FUVOLUTION: ...does 'Desperado'

[Toxxic 0]

“I’m telling you,” the man says in a distinctive South African accent, “there’s this big gangster from America, some wrestler or something, and he’s got a vendetta against diners!”

 

The barman he’s talking to looks dubious, but the man isn’t going to be dissuaded from his story. “Look, I’m telling you, I was there…”

 

[FADE IN]

 

“Damn!” Li’l Buck says, pushing his chair back from the table and patting his distended stomach, “dat shit was da cracka!”

 

“Glad you liked it,” the waiter smiles at Sugarhill’s Finest. “Could I interest you in dessert?”

 

“No way, nigga!” Buck exclaims. “I’m stuffed, bitch!” Then a flicker of doubt crosses his face. “Why, what you got?”

 

“Well, we are famed for our selection of pies,” the waiter replies, producing a dessert board for the King of Crunk.

 

“Damn,” Buck mutters, “I like pie!”

 

“We have apple,” the waiter suggests.

 

“…nah,” Buck dismisses the idea.

 

“Lemon meringue?”

 

“Too sweet, fool!”

 

“Banana cream?”

 

“Do I look like a clown to you?” Buck snaps, and the waiter steps backwards waving his hands apologetically.

 

“No, no, of course not! Well, for the real connoisseur, we do have something special…”

 

A trolley is wheeled out, on which sits a large and resplendent:

 

“Blick Cherry Pie!”

 

“Say what?” Buck asks, tilting his head.

 

“The Blick Cherry Pie,” the waiter repeats, surprised that Buck didn’t hear him the first time.

 

“A what Cherry?” Li’l Buck asks again, raising his voice slightly.

 

“A… Blick… Cherry?” the South African waiter says, now sure that something is wrong but still unclear as to what.

 

“No, no, NO!” Buck roars, leaping up. “You ain’t talkin’ that shit to me, fucker! Now name the pie properly!”

 

“Blick Cherry!” the waiter squeals in alarm. “Blick Cherry!”

 

“I don’ believe dis!” Buck yells, pulling out a Glock (or something equally ‘hood’, whatever sort of device designed to shoot people is considered fashionable these days) and pointing it at a nearby couple sitting terrified at their table. “Do I have to execute every motherfuckin’ last person in this place to hear my pie correctly pronounced!? Say it, you bitch!”

 

“…blick…” the waiter whispers.

 

“WRONG ANSWER!”

 

*BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!!*

 

An assortment of bodies slump to the ground, bleeding in many family-friendly ways. Buck grins the barrel of his weapon into the waiter’s forehead and leans down low.

 

“You got one more chance, MOTHERFUCKER!” Buck hisses. “Now, I will say dis one more time. NAME… MY… PIE!!”

 

The waiter closes his eyes, says his prayers and gives the only answer he can.

 

“….blick.”

 

*BANG!!*

 

[FADE OUT]

 

“Heh, weird,” the barman says. “But the barman was OK, right? The barman is always OK.”

 

At that moment Li’l Buck enters the diner, raises his Glock and fires.

 

*BANG!!*

 

 

 

This promo was brought to you by the inability of the South African accent to correctly pronounce the word ‘black’.

[Toshiaki Koala 0]

This promo was brought to you by the inability of the South African accent to correctly pronounce the word ‘black’.

<{POST_SNAPBACK}>

 

Gotta love Lethal Weapon 2.

[Angel_Grace_Blue 0]

“Damn!” Li’l Buck says, pushing his chair back from the table and patting his distended stomach, “dat shit was da cracka!”

 

The meal was a white person? Perhaps it was crackin'?

 

“Lemon meringue?”

 

“Too sweet, fool!”

 

Buck is Mr. T? Awesome.

 

 

 

“I don’ believe dis!” Buck yells, pulling out a Glock (or something equally ‘hood’, whatever sort of device designed to shoot people is considered fashionable these days)

That would be a musket from the American Revolution. It's all about throwbacks.

[Angel_Grace_Blue 0]

Also: Why was this not in the Fuvolution thread?

 

Silly British people who are hippopotamuses.

[Toshiaki Koala 0]

"Diplomatic pass."

 

*BANG!*