When I finally got to Jay’s house – actually, mansion might be more appropriate – everybody else was already there. Luke, Colin, and Jay were all sitting on the sofa, paying no mind to the chandelier that hung above them – I could only assume that they had already had plenty of time to gawk at it. Mike came out from the bathroom, the toilet flushing behind him, and walked past me as I slid my shoes off my feet.
“Hey Nick, only 15 minutes late this week huh? Esin help you tie your shoes this time or what,” Luke jested from his sprawled-out position on the couch. He slid his phone shut loudly, having just finished writing a text, then leaned forward and plopped it onto the coffee table.
“Yeah, man. It was so much quicker that I had time to stop and say hi to your sister. Turns out she was still passed out on your bed, though.” I snickered on the inside at my response. Luke and I could’ve kept going, for at least a couple more stabs, but Jay interjected with a comment of his own.
“Alright, alright, now I know you gotta razz him, but we gotta hurry this thing up, Becca’s waiting for me at the mall.” Luke slid his vibrating phone open, exposing the keyboard, and began shaking his head. His mouth barely opened when Mike intervened with his own excuse.
“Yeah, no, he’s right. I’m raiding tonight so I gotta be out of here by seven at the latest.” Luke’s mouth closed, but we could all imagine what he was thinking. Luckily, he was preoccupied with texting, and this gave Colin a chance to shine.
“Jesus, and I thought I was gay!” Colin said, looking at Mike disapprovingly. Jay let out a light chuckle, and quietly said “yeah,” more to himself than to anyone else.
“Man, whatever,” Mike said impatiently, “let’s just go get this over with.” He began moving toward a door that was slightly ajar, and the rest of us followed. Luke brought up the rear, shutting his phone and sliding it into his pocket right before entering the room.
Jay went first, followed by Colin and then Mike. They all had some pretty good jabs, but nothing too memorable. Jay’s style was quick and witty, while Colin and Mike were both still fairly new, so they would fumble a bit and at times, I thought they wouldn’t even be able to finish. They both did, of course, but were nearly out of breath by the end.
Luke went fourth, and his wounds were the deepest. When Luke struck out at someone, he went for their very core and spared absolutely no expense. He had been known to make grown men cry in the past, but tonight was not one of those nights. He did have a pretty strong finish, though, his last four lines being:
“Jay, and Mike, and screw it, you too Nick,
Can all have a taste of my little tiny dick.
And Colin, don’t think that I forgot about you,
Your chest is the reason I’ve hoarded all this poo.”
He followed the last word with an impressively well-timed fart, the kind that makes you second-guess whether you should have had Mexican for lunch.
I was up next, and I always got nervous right before I delivered my lines, no matter how many times I did it. For the most part, I had them already planned out in my head, but when it came to actually saying them aloud, they would inevitably get jumbled, and one or two lines would get mixed up, and then it would turn into a real freestyle.
I took my place in the middle of the room, the other four spread in a half-circle around me. We took a quick recess to let the room air out after Luke filled it with his gaseous waste, which I was oddly thankful for because it gave me some additional time to prepare. But now, it was time. I took a deep breath, and then got right into it.
“Let me start with Colin, by callin’ him a faggot.
You can take my food, and go ahead and bag it.
Cause Art Education? We know what that means;
Ya might as well apply and try to sell some coffee beans.
And Mike, let’s be honest, your sex is like a comet,
It’s quick and rare and often paired with diff’rent colored vomit.
And Jay, don’t you laugh at them, you’re next up on my list,
Your face is odd, you suck at CoD, I think you get the jist.
And last and least’s the beastly chief
Whose freestyle raps sound worse than queefs.
Your breath’s like death, and Crest can’t wrest
That unspent scent despite its best.
So listen up, you glistened pups,
Your dissin’ sucks, like you piss in cups.
So I’ll leave you, with a short review:
Your lines are crap, goodbye and screw you.”
If I had a microphone, that would have been the point at which I dropped out and the crowd went wild. People would have been cheering my name, and I would have just looked my opponent in the eye, unblinking and unflinching, like an invincible juggernaut. Unfortunately, I did not have a microphone, so I did the next best thing. I threw my hands into the air, facing the others, and yelled, “BOOOOOM!”