Legal junk: Before we begin! I did not write - and am in no way associated with - Rock DJ (thank everything that keeps me sane). That is all.
----
What a coincidence! Of all the MacDonalds' in all of America, Robbie Williams just happened to be in this one. This was certainly a turn-up for the books, so to speak. Not because he was my idol or because liked his music - in fact, the opposite was true. This was my chance to finally get some revenge for [insert long, drawn-out shudder at this point] Rock DJ. Let's - for the sake of the lucky soles out there who have not been subjected to the song - take a look at some of the lyrics:
"I don't wanna be sleazy
Baby just tease me
Got no family planned
Houston can you hear me
Ground-control can you feel me
Need permission to land
I don't wanna rock, DJ
But you're making me feel so nice
When's it gonna stop, DJ
Cause you're keepin' me up all night
I don't wanna rock, DJ
But you're making me feel so nice
When's it gonna stop, DJ
Cause you're keepin' me up all night
Pimpin' ain't easy
Most of them fleece me
Every night
Pimpin' ain't easy
But if you're sellin' it
It's alright"
Yes, it really is that bad. Another shocking coincidence (actually, it's merely for the purpose of furthering this story - Ed) was that Robbie Williams was involved in the Peter Andre consipiracy theory. Maybe I could have a 'friendly chat' with him, and persuade him to accompany me to the offices of Bill Gate. Unbeknownst to the darling Robbie, these offices were now occupied entirely by my ally Mr Smiley.
"Robbie Williams!" I cried.
"Ahh, another fan, eh? Sorry, I don't do autographs. All I want is to eat an effing MacDonald's in peace. Is that too much to ask?" He said, rather snobbily. This was followed by a long string of expletives.
"Actually, no. I hate you with the fiery passions of hell. I believe you should be castrated - if, in fact, you have not been already - for your shoddy music. I am here to discuss with you the disappearence of the mighty Peter Andre."
"W-what?! How do you know about that?!" Robbie became noticeably more nervous, and twitched a bit.
"Let's just say: I have my resources. But, I am merely a puppet operated by the metaphorical strings of a much greater master."
"...?" Confusion was evident on the young singer's face.
"I'm talking about Bill Gates, you numpty. He wishes to talk with you. The choice is entirely yours, but let's just say that if you refuse, you may meet a miserable end..."
"I'll do it! Just don't let him kill me!"
***
Robbie Williams grimaced and a whimper escaped his mouth as he saw the thing which sat in Bill Gate's office. Mr Smiley couldn't be further from the twisted, frail frame of Microsoft's creator. The large yellow ball looked slightly annoyed when I presented my find to him.
"What? What would I want with Robbie Williams? If it would please you, kill him. But I want nothing to do with him. I've heard his songs played on Mp3, and I was NOT impressed," he growled.
"Oh ho ho, but he can be of use," I winked. "Just think... who does Robbie Williams most appeal to?"
"Lunatics?"
"Indeed. But this must not become a chapter dedicated to extracting the proverbial piss from Robbie. I'm talking about teenage girls!"
"Look, Erin... I don't care where your sexual interests lie. If you want a teenage gi-"
"Can you shut up for just ONE SECOND?! Good. Listen, if we get Williams to sing a song encouraging the teenagers to rebel against Microsoft and aid us in our quest to take over the world, they'll do it. They will be as putty in our hands. Mine to mould for my own selfish desires... But, I digress. What do you think?"
"I like it. I do have a suggestion, though. Let's feed him vast quantities of Pepto-bismal first."
"Yes. Yes we shall."
----
Rather a short chapter. However, I'm trying to progress the plot more rapidly, and don't want to lose the momentum I have so recently gained.
----
What a coincidence! Of all the MacDonalds' in all of America, Robbie Williams just happened to be in this one. This was certainly a turn-up for the books, so to speak. Not because he was my idol or because liked his music - in fact, the opposite was true. This was my chance to finally get some revenge for [insert long, drawn-out shudder at this point] Rock DJ. Let's - for the sake of the lucky soles out there who have not been subjected to the song - take a look at some of the lyrics:
"I don't wanna be sleazy
Baby just tease me
Got no family planned
Houston can you hear me
Ground-control can you feel me
Need permission to land
I don't wanna rock, DJ
But you're making me feel so nice
When's it gonna stop, DJ
Cause you're keepin' me up all night
I don't wanna rock, DJ
But you're making me feel so nice
When's it gonna stop, DJ
Cause you're keepin' me up all night
Pimpin' ain't easy
Most of them fleece me
Every night
Pimpin' ain't easy
But if you're sellin' it
It's alright"
Yes, it really is that bad. Another shocking coincidence (actually, it's merely for the purpose of furthering this story - Ed) was that Robbie Williams was involved in the Peter Andre consipiracy theory. Maybe I could have a 'friendly chat' with him, and persuade him to accompany me to the offices of Bill Gate. Unbeknownst to the darling Robbie, these offices were now occupied entirely by my ally Mr Smiley.
"Robbie Williams!" I cried.
"Ahh, another fan, eh? Sorry, I don't do autographs. All I want is to eat an effing MacDonald's in peace. Is that too much to ask?" He said, rather snobbily. This was followed by a long string of expletives.
"Actually, no. I hate you with the fiery passions of hell. I believe you should be castrated - if, in fact, you have not been already - for your shoddy music. I am here to discuss with you the disappearence of the mighty Peter Andre."
"W-what?! How do you know about that?!" Robbie became noticeably more nervous, and twitched a bit.
"Let's just say: I have my resources. But, I am merely a puppet operated by the metaphorical strings of a much greater master."
"...?" Confusion was evident on the young singer's face.
"I'm talking about Bill Gates, you numpty. He wishes to talk with you. The choice is entirely yours, but let's just say that if you refuse, you may meet a miserable end..."
"I'll do it! Just don't let him kill me!"
***
Robbie Williams grimaced and a whimper escaped his mouth as he saw the thing which sat in Bill Gate's office. Mr Smiley couldn't be further from the twisted, frail frame of Microsoft's creator. The large yellow ball looked slightly annoyed when I presented my find to him.
"What? What would I want with Robbie Williams? If it would please you, kill him. But I want nothing to do with him. I've heard his songs played on Mp3, and I was NOT impressed," he growled.
"Oh ho ho, but he can be of use," I winked. "Just think... who does Robbie Williams most appeal to?"
"Lunatics?"
"Indeed. But this must not become a chapter dedicated to extracting the proverbial piss from Robbie. I'm talking about teenage girls!"
"Look, Erin... I don't care where your sexual interests lie. If you want a teenage gi-"
"Can you shut up for just ONE SECOND?! Good. Listen, if we get Williams to sing a song encouraging the teenagers to rebel against Microsoft and aid us in our quest to take over the world, they'll do it. They will be as putty in our hands. Mine to mould for my own selfish desires... But, I digress. What do you think?"
"I like it. I do have a suggestion, though. Let's feed him vast quantities of Pepto-bismal first."
"Yes. Yes we shall."
----
Rather a short chapter. However, I'm trying to progress the plot more rapidly, and don't want to lose the momentum I have so recently gained.
