The Saints of Virtue
-
Episode one: Blacks on Bobs
The underline should, but may for a number of technical reason not, read: "In this world, you got to fight to survive. Two men, two wills, two guns, eight rounds. Are you Afro, or are you Suede?"
Que intro
"Ah-ha, yeah, that's right. My man, fuck fuck fuck, YO! Fuck, fuck, fuck. Ahma fuck ya up hoe, cause ya aint a real niggah, n-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!" Phat bass. Thumpa, thumpa, thumpa. "Aight, my man. Yo," some black bitch comes in and shakes her ass so much that the TV-screen cracks. "Money maka, yo, "dumb-fucked head-bobbing. Nigger singer smacks the ass so hard that every single stereo system in the world explodes from the slap-sound.
"No-no-no-no!" a picture of Josh flashes by, split in three. An army of people armed with saxophones blow at the same time. "My nigger, my man, my main nigger-man. Yo, yo," the bass grows extremely loud around here. "Lemma lay the tunes on ya," singer pulls off his disguise, and proves that he is in fact Louis Armstrong, reanimated by arcance sorcery. "A nigger, from the ghetto, bad. So bad, gunz dun kill im," thumpa, thumpa, thumpa, THUMPA, THUMPA, THUMPA! "factz, they'z make im stronger, yo!" Louis spins around like Michael fucking Jackson, and reappears covered in bling. "Too cool, to fool. Too cruel, to rule. Nigga shot you once, you die. Nigga shot you twice, you die again," head bobbing. The entire scene is destroyed by a mighty explosion, and fifty chinese men appear out of nowhere, and they all shake their asses at the same time. Singer slaps them each in turn.
"So, my otha man, he be down with all yall," incoherent ranting, some beat-boxing. The chinese men does the YMCA in the background. "Slick, fucking low, fo sho," THUMPA! THUMPA! THUMPA! THUMPA! THUMPA! THUMPA! "name's J-zeus, blackest of em all, yall know," grinding noise, times a billion. Zhiga-zhiga-zhiga-zhiga! "Lord, of the burgers and bling," a loud'ching'-sound, like one of them ancient cash registers, or a typewriter, "ya dun need to find im cauze he always findz ya first, FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK! MOTHER FUCK!" a Silent 'Y-M-C-A' can be heard in the background, followed by the sound of leather whips against flesh. "ER!" picture of Jesus, wearing a cowboy hat with a thorned crown, which for some reason has christmas lights all over it. Slowly, a picture of his golden shotgun passes over the screen.
The phattest bass ever recorded takes place. It's so phat that the Earth shakes violently, and 'Frisco is drowned beneath the waves - finally. "They out dere, ta set thingz str8, like a mo-fucking gate - of peace!" THUMPA! THUMPA! THUMPA!
"They be..." everything grows silent and dark. Then, unexpectedly, a pathetic engine noise is heard, and a yellow pinto that should not be able to move, especially if you consider the amount of bling on it, crashes in through the background, killing all but one of the chinese men. "THE SAINTS OF VIRTUE!" then the singer is flattened by the pinto, and we get a close-up of the car from behind. The license plate reads '4REED0M,' and about twenty stickers have been slapped over the trunk, with such classics as 'Burger Lord, the lord of your burgers,' 'Too Cool To Fool,' and 'Honk and become a rich man - THANKS TO THE LORD.'
-
Poorly constructed houses, that are obviously two-dimensional, and horribly out of proportion, line the streets that the pinto, also known as the Saintmobile, drives back and forth through.
A chinese man, wearing only a blue thong, steps out on the road, and the Saintmobile flattens him dead, even though it's not even driving at ten kilometers an hour.
Camera switches to Jesus, who's smoking a one-meter cigarette which constantly bumps into, and tips over, the 'houses' they pass by.
"YO YO! Where be all da virgins, huh?" he demonstrates his super powers by inhaling sharply, which completely turns the cig to ash. Jesus then coughs for ten minutes, while Josh pulls cheap jokes out of his ass for no reason.
"Whatz da difference 'tween niggers and whites? COLOR!" loud laughter follows, from chinese men held hostage somewhere within the studio. To prove his skills, he puts the Saintmobile to overcharge, which is done by pressing a big red knob located on the steering wheel, where the honk would normally be. Plastic bags drop down over the car, and a hundred kilos of marijuana, which has been strategically placed in the back seat, immediately lights up.
Two minutes later, Josh is so stoned that he runs down every single house erected, and no less than fourteen chinese men, all wearing yellow overalls. A freakish sound plays, and Jesus almost has a heart-attack.
"Shit, man! Yo see that!" he declares out loud, and removes his hat. Concealed beneath it is a standard fragmentation grenade, made from solid gold.
Josh turns his head to look at Jesus, eyes crossed. Neither one has noticed that the pint-erhm, the Saintmobile has stalled against a concrete wall.
"It's the snake's fault! I must destroy it - for great justice and the Burger Lord!" Jesus then pulls the pin on the grenade, and attempts to throw it through the clear plastic. Unsurprisingly, it bounces back, to which he shrieks in terror, and backs up in his seat like a frightened cat.
"DON'T WORRY! THE TRAP WON'T GET YOU! NOT THIS TIME, AT LEAST!" Josh shouts out loud, puts in the reverse, and backs straight into yet another concrete wall. He then switches to manual, then to automatic, then manual again, finally deciding that manual is the way to go. The Saintmobile chews through rubber, as he rews it up to the absolute max - eighty fucking kilometers an hour. Two seconds later, he drops the brakes, and crashes straight into the wall from which he came.
Jesus' head impacts with the windshield, cracks it, because it's made from recycled glass, and not glass with layers of plastic. Quicker than any mortal stoner, he grabs the grenade, and forces it through the cracks. Slowly, ever so slowly, it rolls down, down, down, and eventually it disappears beneath the Saintmobile.
Josh then lays in the reverse - again - and impacts with the concrete wall behind them, also again.
They look at each other, and Jesus gives Josh a crazy thumbs up.
"We made it, bro! We be home free! We took on the world and won, like real American niggers!" they both laugh, then the grenade detonates, and the wall in front of them comes down on the Saintmobile.
-
COMMERCIAL BREAK!
-
Are you tired of McDonals, who actively endorse such unchristian things as fat food, toys, fun, sugar, and pimply teenagers? How about Burger King, with their customizable menus? Too stylish, you say? Well, lo and behold, good christians, for I have just the cure for you!
Listen and loin...
A crippled old man, with no eyes, no ears, no arms, and no legs, speaks with a quite voice.
"My lord, we five-thousand needy are starving. Please, find it in your heart to help us," there's no sight of these five-thousand needy people.
Jesus, who's wearing dope-ass pimp gear, and a crown of solid gold calmly places a hand on the man's shoulder.
"Forsooth, behold I shall make these loaves and fishes feed all of the needy!" Jesus touches the loaves and fishes which magically appeared in the man's lap, and a heavenly light shines upon him. Seconds later, all the angels in heaven sing out a loud 'HALLELUJA!' and the fishes and loaves have been replaced by a Burger Lord restaurant.
"Behold," Jesus speaks as the doors to the Burger Lord open, and harp song emits from within. The camera reveals that only angels crew the place, "for I say unto you: give a man a fish, and he shall feast for a day, but give a man a Burger Lord, and he shall feast for a lifetime! In a fun and family friendly fashion!"
-
COMMERCIAL BREAK!
-
"The Saintmobile; myth, or machine? What about the golden shotgun? Did the afro breathe its last?" it's voiced by Bill Cosby, who's recovered from the rape trial, and a recent crack addiction. "Find out, in the continuation of," long, drawn out pause, "SAINTS OF VIRTU-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E!"
Camera switches to a close-up of a horribly bandaged Jesus, who's sorta busy injecting large amounts of morphine.
"Yo, this no fun at all, yall ear? It be worse than dat shit Mel put me thru een The Passion!"
Horrible engine sounds sound, then an image of the Saintmobile shows. It flips around an excessive number of times, then the screen goes black and white, but mostly black.
Camera returns to Josh, who's driving the Saintmobile backwards through a newly created fake-city. The roof's been compressed, and his afro sticks out of the broken top window.
The car trails bling and pieces of concrete, and the engine makes several unhealthy noises, but Josh doesn't seem to care.
He looks straight into the camera, face changes into an extremely sad pout.
"Look what the snake did to my baby," tears stream from his eyes, and the car wheezes and sputters. "Aw, no baby, don't give up on daddy yet! Ahma make you good as new, with stripes and mighty American flags!"
"What's today's mission?" the guy behind the camera asks. Josh looks dumber than usual, blinks a few times, then pulls yet another thing straight out of his ass.
"Today we be jammin,' with da man! Tha man is, of course, Bob, and we're blacks, thus we're," a loud saxophone solo, "BLACKS ON BOBS!" He points straight ahead, which is in the same direction he crashed the car. "TO THE SAINT CAVE!"
Ugly pictures of Josh and Jesus spin around an insane number of times, and a choir of chinese men shout 'FUCK' a hundred times a second.
Camera finally returns, and we see both Josh and Jesus, just standing around, doing absolutely nothing productive at all. The Saintmobile lies in pieces before them, like the only screw that held it together was pulled by accident.
Josh scratches his afro, for some dumb reason.
"Well, this complicates things."
Jesus nods, twice.
"Yupp, it sure does." He finishes by scratching his thorny crown, and cuts his hand bad.
Two minutes pass, then Josh shines up.
"We can fix it! Make it better, faster, stronger, more powerful!" Jesus leaps backwards, then starts spinning.
Josh kick-starts everything. Suddenly, they're both wearing white clothes, and the Saintmobile has recovered to a shell.
Finally, Jesus stops spinning.
He looks no less than five-hundred years younger, and so does Josh.
Funky pop music starts playing, and a short, thin, very aryian man drops from the ceiling. He's wielding a grease gun, which he uses to splatter grease all over the Saintmobile.
A pathetic engine block also arrives from the ceiling, but the 'invisible' strings snap, and it crashes down slightly off target. No one seems to notice. Even more chinese men arrive, wearing nothing but white socks. They each place a single sticker, stripe, or flag on the car, then they leave.
"Ahma call it THUNDER!" Jesus exclaims, to which Josh grinds his teeth slighly.
"Fool! Such a ride can only be known by one name, one sacred name..." a drawn out pause, then the aryian man plays a disted riff on an air guitar, which, for some reason, actually has sound. "LIGHTNING!"
"Yeah, totally," Jesus adds, then lights a cigarette, which he promptly discards onto the Saintmobile. Naturally, it goes up in flames, again to no one's surprise.
"Now it's TORCHED LIGHTNING, NOT GREASED LIGHTNING!" both super heroes cry out in unision, then they high-five each other, first low, then high.
The aryian man is about to say something, but decides to keep his mouth shut.
Because he hasn't proven his skills in quite a while, Jesus decide to kick the man, who takes off flying. He lands somewhere outside the filming area.
Josh is too busy watching the Saint cave's walls burn. As the flames engulf the poorly-drawn boards, yet more chinese men are revealed to be standing behind them.
"They on our turf!" Jesus exclaims, and draws his shotgun. Josh draws his pimp-killa, and they proceed to slaughter a total of two chinese men with no less than eight rounds. Everything is shown in graphic detail, even in slow-motion, and rewinded a dozen times.
"Where's Bob at, yall?" Jesus asks once the killing is over. His crazy eyes search the team, but find no Bob.
A sigh, then Josh places a hand on Jesus' shoulder.
"Jesus, my nigga, you kicked Bob so hard that he di-di-di-di-di--------------
A technical malfunction cuts the live-feed, and Chairman Mao weeps a bit in his grave.
-
VT2 - 0-2664. Registered in various countries around and on the globe we call Earth.
