All was superb after Hoff and I signed with Young Money Cash Money Records. We were definitely living the dream. We did semi-hard drugs and partied hard by night. We spent our days lackadaisically lounging around the Young Money House, which is located Los Angeles. Being bachelors who are in our prime, the Hoff and I obviously frequently spent the majority of our nights with some fine, young Cali honeys. One night, we threw one of our notorious Young Money parties with Drake and Lil' Wayne. During this party, we all did peyote, a Native American drug that derives from cactuses. Needless to say, it is extremely difficult to find peyote in the Los Angeles suburbs; however, the Hoff has a guy who can find him whatever he desires.
Anyways, back to the party. After the peyote and other various crazy party drugs kicked in, the entire party was popping. Like, I mean, fit was hitting the shan, if you know what I mean. So, once the party was winding down, Drake, Wayne, and I were all beginning to crash. Hoff on the other hand, kept doing lines of cocaine off of strippers' butt cracks and dirty toilet seats. So since Drake, Wayne, and I were all tired, we decided to call it a night and went to bed early. In separate beds obviously. Again, homie don't play that stuff. So, David was unsupervised and partied for at least three more hours, or until 9 am. He performed his nightly ritual, which consisted of hitting a pipe and then taking whomever he was dancing with to bed to do the deed.
I awoke in the morning, not to sirens this time, but to the screams coming from the room next from mine. I quickly slid some draws on so that I wouldn't be butt naked, and I barged into the adjacent room. Hoff was in the fetal position sitting in the corner of his room screeching like a rabid llama. I quickly sprinted over and consoled my friend and music partner. I was trying so hard to see what was wrong. He simply pointed to two articles of apparel that were lying on his bed. I looked over the items. One item was an extra-large pair of underwear and a pair of stunner sunglasses.
"Bruh, chill!" I implored. "Why are you making such a big deal over a pair of your undies and an ugly set of stunner shades?"
"Because… because… they aren't mine. Mine are hot pink!" Hoff cried angrily. "Whomever I had a "private party" with last night left these behind. Those underwear are too big for a woman to wear. And those stunner shades… you don't think… wasn't Kanye West at our party last night?" Hoff was seriously worried that he did something dirty with Kanye the night before.
"Well yea, he was… but there is no way you two had butt intercourse… yea, there is absolutely zero chance." I reasoned with David.
"I need to be sure. I was really, really messed up last night, bro. We need to investigate like Inspector Gadgets! Please help me out with this, Logo! I need to know I didn't do Kanye in his rear fo' sho'!" pleaded Hoff.
"Alright, man. You have helped me out ever since I met you, and we hit the clubs in NY. I got you, homie," I reassuringly answered. "I think I even know a couple guys who can help. Have you ever heard of the Hollywood Hardy Boys? They are a pair of BIG DEAL celebrities who are the best at solving mysteries like this!"
So, like any good friend would, I made calls out to the Hollywood Hardy Boys to see if they would accept our mystery offer. And yes, they did agree to help us out. Needless to say, they both owed me for helping them out when they filed bankruptcy. Roughly an hour and nine minutes later, there was a knock on the door of the Young Money Mansion. I opened the door and greeted the great mystery sleuths.
I led them into Hoff's room and exclaimed, "Mr. Hasselhoff, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the Hollywood Hardy Boys, Flavor Flave and Hulk Hogan!"
"No way! I used to party with Flavor back when he was still a thing. However, this is the first time I have met Mr. Hogan!" David proudly stated. Hulk and Flavor then sat with us and asked Hoff what all he remembered about last light, which wasn't much. But how could he be expected to remember everything that happened? After all, he was mad high, yo! After hearing Hoff's disturbing story, we set off to Beverly Hills, where Kanye's residence is located.
Hulk dropped kicked the door open and screamed, "Who do you think you are, taking advantage of The Hoff when he was crazy doped, BROTHER!?"
"Flavor Flave followed closely behind and yelled, "YEEEEAAAAAHHHHHH, BOI! What he said, son!" Hoff and I then nervously paced though the open doorway.
"Yo nigga, ever hear of knocking? Man, you can't just come barging through a brother's door like that! What if I was in the zone writing some dope lyrics with Jay or something, man?" Kanye questioned. We all then explained the story to Kanye.
Mr. West quickly got defensive and stated, "Yo, Kanye ain't like that. I don't play that fruity shit. I'm God, yo!" Mrs. West (formerly Kim Kardashian) walked into the room to see what all the hooting and hollering was about. Kim was surprisingly quiet. Some would even say she was suspiciously quiet. I approached her and asked what was up. She then fessed up and said it was actually her, not Kanye, who slept with The Hoff. I was relieved but still questioned her. It all adds up: the underwear were too large for an average woman, however Kim Kardashian is a big booty hoe who needs an extremely large pair of panties. She also said she was wearing the glasses because she did a line of coke with Hoff, and the glasses made her trip a whole lot cooler.
Pleasantly surprised by the news, Hoff, the Hollywood Hardy Boys, Kim, and I, and even Kanye went back to the Young Money Mansion to celebrate. Hoff was indeed straight, and all the evidence leads to it! Knowing this, I am sure we can all sleep a lot better at night.
Until next time, Logo out!