the past? Did they pick the right mate? Profession? Breed of terrier? Child to spare? If only Chlakskin were always around to set them straight. To show them right and wrong. Their world is in shambles.
M.C. CHALKSKIN
He can’t rap, man. Not like Chalkskin can. Get off my stage,
man, and give me that mic!
ICE DAWG
What are you talkin’ about?
M.C. CHALKSKIN
Come to me with that and expect to get paid.
D.J. POP’N’FRESH
I thought he was pretty good.
RICH PROPHET
Yeah, don’t listen to Chalkskin.
J-MAN
You’re trippin’. He was all “doot-doot-doot-doot-doo
sweet!!”
Wait! If Chalkskin and the rest of the members of Chalkskin don’t always agree, then that makes them fallible. How could they be so foolish and follow these straw god?! Boo!!
M.C. CHALKSKIN
Naw. None’a ya’ll know a thing about rap! Yo, give
Chalkskin the money! I declare myself America’s next top
rapper!
ICE DAWG
Not even a chance!
HOST
(Laughing.)
Okay.
M.C. CHALKSKIN
Give me the money!
ICE DAWG
That’s stupid!
M.C. CHALKSKIN
J-Man all “doot-doot-doot sweet!” Rich Prophet always talkin’
‘bout something.
ICE DAWG
You may take me PayDay. . . but you’ll never take. . . me
microphone!! Gu bràth!! Wiggity wiggity wiggity wack.
Written by: Sheepdog David Grant
Recorded by: Hunter Bressan for West-One Productions
Edited by: Sheepdog David Grant
Music by: Sheepdog David Grant
Host: Jesse Dillon Sorrells
Ice Dawg: Mark McKinney
Themselves: Rich Prophet, DJ Pop’N’Fresh, J-Man, MC Chalkskin
Copyright 2012 for all content from "PayDay."
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