Work Text:
In Your Face!
by Mike
BigMike48412@yahoo.com
---Comedy Central offices---
Dave Chappelle was sitting in his room, going over his script. Paul Moony was going to get a few more crazy questions from the public. Dave wondered if he could do another 'Rick James' segment.. suddenly, he felt himself glowing. "What the.. ok, no more chronic after work.." He stood up, confused about his current predicament. Everything around him was bright, there were lights coming at him from all sides. The next thing he knew, he was standing on a street in some suburb neighborhood.
It was early morning. Odd, since Dave last remembered that it was late evening, just an hour before the show. He started walking down the sidewalk, then noticed a newspaper on the grass. It had a small caption about the movie 'Seven'. "Hell no, that can't be right.." He looked at the date:
August 15, 1995
"Shit!" Dave shook his head. He looked into his pocket, recalling that he still had the 'Street Hoops' game for Playstation 2. He decided that he better ask somebody some questions about this.. but then again, not too many questions. He wouldn't want to be locked up. He saw a red-headed man wearing glasses, getting the paper off his lawn. "Yo.."
It was George Miller, father to Tommy and Kayleigh. He looked up and saw some black dude walking towards him. He mumbled, "Oh no.. waht's he doing in this uppity neighborhood. Shit! He's gonna rob me, I know it.."
Dave now stood closer to him. "Yo.. umm.. is it really 1995?"
George looked at Dave like he was crazy. "Of course it is.. why wouldn't it be?"
"Really? Wow.. so, no 9-11 shit, no war with Iraq.. okay." He figured he must have stepped into a time portal or something like that. either that, or he accidentally used *real* crack for one of the Tyrone Biggums sketches. "Well, I guess I won't have to worry about being late for my show."
"Your show?" He had no clue what this weird guy meant by 9-11 or the Iraq war. "What, are you a rapper?"
"No." Dave shook his head. "I'm Dave Chappelle.. you know, Chappelle's Show? What did the five fingers say to the face? SLAP!" He slapped Miller on the cheek. "I'm Rick James, bitch!! Ha ha ha ha!"
George stepped back, making a fist. "I thought you said your name was Dave-"
Dave laughed. "It is. I portrayed James in one of my sketches. I also played a crack addict named Tyrone.. oh yeah, and a black president. You'd really get a kick out of Paul Moony. Ohh.. and R. Kelly's 'I Wanna Peee On You'... that shit is da bomb."
"R. Kelly?" George sighed, this man was getting more strange by the second.
Dave shrugged. "Ohh.. sorry, you wouldn't know him yet. You won't even hear about my show for another eight years. But I'm not just an actor, sometimes I help the community and shit. I did this cute skit where I visited a young cancer patient in the hospital.. tell me, you got any kids?"
George said, "Yeah.. a boy and girl. By the way.. I'm George. George Miller. You know, I just got a new videocamera. Maybe I can tape you doing some of those.. umm, sketches. For a price. Like.. $70."
Dave nodded. "Sure, sounds good. Just get some brothers up in here, some uptight yuppies from this 'hood, then it should be good to go."
"Hmm.. I'll think about that. My son is sick today.. maybe you can go cheer him up."
"Sure," Dave said. "I got a game with me. You got a Playstation system?"
"Yeah." George nodded. "Come on, I'll show you in.."
********
Tommy lay in bed under his blankets, drinking orange juice. He was feeling terrible. Not for making a bomb or killing a dog. Or even for beating the crap out of some nobody at the movie theatre. No.. young Tommy had the flu. He looked up and saw his jerkoff dad come in with some black dude he had never seen before.
"Hey, Tommy." George smiled. "This is Dave Chappelle.. he has a show on TV, but nobody's even heard of it yet. He said he has a game." Then he left the room, going alone to the basement for some good beer.
"Really?" Tommy looked at Dave. "What kind of game?"
"Street Hoops." Dave took the game from his coat pocket. "I don't know if I can handle losing to a little guy, but.. hey, it's only a game, right?"
"Right. Ok, I'm first player, you're number two." The boy turned the Playstation on.
Dave put the game in, then they started to play.
They played for a few minutes. The kid was very good at it. Too good, in fact. Too good, that Dave mouth the word "bitch" when Tommy wasn't looking. "Ok, you little.. fine, we'll play for real. Get ready to have your ass kicked."
"We'll see, man." He just laughed at Dave. Nobody had beaten Tommy before.
"Ok.. let's go." within a few minutes of paying, Dave started getting his second wind. He beat the kid mercilessly. "Ha! In your face, Tommy! In your *face*!! What, you think i never did this before, you think i don't have a Playstation? I'm rich. I'm rich, bitch!" He stood up and pointed his finger at him. "In your face!!!"
Tommy glared darkly at him. "That's it, motherfucker.." Nobody beat him. Ever. He always got his way.
However, Dave paid no attention. "Ya can't deny me.. ya can't *deny* me! It's too real for ya, Tommy.. it's too real. In your face.. it's just too REAL!" He made the hoop shot twice, a third time.. again and again. Tommy wasn't getting *any*. "In your face!!" He laughed loudly, sitting back on the bed. "'Children are the future', my ass. You are gettin' whooped! Kid, tell your sister and friends that dreams do come true. Tell 'em that Dave Chappelle came to your house and whooped your monkey ASS.."
Now, that was the last straw. Tommy threw the controller down. Someone should have told Dave that this kid had a temper.. because now the kid was reaching under his blanket.
"What?" Dave saw the kid toss the controller on the floor. "Come on, Tom.. it's only a game." He made another shot. "YES!" He let the controller go, now getting up and pointing at him. "In your *face*!!"
"That's it!" He had his hand tightly around a golf club.. he pulled it out, decking Dave on the head with it.
"Ow! Punk bitch!" He keeled over, holding his head. A videotape fell out of his pocket, which contanined a few of his show's sketches. "Dammit, Tommy, are ya on crack-"
But the kid wasn't done. He was one pissed off 13-year-old, that much was clear. Hell, not even that idiot Evan got him this mad! He whacked at Dave a couple times, then tossed the club aside, now using his feet and fists, stomping on Dave and pummeling him.
Dave wasn't prepared. 'Dammit, this punk is gonna kill me.. little bitch.' He yelled out, "You ought to be a cop, ya damn crack head motherf-"
"Shut up!!" Tommy was getting beyond words, this was rage. He had no idea where it all came from, but it was somewhere between how his dad treated Kayleigh, and how Evan was attracted to his sister. But right now, it was mostly because this asshole beat him on his own Playstation. Nobody did that!
Just then, Kayleigh ran into the room. "Tommy! What are you.. hey, stop!!" She tried to grab him.
It stopped the boy somewhat, but he gave a few more hard stomps to the comedian on the floor.
Dave struggled to get up, now going to the window. "Goddamn!!" He shook his head at Tommy, as he started going out the window. "You bitches are crazy! You crazy!" Then he jumped out, running down the street.
Tommy and his sister watched the stranger go. They had never seen him before. But years later, when they watched the man's show, they would remember this day. Especially when Dave makes a sketch based upon this incident...
----------The End--------------