EXT. THE ARABIAN DESERT-DAY

BUSTA RHYMES and jovial sidekick, SPLIFF STARR, stroll through a barren wasteland: famished, high and disoriented.

Busta:Where are we, Spliff?

Spliff Starr: Yemen.

Busta Rhymes: Don’t yeah man, me…I pay you for two things: carrying drugs and geographic know-how.

Spliff Starr: No, Yemen. It’s nearly 600,000 square kilometers, approximately the size of Thailand. It’s chief exports are oil, coffee, fish….

Busta Rhymes: (pointing)  Put your eyes where my hands can see.

Spliff Star: It’s a bird…it’s a plane.

Busta Rhymes: It’s an Arab!

Busta & Spliff Starr (together): With money!

Greek Chorus Consisting of  RICK ROSS, JIM JONES, AKON, DJ KHALED, SOULJA BOY, PUFFY and RON BROWZ. 

Woe and peril are the fate of the man forced to confront the burden of getting Arab Money. We getting Arab Money.

Shaking them off, Busta and Spliff hold hands and frolic gleefully towards the palace.

The Scarecrow Obviously Being the Weed Carrier

INT. THE ARABIAN PALACE-TIME CEASES TO HAVE ALL MEANING

Gone are Busta and Spliff’s threadbare hoodies, in their stead are magnificent garments made from the finest tailors in Aden.

Busta: Look at us, Spliff Star and Busa Bus, dressing the craziest, like an Arabiest.

Spliff: Does this mean Dre is taking our calls again?

Busta: No, it’s Middle East women and Middle East bread.

Spliff: Pita?

Busta: (ignoring Spliff’s response, fingering his new duds). Does this vest make me look fat?

Spliff:  You look beautiful. But tell me if the sunglasses inside are too much?

They approach an Arab gentleman perched on a throne, surrounded by beautiful women. He extends his arms.

Arab Moneyed: Ah, Spliff Star and Busta Rhymes, I have been expecting you. Can I offer you a flute of champagne, an orange, an odalisque.

Touch It-Bring It-Pay It-Watch It-Turn It-Leave It

Busta: Whoo-hah, you got’s it all in check.

Spliff: Thank you sir and may I say, your hair looks magnificent.What hair gel do you use.

Arab Moneyed: Bedouin Head.

Greek Chorus of Rick Ross, Jim Jones, Akon, DJ Khaled, Soulja Boy, Puffy and Ron Browz: Only at the golf course, can the secret of Arab Money begin to to be revealed.

Shrugging his shoulders, a melancholy Rick Ross leaves the Greek Chorus and addresses the crowd, holding a skull.

Rick Ross:  Great shame has been brought to the house of Ross.  No longer is he the biggest boss, he has seen thus far. Ross has been eclipsed. Ross is speeding no longer.

Ross looks gravely at the platinum chain of his own face that dangles around his neck.

Ross: Here hung those lips that Ross has kissed I know not how oft.

Seeing Ross disconsolate, Akon sidles up beside him.

Akon: Hang in there Rick Ross, you’ve sold millions of records, you’re beloved the world over by high school basketball coaches, the Florida Penal Community, and irony-loving bloggers from Texas to Tanzania.

Ross: But Ross pushes, he pushes.

Akon: You don’t know that he’s a bigger boss than you. You have no smoking gun.

Ross: Ross does not like your choice of verbiage.

Greek Chorus of only DJ Khaled: Greek chorus taking over. We the best.

Skull Gang! Santana!

INT. YEMENI PALACE-SUPPERTIME

Busta yawns and taps on the shoulder of his new associate.

Busta: Take me to a 7-star hotel! Busta Rhymes has Arab Money and Busta Rhymes intends to spend Arab money.

Arab Moneyed: Your wish is my command. Treat me like a genie, whatever your most stereotypical desires are, I shall obey.

Magically, they are transported to a lavish casino in Dubai.

Arab Moneyed: How would you like to play pinochle with the ghost of the great Muhamed Ali.

Spliff Starr: Just because a motherfucker got Parkinson’s don’t mean he dead.

Arab Moneyed: No, you don’t understand. I meant the other Muhammad Ali, the late-Pasha of Egypt.

Spliff and Busta stare quizically.

Arab Moneyed: Then the ghost of Yassir Arafat it is. But watch out he cheats.

Greek Chorus of Jim Jones waving dollar bills at the camera with a pelt on his back: SABLE! GET FURRY!

DipSquirrel: The Latest Hare-Brained Scheme

EXT. CROWD SHOT

Busta Rhymes and Spliff Star cavort triumphantly, watching a crowd of Middle Easterners affirm their love of petrodollars and the rappers who love them.

Spliff Starr:  The people adore us again. It had been so lonely since “Pass the Coirvoisier.” Who needs Andre anyhow?

Busta Rhymes: They respect me in Maui, Malaysia, Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Iran.

Spliff Star: Less than one percent of the island of Maui is Arab.

Busta Rhymes: But they know that we get money.

Spliff Starr & Busta Rhymes (together): We getting Arab money!

They hug. Spliff Starr sheds a single tear of joy.

Busta Rhymes: And you said I’d have to start wearing dresses again.

Greek Chorus (all): Antío sas! Antío sas! Antío sas!