Michael Jackson is driving his car. his car is a LONG black KITT-from-Knight Rider limousine shiny with gobs of turtle wax dripping off the 70-platinum rims. the front passenger seat is empty save for its leather and two giant speakers. in the backseat on the left is Paul McCartney. on the right is an old gaudy Victrola gold-tin-plated phonograph with a sorceress's needle spinning Michael Jackson's album Thriller. the music plays eternally in the backseat and filters out into the world through the open tinted limo windows. the two are driving along a very straight very narrow treeline avenue with orange red and yellow leaves buffeting either side. the limo can only drive along this autumn corridor.
the two men are smiling jovially as they gaggle without looking at each other.
Michael Jackson: "The Girl Is Mine," that was a great track to record with you, Sir Paul. i enjoy laughing with you. your laugh is weirder than mine.
Paul McCartney: did you like my ad-libbing at the end? when i go off-script and start doing my patented half-saying/half-singing thing.
Michael: you know that fun patter between the two of us at the end of that song, that was revolutionary for its time. never been done before. this duet will bring about racial equality in the world.
Paul: you really think one song has all that power, Mike?
Michael: yeah man. racial harmony, think about it. i'm bigger than even you. i'm bigger than Jesus right now as it is 1982.
Paul: on that count i have to begrudgingly agree.
Michael: oh and by the way, in that song i wasn't calling all girls dogs...
Paul looks over the Thriller dustjacket and inhales all of its dust.
Paul: i gotta admit, Mike, this longplay record is a masterpiece. i mean these cuts are LEGENDARY. "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'," that gets my blood pumping in the morning when i do my morning yoga. the Hindu yoga, the real stuff, not the Hollywood yoga.
Michael: me, too. i scream in the morning.
Paul: Michael, there is no way YOU exercise. i mean look at you.
Vanilla Ice: omg this was the first mention of the word "tenderoni" in any meaningful way in art. you've inspired me ever since, Sir Mike.
Michael: call me Sir Jack. Vanilla Ice? that's a goofy name.
Paul: are you kidding me with this B-Side? i mean this is simply THE GREATEST B-SIDE OF ALL TIME. three in a row, you go from "Beat It," to "Billie Jean" to "Human Nature"? i mean COME ON!!!
Michael: it's so funny when the album wasn't out yet and all the reporters had to go on for this secret project of mine was "The Girl Is Mine," everyone thought Thriller would be a flop cos they thought our song was corny as fuck. they thought the whole album was some penny-farthing Vaudeville show act. little did they known the immensity and enormity and deep feeling of the sonorous songs that awaited them...
Paul: what's up with that one Rolling Stone reviewer? everyone else in the world gave you 5 stars and an A, except one who gave you 4 stars. Thriller 4 out of 5 stars, are you fucking taking the piss? Rolling Stone are fartnuggets.
Paul: where are we going? where are you taking me? where are you kidnapping me to?
Michael: oh i thought we'd just take a spin around the block. maybe hit an arcade. record and ride a mud track. Tiny Formula 1 is starting up there. at Sherman Oaks Magic Castle.
Paul: a castle you own? a castle you just recently purchased?...
Michael: go to a car wash on the way back, this thing is FILTHY. needs a scrub. i like to ride the car-wash conveyor belt just me without the car. and then we'd end our date on the roof of the limo smoking our candy cigarettes and shooting the breeze. for a nightcap, let's go to a monastery and turn all the holy water into gas.
Paul: i drank holy water once, yeah, with the Queen. i thought it tasted like piss. she thought it tasted like Dubonnet.
trussing needle: trusting needle.
Mardith: yeah i use these in my work, gotta trust that the needle won't go too far in when you're getting tied up. pain but more pleasure...
fat bloom: also known as aero chocolate, you know that chocolate with those bubbles inside?.........chocolate can't get rancid...
California Superbloom: ...
esquite: corn snack.........corn-niblets snack...
Walt Disney, Steven Spielberg, and George Lucas: the greatest movie premieres are in the last week in May...
empty net: when hockey players turn into pool players...
Edwina Currie at a corner circus seance: did the Warriors win? i was right about the eggs. i only eat colored eggs. at Easter.
Morris Traveller: the car for British mad scientists only...
Rachel Cargle: that's cellist, not jealous. i had too much radical joy for my partner...
Ernest Hemingway: ocean sunfish? i killed the first one in nature, i speared the fuck out of that deformed dinosaur wannabe, had it for tuna...
fropa: when Jen Carfagno wears that red dress...
Jen Carfagno: wanna see my fropa?...
Essex Mud Race: the only way is tough-muddering...
pump track: "Justify My Love" sung by Madonna in a BMX helmet...
Doyle Brunson at a green-felt poker table inside Sherman Oaks Magic Castle: see what happens when you stay quiet?...
Macaulay Culkin approaches the limo aggressive as he puts his hands on the frame so hard his fingerprints rub off onto the paint finish. Macaulay motions with his finger for Michael to lower the tinted window.
Michael: what up Mac?
Vanilla Ice: and cheese. Kraft dinner. beefaroni.
Macaulay: I KNOW WHAT YOU DID. everyone thinks you're this glittery global icon but I KNOW WHO YOU ARE. I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE ABOUT, THE TRUTH WILL OUT. sometimes a painting's not a painting.
Paul: well that wasn't ominous or anything, mate.
Macaulay sticks his head inside the limo like a hungry hen.
Macaulay: who's the old man in the back? what's it say in graffiti on the back of your leather jacket?
Michael: ZESTY.
Macaulay: what are you wearing? what's that sparkly silver glove you're wearing on ONLY ONE HAND?
Michael: oh that's my driving glove.
Paul: at least wear two gloves, Mike mate, you'll slip off the wheel.
Macaulay: what's your pocket square?
Michael: that's not a pocket square, that's a slice of triangular pepperoni arcade pizza.
Macaulay: why do you have a tiny tiger on your knee?...
on the other side of the sidewalk is a bag lady from New Orleans. this bag lady forcefully points directly at Michael Jackson from across the mean street and gives a stern look past Michael's eyes.
bag woman: THIS MAN, Michael Jackson, nobody sees him, he will be GREATLY MISCHARACTERIZED throughout his life. they will gang up on him, it will cost him his life. it will cost him to want to sleep his life off. and the world will PAY for it. the world will be THE POORER for it.
Paul McCartney: hey Mike? step on it. step on the gas pedal and the brake pedal at the same time, let's get out of here. i can't take any more premonitions...
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