The Setting: Jay-Z’s lavish offices at Def Jam Headquarters in Manhattan. Reclining in his leather chair, Jay throws his S. Dot kicks up on his mahogany desk and lights a Cohiba Cigar with a $100 bill. Suddenly, he hears a knock at the door.
Jay-Z: Holla at ya boy!
The door opens. Pete Wentz walks in, clad in eye liner, a dash of glitter, and a see-through mesh top, that reads “This Ain’t a Tee-Shirt, It’s a Nipple Seen.” Wentz bows before Jay-Z.
Pete Wentz: Greetings sire.
Jay-Z nods at Wentz.
Jay-Z: This is what critics said couldn’t happen.
Pete Wentz: Indeed, they were all too busy believing that you were really with Beyonce.
Jay-Z: I don’t think its meant to be. She loves her work more than she does me.
Pete Wentz: I can take your problems away with a nod and a wave of my hand. Because that’s just the kind of boy that I am.
Jay-Z: I dedicate this to everyone who said we couldn’t make it.
Pete Wentz: Oh we can make it.
Jay-Z: I know some places we can go. Do you wanna’ ride with me?
Pete Wentz: I sing the blues and I swallow them too.
Jay-Z: I’m a writer not a biter.
Pete Wentz: That’s good to hear. Wasn’t it Eazy E who said, ‘quit bitin’ it and shit.
Pete Wentz moves closer. Much closer. He looks longingly into Jay-Z’s eyes.
Pete Wentz: We take sour sips from life’s lush lips.
Jay-Z: Welcome to Hollywood baby.
Ring the Alarm, Indeed.
Jay-Z: Come and get that cash from me. They call me the rain man.
Pete Wentz: I only want to sing you to sleep in your bedroom. We need umbrellas on the inside.
Jay-Z: Act like you want it. You know you hot like fire. You throw that body. I’ll throw them dollars.
Pete Wentz: Come hell or high water…well I’m feeling hot and wet.
Jay-Z: Not till Kingdom Come.
Pete Wentz: But that could take forever.
Jay-Z: Go ahead. Keep goin. I got some nice dresses for you guys over there.
Pete Wentz: Dresses? The band will love it. I’m a size 6? Did you know or just guess?
Jay-Z: Guess who’s back? It’s Hov.
Pete Wentz: Ow..that hurt. I’m a preacher sweating in the pews for my salvation that I’m bringing you.
Jay-Z: Dig a hole, bury yourself.
Pete Wentz: Wait, isn’t it supposed to be the other way around.
Jay-Z: Shut up, Wentz. The rings and things you sing about, bring em out. It’s hard to yell when the barrel’s in your mouth.
Approximately three minutes later (no snuggling), Pete Wentz is at the door, saying his goodbyes.
Pete Wentz: Sean, can I call you Sean now?
Jay-Z: Hov!
Pete Wentz: Ok, Hov. Well, thanks for the memories. Even though they weren’t so great. He tastes like you, but only sweeter.
Jay-Z: Who? I’m sweeter than your sister’s Kool-Aid.
Hip-Hop Is Dead
Wentz opens the door. Standing outside waiting to enter is Kanye West. All three men break into smiles. They live happily ever after. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
