start
to burn. It was a tall climb, but Joe didn’t fear it. Despite being very old,
this tower's staircase was very sturdy. The old iron was nothing if not
strong. At the halfway point Joe looked upwards to see if someone was here,
but he didn’t need to see any signs to know that someone was.
At the
top Joe’s prediction came true. To his displeasure, his thighs ached from the
climb. It had been a while since he had done it and that was coming back to
haunt him. He looked around for a bit and decided to ascend even higher. He
climbed more stairs to the platform that led to the low ledge that he had to
climb to get to the open window near the western clock-face. Sitting here was
Mod. He looked out into the rest of Orangetown, his red hair catching the
breeze. He looked sad. Joe was used to the boy being so animated, but now he
was quiet and still. He seemed to not even notice Joe. His ukulele sat
lifeless in his lap. Joe knocked softly on the brick.
Mod:
“Come in.”
Joe
laughed. It was strange to think of the clock tower as someone’s home, but in
a weird way it was kind of like a second home to him and Mod and Kate.
Joe: “Wow,
you brought that thing back out! You used to always play this to cheer me and
Kate up.”
Mod
smiled and played a whimsical melody that eventually turned into a sound that
Joe was very familiar with, just not on ukulele. Joe started giggling
uncontrollably. He waited for Mod to break in with his lyrics. Mod did not
disappoint.
Mod:
“Gotta keep it classy. Don’t wanna be ashy. Makin’ it rain at the club.
Ladies showin’ a brotha love. It feels good to be a G. Livin’ high like only
me. I show love to my crew. But that I think you knew. Big Mo up in ya ear.
Tellin’ you what you need to hear. I don’t bow down and play like a pranksta’.
Because this G is a certified gansta’!”
Joe
laughed uncontrollably. It had been a while since he heard Mod recite those
lyrics.
Joe:
“Haha, man, I’m surprised you remembered that old rap.”
Mod: “Of
course I do. That was my first real shot at fame. Do you still remember your
part?”
Joe: “No
not really.”
Mod:
“Psshaw, liar. I can tell that you do.”
Mod
started playing the tune again on his ukulele. Joe smiled.
Joe: “I’m
not your average Joe, cuz I’m a real cool bro. I came here to stop the show,
give you peeps that old school flow. I ain’t just a show stopper, I’m also a
body rocker. I don’t stop … believin’ and achievin’ at the next level because
I’m history’s number one rebel! Lil’ Joe is on the mic, and when I spit it’s
always tight. Doin’ it the way that’s right, I’m so cool it’s outta sight!”
Mod and
Joe: “Oooooh! Oooooooh!”
Mod:
“That’s hot fire.”
He
touched Joe’s shirt and made a hissing sound and quickly removed his hand as if
he’d been burned. They both started laughing uncontrollably. Joe’s stomach
and face started hurting after a while from all the laughing.
Joe:
“Stop, stop! I can’t take it anymore! You’re killing me here, man! We can't
ever rap those horrible lyrics again as long as we’re alive on this earth. We
need to make a pact.”
Mod:
“Pact schmact! You do that, I'm good. You know, when I rapped on stage like
that, with you right beside me, it was one of the best moments of my life. I
worked on the lyrics for that song for weeks. I had to get ‘em just right.”
Joe: “I
remember that the whole school loved it, except for the older teachers. We
almost got in trouble for the lyrics, remember?”
Mod:
“Yeah, even though we watered them down like crazy. Stupid teachers never
recognize genius when it’s in front of them.”
Joe was glad
that Mod’s sullen mood had lifted. He wanted Mod to stay in high spirits but
felt that he did need to address the earlier situation. After a lull in the
laughs, Joe found his
to burn. It was a tall climb, but Joe didn’t fear it. Despite being very old,
this tower's staircase was very sturdy. The old iron was nothing if not
strong. At the halfway point Joe looked upwards to see if someone was here,
but he didn’t need to see any signs to know that someone was.
At the
top Joe’s prediction came true. To his displeasure, his thighs ached from the
climb. It had been a while since he had done it and that was coming back to
haunt him. He looked around for a bit and decided to ascend even higher. He
climbed more stairs to the platform that led to the low ledge that he had to
climb to get to the open window near the western clock-face. Sitting here was
Mod. He looked out into the rest of Orangetown, his red hair catching the
breeze. He looked sad. Joe was used to the boy being so animated, but now he
was quiet and still. He seemed to not even notice Joe. His ukulele sat
lifeless in his lap. Joe knocked softly on the brick.
Mod:
“Come in.”
Joe
laughed. It was strange to think of the clock tower as someone’s home, but in
a weird way it was kind of like a second home to him and Mod and Kate.
Joe: “Wow,
you brought that thing back out! You used to always play this to cheer me and
Kate up.”
Mod
smiled and played a whimsical melody that eventually turned into a sound that
Joe was very familiar with, just not on ukulele. Joe started giggling
uncontrollably. He waited for Mod to break in with his lyrics. Mod did not
disappoint.
Mod:
“Gotta keep it classy. Don’t wanna be ashy. Makin’ it rain at the club.
Ladies showin’ a brotha love. It feels good to be a G. Livin’ high like only
me. I show love to my crew. But that I think you knew. Big Mo up in ya ear.
Tellin’ you what you need to hear. I don’t bow down and play like a pranksta’.
Because this G is a certified gansta’!”
Joe
laughed uncontrollably. It had been a while since he heard Mod recite those
lyrics.
Joe:
“Haha, man, I’m surprised you remembered that old rap.”
Mod: “Of
course I do. That was my first real shot at fame. Do you still remember your
part?”
Joe: “No
not really.”
Mod:
“Psshaw, liar. I can tell that you do.”
Mod
started playing the tune again on his ukulele. Joe smiled.
Joe: “I’m
not your average Joe, cuz I’m a real cool bro. I came here to stop the show,
give you peeps that old school flow. I ain’t just a show stopper, I’m also a
body rocker. I don’t stop … believin’ and achievin’ at the next level because
I’m history’s number one rebel! Lil’ Joe is on the mic, and when I spit it’s
always tight. Doin’ it the way that’s right, I’m so cool it’s outta sight!”
Mod and
Joe: “Oooooh! Oooooooh!”
Mod:
“That’s hot fire.”
He
touched Joe’s shirt and made a hissing sound and quickly removed his hand as if
he’d been burned. They both started laughing uncontrollably. Joe’s stomach
and face started hurting after a while from all the laughing.
Joe:
“Stop, stop! I can’t take it anymore! You’re killing me here, man! We can't
ever rap those horrible lyrics again as long as we’re alive on this earth. We
need to make a pact.”
Mod:
“Pact schmact! You do that, I'm good. You know, when I rapped on stage like
that, with you right beside me, it was one of the best moments of my life. I
worked on the lyrics for that song for weeks. I had to get ‘em just right.”
Joe: “I
remember that the whole school loved it, except for the older teachers. We
almost got in trouble for the lyrics, remember?”
Mod:
“Yeah, even though we watered them down like crazy. Stupid teachers never
recognize genius when it’s in front of them.”
Joe was glad
that Mod’s sullen mood had lifted. He wanted Mod to stay in high spirits but
felt that he did need to address the earlier situation. After a lull in the
laughs, Joe found his
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