Jet Grind Radio was not a creation of mine. All characters herein are property of Sega Enterprises and shi-yit like that. Now, off with the story.
-Gibson
It was an ordinary spring day. The birds were chirping outside and the sun shined brilliantly over the beautiful and diverse city of Shibuya-Cho. Despite the wonderful skating weather, Beat sat in his small bedroom reading an old X-men magazine he found in the closet. All the GG (Graffiti Gang) had come down with some weird type of disease after Mew had brought in some old Chinese food that sat in her fridge for at least a month.
They almost kicked her out of the gang until she pointed out they stole it from her...
Luckily, (or unfortunately) Beat never liked orange chicken (at least he hoped it was chicken; you could never know for sure with Chinese food) so he didn't partake in that zesty, delectable goodness. As a result, he was as healthy as an ox but he had nothing to do.
He wanted to go skating, but skating alone wasn't such a good idea in this town. They had this weird cop called Onishima that would always try to catch you, but what he would do after he caught you was a mystery. Some say that you would receive life imprisonment and go to a `pound-me-in-the-ass federal prison'. Some would say that you would be executed in an unsavory manner. Anyway, everyone was far too worried or frightened to find out, which is why he or she ran like hell when Onishima would rear that ugly, greasy head. They were so frightened of him that criminals were never caught since they ran for their damned lives.
When you had a friend by your side it was easier to draw away any cops by running in separate directions. When they attack together in one group, it could get pretty ugly. That's why Beat sat on the topside of his bunk bed, reading an old X-men comic.
"Hey, Beat, let me read the comic."
He felt the bed shake as his little brother Thomas kicked at the bottom of his bed. Beat smiled knowingly to himself, he couldn't do any more then that or else Beat would beat the crap out of him. In a fight, his younger brother was like a rag doll. So he only ignored him.
"Come on! I know what you're doing! You're only staring at that one page where Rouge is vulnerable!"
Beat snickers, "Yeah, you're right. I am."
"Well how come?" He asked, a whining sound detected in his voice.
"Because Rouge is DAMN fine when she's vulnerable! Mmm-HMM!" Beat said, with a gigantic smile plastered on his face.
"Dad! Beat said a bad word!" Thomas yelled out.
Beat sighed inwardly. He could kick his brother's butt with ease, he could spit torture him without any trouble, but when he called for reinforcements Beat didn't stand a ghost of a chance. He frowned, as he heard footsteps coming towards his room. His father was there, dressed and ready for work. "Beat," he said, sounding exasperated, "what are you doing this time?"
"I was just looking at Rouge being vulnerable." Beat said innocently.
His father's eyebrows raised, "Really? Rouge being vulnerable?"
Beat nodded
His father quickly shook his head, "No matter, don't swear, it's not excepted in this household."
Beat groaned. He hated that phrase, it made him feel like he lived in a prison.
Thomas waited until the authority was gone and said, "You heard him, give me the comic!"
Beat laughed, "Don't be stupid. He didn't say that." Beat glanced at his watch, and it was around two. He glanced over at his skates and then out the window. The sun bathed the whole word in its warm, inviting rays. He made up his mind. "You know what? Go ahead and take it, retard. I'm going skating."
He tossed it to his younger brother who was happy to get it, but still had a frown on his face as Beat laced up his skates. "I'm not a retard."
"Yes you are." Beat replied, skating out the door and down the hallway.
The house was empty now and Thomas sat on the bottom part of the bunk bed reading an old X-men comic that his brother found in the closet. He smiled as he looked at a picture of Rouge being chained to wall, her clothes worn and torn. "Mmm-HMM! Rouge is DAMN fine when she's vulnerable."
* * *
Beat smiled as he heard the blades roll under his feet. The wind whipped at his short red hair, his baggy yellow shirt, and his loose black pants. This is what spring is all about. He was just fine until he saw a large poster.
He felt his muscles tense and the hair on his neck stand up straight at the sight of Onishima's ugly face on a propaganda poster. He looked like Uncle Sam, with his finger pointed towards Beat, like it was claiming him. He was wearing a police outfit, and a large gun holstered on his side. At the top of the poster it said, "You step out of line, and your ass is mine."
Catchy motto Beat had to admit. Got the idea across.
His index finger twitched as if he were spraying an invisible spray can. Beat growled and slapped that twitching hand. He could feel the need to graffiti spread over him as he looked at Onishima's leering image. He could feel that hand finger a cylinder can in his cargo pocket.
"NO!" He said out aloud, scaring some people passing by, "It's not right!" He started pacing in front of the picture like a tiger pacing around in a cage. He shot glances at the poster and every time he did he saw something else he could do to make fun of it. Suddenly he heard a voice.
"Hey Meaty Beaty, let me out sweetie."
Beat's hand instinctively opened up the cargo pocket on his right side. He held up a barely used spray paint can. He was a little shocked to see the face of a bablicious woman on the nozzle. "What do you want? Why do you tempt me so?" Beat said, a wavering tone detected in his voice.
"Come on, spray me. You know you want to." The woman said seductively.
Beat gasped, and smiled sheepishly. "But baby, people are looking! They're looking at me right now!" That was true, a small crowd of people looked at him with a sick sense of amusement.
The imaginary woman only looked at him with a lustful, longing look. "Oh," she groaned, "but I want you to spray me right now!" She finished the sentence with a heightened sense of urgency that would be hard for ANY man to refuse. "Come on, baby." She said with a sexy wink, "Just a quickie for old times sake." She pursed her lips at him, almost sealing his fate.
"No! It's not right! I can't! I can't! I can't!" He screamed.
"Isn't it better that Tab isn't here? You don't have to share me this time. You could have me all to yourself." She said, slowly, savoring every word.
"Gum's going to be mad at me you know!" Beat said in desperation.
"Oh? I thought you wore the pants in the relationship." Said the voice.
"W-what? I'm a man! I wear the pants dammit! ME!"
"If that was true, you'd be spraying right now." Said the voice.
Beat was silent and smiling evilly now.
"Be a man, Beat. It's what you do best." She said with a sense of finality.
"Oh right, oh right!" He said lecherously. "Get yourself ready baby!" He shook the can violently, hearing the metallic rattle only got him more anxious.
"Oh yeah! Shake me up good Beat!" The can yelled.
Beat put his finger to the nozzle and pressed hard and a burst of paint flew onto the poster. He started to paint a tutu on Onishima's torso. "Oh yeah, you like the colors baby? You like the colors?"
"Oh," the voice gasped, "yes, yes I love the colors."
"You like the dripping technique? The stenciling? The 3-D effect? The contrast? Do you? DO YOU?" Beat yelled.
"OH YES! YES! YES!" The voice yelled.
"Oh yeah, here comes a funny caption baby, are you ready for a funny caption?" Beat smirked.
"I don't know. I don't know, just keep going." The voice said.
Beat was too caught up to realize, but a whole crowd was gathered around him now and they were watching him with perverse fascination. Beat continued shouting lecherously as he finished up the final touches of his masterpiece. When he was done, he and the imaginary voice were gasping. "That was wonderful Beat!"
"Whew, thanks baby, I try."
Suddenly, he heard a distinct noise from behind him. He spun around and he saw the audience splitting like the Red Sea as a familiar face came closer. It was Onishima, but for a man that had been publicly insulted, he looked rather calm. He looked up at Beat's masterpiece. He managed to keep his calm even still, which showed a lot of self restraint.
Where the poster used to be was now a pile of paint that was cleverly used to completely alter the picture. Onishima was no longer wearing a cop outfit, but a bright, pink tutu. The gun at his side was now a large box of condoms. There were two new additions, which were two desperate looking jailbirds eyeing Onishima on each side. The caption that once struck fear in Beat was now replaced with the caption, "Got bitch?"
Onishima's eyes went back to Beat, who was smiling sheepishly and turning (pardon the expression) beet-red. It was evident that Beat was trying to say something, but the only thing he could croak out was, "I-I-I'm in trouble, aren't I?" Onishima nodded. Beat looked at the picture he made, at Onishima, then at the can, then at the picture again, and he smiled brightly as if he had an excuse.
"W-wait! It wasn't me! It was this can!" He started pointing to the can frantically. It tempted me! It made me do it, tell them baby!" He held out the can as if he expected the cops to see the same hot-looking woman he saw, but they only saw a paint covered nozzle. When Beat realized they didn't believe him he groaned in disgust and threw the can as hard as he could, "You damn little trick!" He yelled. With that he skated off in a blur.
He didn't get far though.
Every exit was sealed off by a police car and the police were surrounding him already. Images filled his head and they weren't pretty ones. Onishima would bust his head in if he got caught, and he liked his head the way it was so he continued to evade the police at every cost.
It was amazing, Beat managed to evade them for a whole hour until Onishima tackled him. By then Onishima was out of breath and laying on top of him. He managed to gasp out, "Why the (gasp) hell do you (gasp) run?"
"Because (gasp) I don't wanna (gasp) die." Replied Beat.
"Why the (gasp) hell do you think (gasp) you're gonna die?"
"Because (gasp) I was spray painting on public (gasp) property."
Onishima burst out laughing, but since he was out of breath, it was more like a wheeze. "For spray painting? (gasp) You thought I'd kill your ass for (gasp) spray painting?"
"Well, (gasp) it was your posters that gave us that idea." Beat said indignantly. (But not that indignantly since he was so damned tired).
"No (gasp) shit?" Onishima said in honest surprise.
"Yeah. (gasp) No shit." Replied Beat.
"Would it help if I change the (gasp) posters to say, `We'll catch you someday or another, so turn yourself in to get a sucker?' (gasp)"
"Are you saying that if anyone turn themselves in, (gasp) they get a sucker?" Beat asked.
"Yeah. (gasp) Would it work?"
Might. (gasp)"
"Word. (gasp) I'll give it a go."
"Onishima?" Beat asked.
"What (gasp) is it, kid?"
"Can I have one? (gasp)"
"Yeah. (gasp) Sure."
With that the two passed out.
Author's Note: You know, I was a little scared to put this out. It is pretty damn weird. Give me some feedback, alright?
-Gibson
It was an ordinary spring day. The birds were chirping outside and the sun shined brilliantly over the beautiful and diverse city of Shibuya-Cho. Despite the wonderful skating weather, Beat sat in his small bedroom reading an old X-men magazine he found in the closet. All the GG (Graffiti Gang) had come down with some weird type of disease after Mew had brought in some old Chinese food that sat in her fridge for at least a month.
They almost kicked her out of the gang until she pointed out they stole it from her...
Luckily, (or unfortunately) Beat never liked orange chicken (at least he hoped it was chicken; you could never know for sure with Chinese food) so he didn't partake in that zesty, delectable goodness. As a result, he was as healthy as an ox but he had nothing to do.
He wanted to go skating, but skating alone wasn't such a good idea in this town. They had this weird cop called Onishima that would always try to catch you, but what he would do after he caught you was a mystery. Some say that you would receive life imprisonment and go to a `pound-me-in-the-ass federal prison'. Some would say that you would be executed in an unsavory manner. Anyway, everyone was far too worried or frightened to find out, which is why he or she ran like hell when Onishima would rear that ugly, greasy head. They were so frightened of him that criminals were never caught since they ran for their damned lives.
When you had a friend by your side it was easier to draw away any cops by running in separate directions. When they attack together in one group, it could get pretty ugly. That's why Beat sat on the topside of his bunk bed, reading an old X-men comic.
"Hey, Beat, let me read the comic."
He felt the bed shake as his little brother Thomas kicked at the bottom of his bed. Beat smiled knowingly to himself, he couldn't do any more then that or else Beat would beat the crap out of him. In a fight, his younger brother was like a rag doll. So he only ignored him.
"Come on! I know what you're doing! You're only staring at that one page where Rouge is vulnerable!"
Beat snickers, "Yeah, you're right. I am."
"Well how come?" He asked, a whining sound detected in his voice.
"Because Rouge is DAMN fine when she's vulnerable! Mmm-HMM!" Beat said, with a gigantic smile plastered on his face.
"Dad! Beat said a bad word!" Thomas yelled out.
Beat sighed inwardly. He could kick his brother's butt with ease, he could spit torture him without any trouble, but when he called for reinforcements Beat didn't stand a ghost of a chance. He frowned, as he heard footsteps coming towards his room. His father was there, dressed and ready for work. "Beat," he said, sounding exasperated, "what are you doing this time?"
"I was just looking at Rouge being vulnerable." Beat said innocently.
His father's eyebrows raised, "Really? Rouge being vulnerable?"
Beat nodded
His father quickly shook his head, "No matter, don't swear, it's not excepted in this household."
Beat groaned. He hated that phrase, it made him feel like he lived in a prison.
Thomas waited until the authority was gone and said, "You heard him, give me the comic!"
Beat laughed, "Don't be stupid. He didn't say that." Beat glanced at his watch, and it was around two. He glanced over at his skates and then out the window. The sun bathed the whole word in its warm, inviting rays. He made up his mind. "You know what? Go ahead and take it, retard. I'm going skating."
He tossed it to his younger brother who was happy to get it, but still had a frown on his face as Beat laced up his skates. "I'm not a retard."
"Yes you are." Beat replied, skating out the door and down the hallway.
The house was empty now and Thomas sat on the bottom part of the bunk bed reading an old X-men comic that his brother found in the closet. He smiled as he looked at a picture of Rouge being chained to wall, her clothes worn and torn. "Mmm-HMM! Rouge is DAMN fine when she's vulnerable."
* * *
Beat smiled as he heard the blades roll under his feet. The wind whipped at his short red hair, his baggy yellow shirt, and his loose black pants. This is what spring is all about. He was just fine until he saw a large poster.
He felt his muscles tense and the hair on his neck stand up straight at the sight of Onishima's ugly face on a propaganda poster. He looked like Uncle Sam, with his finger pointed towards Beat, like it was claiming him. He was wearing a police outfit, and a large gun holstered on his side. At the top of the poster it said, "You step out of line, and your ass is mine."
Catchy motto Beat had to admit. Got the idea across.
His index finger twitched as if he were spraying an invisible spray can. Beat growled and slapped that twitching hand. He could feel the need to graffiti spread over him as he looked at Onishima's leering image. He could feel that hand finger a cylinder can in his cargo pocket.
"NO!" He said out aloud, scaring some people passing by, "It's not right!" He started pacing in front of the picture like a tiger pacing around in a cage. He shot glances at the poster and every time he did he saw something else he could do to make fun of it. Suddenly he heard a voice.
"Hey Meaty Beaty, let me out sweetie."
Beat's hand instinctively opened up the cargo pocket on his right side. He held up a barely used spray paint can. He was a little shocked to see the face of a bablicious woman on the nozzle. "What do you want? Why do you tempt me so?" Beat said, a wavering tone detected in his voice.
"Come on, spray me. You know you want to." The woman said seductively.
Beat gasped, and smiled sheepishly. "But baby, people are looking! They're looking at me right now!" That was true, a small crowd of people looked at him with a sick sense of amusement.
The imaginary woman only looked at him with a lustful, longing look. "Oh," she groaned, "but I want you to spray me right now!" She finished the sentence with a heightened sense of urgency that would be hard for ANY man to refuse. "Come on, baby." She said with a sexy wink, "Just a quickie for old times sake." She pursed her lips at him, almost sealing his fate.
"No! It's not right! I can't! I can't! I can't!" He screamed.
"Isn't it better that Tab isn't here? You don't have to share me this time. You could have me all to yourself." She said, slowly, savoring every word.
"Gum's going to be mad at me you know!" Beat said in desperation.
"Oh? I thought you wore the pants in the relationship." Said the voice.
"W-what? I'm a man! I wear the pants dammit! ME!"
"If that was true, you'd be spraying right now." Said the voice.
Beat was silent and smiling evilly now.
"Be a man, Beat. It's what you do best." She said with a sense of finality.
"Oh right, oh right!" He said lecherously. "Get yourself ready baby!" He shook the can violently, hearing the metallic rattle only got him more anxious.
"Oh yeah! Shake me up good Beat!" The can yelled.
Beat put his finger to the nozzle and pressed hard and a burst of paint flew onto the poster. He started to paint a tutu on Onishima's torso. "Oh yeah, you like the colors baby? You like the colors?"
"Oh," the voice gasped, "yes, yes I love the colors."
"You like the dripping technique? The stenciling? The 3-D effect? The contrast? Do you? DO YOU?" Beat yelled.
"OH YES! YES! YES!" The voice yelled.
"Oh yeah, here comes a funny caption baby, are you ready for a funny caption?" Beat smirked.
"I don't know. I don't know, just keep going." The voice said.
Beat was too caught up to realize, but a whole crowd was gathered around him now and they were watching him with perverse fascination. Beat continued shouting lecherously as he finished up the final touches of his masterpiece. When he was done, he and the imaginary voice were gasping. "That was wonderful Beat!"
"Whew, thanks baby, I try."
Suddenly, he heard a distinct noise from behind him. He spun around and he saw the audience splitting like the Red Sea as a familiar face came closer. It was Onishima, but for a man that had been publicly insulted, he looked rather calm. He looked up at Beat's masterpiece. He managed to keep his calm even still, which showed a lot of self restraint.
Where the poster used to be was now a pile of paint that was cleverly used to completely alter the picture. Onishima was no longer wearing a cop outfit, but a bright, pink tutu. The gun at his side was now a large box of condoms. There were two new additions, which were two desperate looking jailbirds eyeing Onishima on each side. The caption that once struck fear in Beat was now replaced with the caption, "Got bitch?"
Onishima's eyes went back to Beat, who was smiling sheepishly and turning (pardon the expression) beet-red. It was evident that Beat was trying to say something, but the only thing he could croak out was, "I-I-I'm in trouble, aren't I?" Onishima nodded. Beat looked at the picture he made, at Onishima, then at the can, then at the picture again, and he smiled brightly as if he had an excuse.
"W-wait! It wasn't me! It was this can!" He started pointing to the can frantically. It tempted me! It made me do it, tell them baby!" He held out the can as if he expected the cops to see the same hot-looking woman he saw, but they only saw a paint covered nozzle. When Beat realized they didn't believe him he groaned in disgust and threw the can as hard as he could, "You damn little trick!" He yelled. With that he skated off in a blur.
He didn't get far though.
Every exit was sealed off by a police car and the police were surrounding him already. Images filled his head and they weren't pretty ones. Onishima would bust his head in if he got caught, and he liked his head the way it was so he continued to evade the police at every cost.
It was amazing, Beat managed to evade them for a whole hour until Onishima tackled him. By then Onishima was out of breath and laying on top of him. He managed to gasp out, "Why the (gasp) hell do you (gasp) run?"
"Because (gasp) I don't wanna (gasp) die." Replied Beat.
"Why the (gasp) hell do you think (gasp) you're gonna die?"
"Because (gasp) I was spray painting on public (gasp) property."
Onishima burst out laughing, but since he was out of breath, it was more like a wheeze. "For spray painting? (gasp) You thought I'd kill your ass for (gasp) spray painting?"
"Well, (gasp) it was your posters that gave us that idea." Beat said indignantly. (But not that indignantly since he was so damned tired).
"No (gasp) shit?" Onishima said in honest surprise.
"Yeah. (gasp) No shit." Replied Beat.
"Would it help if I change the (gasp) posters to say, `We'll catch you someday or another, so turn yourself in to get a sucker?' (gasp)"
"Are you saying that if anyone turn themselves in, (gasp) they get a sucker?" Beat asked.
"Yeah. (gasp) Would it work?"
Might. (gasp)"
"Word. (gasp) I'll give it a go."
"Onishima?" Beat asked.
"What (gasp) is it, kid?"
"Can I have one? (gasp)"
"Yeah. (gasp) Sure."
With that the two passed out.
Author's Note: You know, I was a little scared to put this out. It is pretty damn weird. Give me some feedback, alright?