“He might’ve done some shit back in the day, but my main nigga Rod ain’t sellin’ this marriage fo’ shit.” Lil Wayne grinned as he stepped forward to kiss his now husband, Rod Blagojevich.
“If anyone has any objections to this marriage which has just been undertaken, speak now or forever hold your peace,” the pastor, Gudda Gudda, said in a calm and collected way.
“No, you can’t go through with this, Dwayne!” Drake shouted from behind him.
The audience was shocked.
“WHAT!?” Lil Jon shouted, almost fainting in surprise.
Lil Wayne, too, was shocked, and he turned around to look Aubrey in the face.
“Drake, my nigga, why you be objectin’ to this shit? Can’t you see that Rod and I are madly in love? He’s got a pussy like a crater,” Lil Wayne said, lovestruck, as he moved to fondle Rod’s tight ass.
Drake sighed. “But Dwayne, my main man, you don’t want to get married to no new friends. Come, be with me, ‘cos I can teach you my language, Rosetta Stone,” he said in a similarly lovestruck, yet all the same nervous way.
“Don’t judge us. You wanna judge us, put on a black gown and get a gavel. Get in line with the rest of ‘em that’s about to judge us. I got court dates every other month. It’s us against the world – that’s how I feel,” Lil Wayne growled as he scooped Rod up in his arms and started angrily marching away. Drake stood behind him, his mouth open and his heart broken.
As Lil Wayne stormed away, he didn’t notice the wrinkle in the carpet and stumbled, throwing Rod into the air before him. And, on top of that, Lil Wayne didn’t notice the, in his own words, ‘BIG ASS PORTAL’ open beneath him. And so Lil Wayne fell for what felt like miles through nothingness. After some time, he blacked out, but not because he’s black, you racist piece of shitty shit.
When Lil Wayne came to, he was in a world full of nothing; pure white all around him, with seemingly no walls, pits, nothing but the stranded Young Money rapper and a tune in his head, which he sang to himself softly: “Achy Breaky Heart” by Billy Ray Cyrus.
Lil Wayne walked and walked north of where he ended up for about 20 minutes on end, before eventually giving up and laying down on his back.
“Aw shit,” Lil Wayne mused aloud, staring off into the endless landscape of nothingness, “this nigga is whiter than my jury.” He sighed and continued to stare, when suddenly, something began materializing in his vision.
“Dwayne,” a familiar voice suddenly boomed, seeming to come from every direction at once. Lil Wayne jumped to his feet, his eyes going wide.
“Holy shit!” Lil Wayne shouted, “Is that you Biggie? I haven’t hallucinated this hard since I did acid with Nicki.”
“Call me Big Papa,” the voice commanded. “I have called you here to speak about your recent behavior.” Lil Wayne wasn’t sure how, but the whiteness seemed to shake as the voice spoke. The figure before him had materialized by this point and was a fifty foot likeness of the legendary rapper Biggie Smalls, dressed as if he were the Buddha.
Lil Wayne couldn’t believe what he was seeing. This was some dank-ass shit that was happening before him. It was like his vacation to Edinburgh all over again. “Wh-what recent behavior you be speakin’ of, Bigga my nigga?” Lil Wayne asked, puzzled as all of the shit.
“You have become lost, my nigga,” the Biggie voice boomed, “You have forgotten what it truly means to be a hood rat. Money. Bitches. Guns. These are the ideals that you have sworn to uphold, and you have failed. Rod Blagojevich ain’t shit, you need to learn what the game is all about.”
Lil Wayne was speechless; he stared at Biggie for long moments before finally finding the balls to speak. “But I love Rod and he loves me! We’re perfect fo’ each other! Like two bullets in a clip!”
“You will see the error of your ways, Dwayne!” Biggie boomed, cutting Lil Wayne off, “I will send you through worlds, and if you ever want to return to your world, you will have to collect the Relics of Tupac and bed the Ho’s of Destiny!”
“The fuck?” Lil Wayne said, really not getting any of this. “You sound like you’ve been hogging the bong, Biggie.”
“SILENCE!” Biggie shouted, drowning out all other noise. “If you wish to return home then you will heed my warning. Now go, Lil Wayne, go and beat the pussy up like Emmett Till.”
Lil Wayne prepared to fight back, but before he could he found himself once again falling, falling for miles until he blacked out.
When Lil Wayne came to, he was on a bridge. The smell of fire, smoke and burning ho’s filled his nostrils. Screams could be heard from every direction—it was just like his Tokyo concert. Ask him about it sometime.
He looked around, trying to get his bearings, and quickly saw the source of the problem. A burning pink car was parked on the side of the bridge, with a young blonde crying teenager that looked very familiar to him. It looked exactly like the main character of Lil Wayne’s favorite TV show, Lizzie McGuire.
“Ayy, ‘yo, Liz, my homegirl!” Lil Wayne shouted, and was shocked to see the young woman actually look up. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Was the fictional lead to his favourite children’s TV show really in front of him, and did she cause all of this? Was this what Biggie was talking about when he was talking about other worlds? Fuck, Lil Wayne should have been balls deep in Rod Blagojevich’s boypussy, not standing on a bridge with a sitcom character turned mass murderer.
Scared, confused and overwhelmed, Lizzie ran up to Lil Wayne with tears in her eyes. Lil Wayne noticed that even though she was charred and dirtied, she had the finest-ass rack for a 14-year-old. What he wouldn’t give to plough her like an Alaskan street. “It looks like you fucked up, girl,” Lil Wayne said, shaking his head, “How’d you do this shit?”
“Oh it’s awful!” Lizzie said, trying to stop herself from bawling so hard motherfuckers wanted to fine her. “I was just drivin’ down the bridge, sippin’ from my 40, when suddenly this nigga stopped in front of me and I went straight through his ass. And now people are calling the police and they’re saying that I was swerving!”
“That’s some tough shit,” Lil Wayne said, shaking his head sadly. “Is there anything I can do to help out?”
Lizzie McGuire ceased her crying momentarily to ponder the situation. After a while, she came to a conclusion. “Mister, can you please shoot up all these motherfuckin’ niggalings wit’ ‘yo guns and shit? If you manage to shoot all these niggas, I’ll give you the sickest blowjay ain’t nobody experienced before in their whole lives.”
“Sounds good, my feminigga. I’ll get rid of these snitches for you and you’ll get on my dick like some fine-ass Smarties.” Lil Wayne pulled his .45 free of his waistband and took aim. Before he knew it, twelve niggas dropped dead like Wayne was the plague and the rapper returned to Lizzie with a smile on his face.
“Unf, you sure know how to commit mass murderer, my nigga motherfuckin’ nigga-nigga. Now prepare yourself to get Hoovered.” Lizzie dropped to her knees as Lil Wayne’s pants dropped to the floor, allowing his horse cock to spring up into the air.
“Shitload of fuck!” Lizzie exclaimed, he eyes opening wide, “I didn’t know that I was having Pringles fo’ dinner tonight!” With a smile on her face, Lizzie swallowed Wayne’s mauve avenger, taking all nineteen inches into her mouth.
“Shit ho’,” Wayne said, moaning loudly as Lizzie swallowed him, “It feels like you’re gonna swallow all of me!” And she was, as Lizzie blew the rapper, his entire body began to condense, pushing all of itself into her mouth, pulling the rapper into yet another portal.
And, once again, Lil Wayne found himself falling.