What you are about to read is the transcript of that very night, join with me now these things!
"Hello Mr T, I am Jean Francois. I have a few questions for you if you don't mind?". "Do you know me? Of course you do. 'Cause I'm famous!" He bellowed as he landed perfectly on my pillow and cuddled into my neck. Mr T looked up at me sternly, "I'm teaching fools some basic rules" he said. "It's like my mother says: I have a gift of the words. Maybe I'm charming. But it is a gift. I have seven brothers, and they're introverts. I'm an extrovert. I love people". Yes Mr T of course, but what brings you to my bedroom tonight my friend and why are you riding a tiny flying ruler? "I made a little money. And like the Bible says, I was enjoying the fruits of my labor. This is my comeback. This is me doing what I love to do!"
As Mr T took off his Jean shorts I rolled over onto my elbow and asked what it was like being a gay man in the 80's in Hollywood: "I am the best bodyguard, because I'll take a bullet, I'll take a stab wound, I'll take a hit upside the head; I'm like a Kamikaze pilot; The President got shot because his men relaxed!"
Funny you should mention being a bodyguard Mr T, did you ever have to fight like a man? "See, if I come into a black neighborhood and say, "Thanks for watching my show," and give out high fives and all that, I'm not doing no good. I go out and see a kid grabbing his crotch. Ain't nobody telling them that. Where do they get it from? They watch MTV. I say, "If you wash up more often, you won't have to grab your crotch." I'm telling these guys, "Why you gotta grab your crotch?" Then you see Michael Jackson grabbing his crotch 50 times. What's with him?"
Hahaha yes Mr T you are right on the money...what is with that asshole? The children Mr T, tell me about the children: "I want Balboa! I want Balboa! You hear that, Old Man? You tell Balboa I'm comin' to him! Nobody can beat me! You tell him what I said! And he's NEXT! I'm gonna kill him! Nobody can stop me! You tell Balboa that! I'M COMING AFTER HIM! YOU TELL HIM!"
I think everyone has their own Balboa Mr T, mine is a annoying paper boy named David. I've seen you on the TV a lot lately in commercials and things which leads me to ask, what is in the future for the T? "For 5 years Mr. T disappeared. Fools went unpitied and Jibba-Jabba went unchallenged!"
Can you tell me the first thing that comes to your mind when I say these words:
Candy: "Hey, you with the teeth!"
Hoola Hoops: "My lunch cost $35!"
Sports cars: "Where's the meat!"
Lemonade: "Hey woman!"
The internet: "I'm tired of your crazy rap!"
It was at that point Mr T straddled his ruler, "I got no time for the jibba-jabba!" He waved to Jean Francois, his tiny cock and balls shrunken from the chilly winter air.
*Sigh* was it a dream and that's all about it? Or will Mr T fly in through my window again one wishful night? Maybe he left his jean shorts behind on purpose, to one day return. They remain hanging in my closet my tiny flying friend.
I am
