Day Five

Carl waited patiently by the door, expecting the arrival of his best friend. Lazlow had the stage-hand press the bell every five minutes, to get his hopes up.

After a long wait, the shutter was lifted, and the door opened. Cesar was walked in by two large bouncers who held his hands behind his back.

"Hey, CJ! They took my gun and everything, man! They don't trust me!" he said in a bright and unusually cheerful tone.

Carl hugged Cesar, and Claude threw up into a nearby plant pot.

The new visitor noticed Tommy standing idly, and approached him. "Ah, aloha, amigo."

"Excuse me?"

"I said hello, bro. Are you going to leave me hanging, holmes?" said Cesar.

"Are you retarded? I mean, look at you! Is this what I have to put up with here? I get stuck in this shit hole where I haven't been fed for the last five days and to top it all off – I have you. What the hell are you? Shouldn't you be out selling drugs and driving cars?"

"I love cars! How did you know? And I'm not retarded, holmes, but I think he is." He pointed to the doorway, where Kent Paul was arguing with the bouncers.

"Alright, alright. It was an easy mistake." yelled Paul. Tommy walked over. "Oh, you back away now, ponce. Tommy, teach these guys a lesson, mate."

"Alright," sighed Tommy. "what seems to be the problem?"

"We caught this guy trying to sneak in through a window."

Paul looked embarrassed.

"Then, when we brought him out, he stole the security camera and started running around talking and filming himself."

"Tommy, mate, you understand. I wanna be famous again. Way back when, everyone knew my name, Tommy. I was in league with the greats."

"Who are you again?" asked one of the bouncers. He was dressed all in black, and had shades on, like every other bouncer from every movie ever.

"Don't play games, sunshine. I'm too crafty for that."

"No, really. Are you famous? Coz we were just gonna throw you in an insane asylum."

"Kent Paul, mate. Kent Paul."

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"Love Fist? The Girning Chimps? I managed em all. You all remember Maccer, right?"

Hearing this name, CJ invited himself into the conversation, leaving Cesar and Claude to stare each other out.

"You killed my cousin, amigo."

Claude looked at him as if to say, "I've killed a lot of people, buddy, what makes your cousin so special?"

"I'm gonna cut you." Claude looked at his empty hands. "Oh shit, they took my knife." Cesar dug into his pocket and produced a comb. He shrugged, and tried to stab Claude with it. Claude backed away in mock fear, until he reached the bedroom. He felt around behind him, until he felt a familiar shape. He grabbed the gun and fired at Cesar's forehead.

Realising he was actually shooting with a BB gun and not a real one lessened Cesar's panic, as the bullet bounced off his forehead, leaving a faint mark.

"Bitch."

Claude fired again. Cesar ducked.

"Ow, fuck you Claude!" yelled CJ.

He fired again. He hit CJ again. That time he meant it.

Cesar laughed mockingly at him. Claude looked at the gun, weighing it in his hands. He came to a simple conclusion, and clubbed Cesar in the head with it.

Claude walked off into the group that had congregated at the door. He listened.

"Well," said Paul, "long story short, Maccer is dead." Everyone gasped. CJ gasped considerably later than everyone else due to a delayed reaction. "I don't mean dead dead. I mean his career is dead."

"Paul, you ever notice that any band you ever manage ends up dead within a year or two? And that can be taken metaphorically and literally." said Tommy.

"Well, Tommy, that's all gonna change now. Say hello to the future of music. Say hello to OG Loc!"

A heavily tattooed, thin man, who was topless and had a hat on, jumped into the room. "What up? I'm OG Loc! OG Loc baby!"

"Man, I gotta apologise to Cesar for that retard crack." Tommy said, shaking his head.

"You talkin' about me, you busta fool?"

Tommy opened his mouth to say, "well you're the only retard around here", but thought about this, and settled for, "yes."

"You can't talk jack about me, playa. I'm gangsta!" he retorted almost shouting.

Well hey. What do you ya know? If it isn't OG Joke.

"Lazlow? Oh yeah, you a tough guy now, huh? Where is he? I'll kill him! No one disses me, I'm GANGSTA!"

Um. . .he's right over there."

OG Loc turned and ran down the path in the direction Tommy had pointed, screaming and waving his arms.

"I was thinking he could stay in the house with you guys,"said Paul.

"No!" yelled Tommy.

"No!"

Even Claude shouted.

"Aha!" yelled CJ. "Lazlow, did you hear that!"

Hear what?

"He. . .he spoke! Claude spoke."

Oh. .. yeah. . .suuuure he did Carl. I believe you.

"Damn prick."

So, I say Ogg Lock can stay for a while. At least he'll stay away from me.

Loc came running back up the path, panting and breathing heavily. "I think. . .I think he got away."

"Shut up."

"Who you talkin' to, fool? No one tells OG Loc to shut up, coz I'm-"

"GANGSTA!" everyone chorused. "WE KNOW! SHUT UP!"

"Oh yeah? Well this guy didn't say nothin' bout me! He understands!" said Loc, pointing to Claude. He realised that no one was listening to him, and in fact, most of them had left the room.

He turned to Claude. "What's up, homie?"

Claude leaned back against a wall nonchalantly, trying to mock Loc.

"Oh, I know you didn't just ignore me, homie. I KNOW you didn't just play me. You think you're all that, bro? Huh? I'm from the streets, bro, I'm GANGSTA!"

Claude snickered to himself. He noticed everyone was peeking past the bedroom door, watching him and OG Loc. Claude held the gun in his grip. He aimed the barrel at Loc's head, and Loc backed off a bit.

"Hey, Loc, watch yourself, holmes. He's pretty powerful with that thing." said Cesar, nursing the bruise on his head.

"C. . .C'mon homie, don't shoot me! I'm. . .I'm sorry, man." Claude took a few steps forward.

Claude, please stop threatening the guests.

Claude gave the finger to a nearby camera.

And I saw that.

Claude shrugged.

Okay, I have a new idea for a challenge. And I don't think you're gonna like it.Since we have the once famous rapper- for inexplicable reasons I'm sure – OG Loc on the show, I thought we would have a bit of karaoke. I figure Claude can be the judge, since he won't speak, and the rest of you will have to perform. Now I want you to be fair, Claude, and don't let personal vendettas obscure your judgement. Now Claude will have to find his own way to make his opinion clear, and can choose one of the men, the one he thinks is least blessed in the vocal category, to be EVICTED. Lazlow delivered the last word in a deep, booming voice in an attempt to enhance the severity, but only made himself sound stupid.

Well Claude, take a seat, and everyone else, take your positions.

Cesar took the stage first, and delivered a beautiful rendition of "Japanese Boy". Amazingly, Claude managed to keep a straight face throughout.

Tommy simply threatened Claude until he was granted permission to stay, without actually performing.

CJ sang Whitey Shafer's "All My Exes Live In Texas" and was accompanied by Cesar half way through. Claude showed his thoughts with a simple thumbs down and put a question mark next to CJ's name on the audition sheet.

Then, as OG Loc took the stage, everyone gathered round to hear him. Everyone apart from CJ, who came to the conclusion that he would be singing original songs after the lawsuit from Madd Dogg. He worked this out all by himself.

"What's up, it's yo' man OG Loc gonna bust a rhyme fo' ya right now!"

Claude put a cross next to the check box marked "grammar".

Lazlow put on an instrumental version of "Don't U Know I'm Loc, Oh Man?" that he found in a ninety-nine cents bin.

"Ohhhh, it's Loc baby, no joke baby, no joke it's Loc no joke it's uh. . . lemme see ya throw your hands in the air, wave em like ya just don't care!"

No one moved.

"Uh. . . say yo it's Loc baby, say yo it's Loc baby, say yo it's Loc baby, say yo it's Loc baby,. . ."

Claude waited through this for about two minutes.

"Say Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, say Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee say. . . yeah."

This time, Claude expressed his opinion, by shooting Loc with the BB gun. When this didn't stop Loc from singing, he turned the gun around and shot himself. Claude carefully put crosses in all the categories on the sheet, then tore it into several pieces, then into even smaller pieces.

I uh. . .think Claude is trying to tell us something, Loc.

Claude looked relieved.

Go on. Get outta here.

"Can't I at least stay tonight?"

Tommy was standing behind him, contemplating hitting him with a bat.

Of course. What bad could possibly happen?

Loc turned round, and Tommy quickly threw the bat away, clubbing Claude in the head and knocking him out again. He whistled nervously.

Later that night, the men had a buffet of various "just add water" snacks. Tommy looked at his dejectedly, and noticed it was no longer there, as CJ was sitting next to him, cradling it in his arms and waving the fork at anyone who so much as looked at him.

Sleeping arrangements were an issue. No one was sure whether to trust Loc, despite how "str8" he said he was. In the end, he was ostracised by a five to one vote (Lazlow included) and was left to sleep in the lounge area.

He tossed and turned, but a noise kept him awake. A constant drip, drip, drip, drip. . . He made his way to the kitchen and saw the dripping faucet. (I'm meeting you half way, Americans, it could just as easily have been a dripping tap.) He watched it, as if trying to turn it off with mind control. When this didn't work, he twisted the top, first in the wrong direction, soaking himself. When he tried the other way, it broke off, and continued to drip, slowly and steadily, and in an extremely more full of itself attitude.

"YOU TRYIN' TO DISS ME? COZ I'M GANGSTA, BITCH."

"Hey, shut up, Loc." someone shouted.

"You wanna mess with me, faucet?" he whispered. "Then mess with this, fool!"

He kicked the faucet, breaking it even more, and causing a fountain of water to spew out.

"Shit. I don't wanna be around when they find this."

He gathered his things, and climbed out a window. A bright blue light blinded him. He could hear the sound of an alarm, and barking dogs nearby.

"Uh-oh."

He continued to run, dogs on his tail, until he found a parked car. It was unlocked. Thank God. He opened the door and threw himself inside, immediately closing the door behind him so the dogs could not get him. Here he hid for about twenty minutes, until the dogs got tired and left.

He must have fallen asleep, because next thing he knew, the car was moving. The driver noticed the movement in the back seat, and stopped the car. He locked the doors. Then he spoke.

"OG Loc? Man, I haven't seen you in years. Still STEALING MY RHYMES YOU MOTHERFUCKIN' BUSTA?"

Loc tugged and tugged at the handle but couldn't budge it.

"Let's go for a drive." said Madd Dogg. "Why are you wet?"

He geared the car up and drove away into the distance.

A/N: Kitty Gaby came up with a lot of those OG Loc ideas, so don't give me all the credit:)

Thanks for the ideas! And everyone else feel free to tell me who you wanna see. I can't promise I'll use em all though. Keep reading!