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If "The Matrix: Reloaded" were a gangsta rap video

Reloaded spoilers

This is the follow-up to The Matrix:ReSeussed.

No One Can Tell You (What The Chronic Is)

by Tom

(If The Matrix: Reloaded were a gangsta rap video)

[Music: Fade in background music, distant gunshots, distant sirens. Cross fade to sounds of glasses clinking and women moaning.]

[Visual: The camera pans across the park where, in Reloaded, Neo meets with the Oracle and then fights Agent Smith. A group of Fly Girls are standing up against the walls, waiting.]

Morpheus (speaking, as voice-over): No one can tell you what the chronic is, you have to smoke it for yourself.

[Music: A rap beat begins.]

[Visual: Neo drives up in a tricked-out black convertible, which is visibly shaking from its massive stereo system pounding out the beat. Neo steps out, leans back against the car, takes a final drag on his blunt and tosses it on the ground.]

Neo (rapping):

Yo, Cypher was a zero but I'm the One.
I'm the reloaded hero with the big black gun.
I was born in the Matrix, y'all, back in the hood
but I took the red pill and it went down good
with an Absolut chaser and a twist o' lime.
In the desert of the real I'm a bust a rhyme.

I can walk a tightrope after drinkin' a fifth,
stop a bullet in the air, slap Agent Smith
straight down to the floor, plumb through to the cella,
and I'm mackin' every tasty little Zion cave dwella.
Blowin' into your town like a pimp typhoon,
stirrin' coffee with my mind 'cause there ain't no spoon.

[Visual: the Fly Girls step away from the wall and start a slow, undulating dance.]

Fly Girls (singing):

No one can tell you what the chronic is,
you have to smoke it for yourself. Ooooh-ooo-ooooh.
No one can tell you what the chronic is,
you have to smoke it for yourself.

Neo (rapping):

I'm the N to the E-O, a man of means,
mad kung fu skillz to submarine the machines,
now I'm takin' my game to the digitized streets
where the sucka AI's know I can't be beat.
Not afraid of algorithms or electronics --
I trump the chumps 'cause I've got the chronic.
I'm high on the red pill, down with the truth,
if I got to jack out, I got a telephone booth.
I'm the O-N-E and my story's allegorical,
y'all watch me now while I kick it with the Oracle.

[Visual: the Fly Girls' dancing becomes more aggressive and acrobatic.]

Fly Girls (singing):

No one can tell you what the chronic is,
you have to smoke it for yourself. Ooooh-ooo-oooh.
No one can tell you what the chronic is,
you have to smoke it for yourself.

[Visual: Neo approaches the Oracle. Unlike in the movie, here the Oracle's avatar is a gorgeous young Black woman. She wears a neon pink bikini and lounges in a hot tub. A bottle of champagne sits beside her, and she takes a sip from her glass. She slides out of the hot tub to sit on the edge with her legs dangling in the water. The camera zooms in briefly on water droplets running down her body, then zooms back out.]

Oracle (rapping):

I'm gonna lay the funky rhymes down verse by verse
I predict the last word before I've heard the first.
Put your hands in the air for my Oracle style
'cause I'm from the old school like an ASCII text file.

Neo, you a playa, you the pimp of the Matrix.
Your girl's fine, dressin' like a dominatrix --
haxor skillz and stiletto heels,
give Trinity props, you know she keepin' it real.

Now have a seat Neo 'cause I know you will later.
Cozy up to me, don't be no Oracle-hater.
We both got the munchies so eat this candy.
I knew before I bought it, it would come in handy.

You ask, "Oracle, Oracle, on the wall,
how can I sit back while my shorty takes the fall?
And all the king's softwarez, and all the king's men
can't bring my baby online again."
But Neo you're fakin' like a masquerade,
'cause that's one choice you know you already made.
You came to hear the "why," and I'll tell you for free:
You need a little old guy, looks like a burned-out Bruce Lee
to hit you with the key that will get you through the door.
And once you're in there, yeah you can rock it hard core.
Go see the Merovingian is what I say,
Now my next party's startin' so I'm on my way.

[Visual: a stretch limo pulls up, with Seraph behind the wheel. The Oracle slips into a fancy silk bathrobe, puts on her high heels, and gets into the limo, which drives away.]

Fly Girls (singing):

No one can tell you what the chronic is,
You have to smoke it for yourself. Ooooh-ooo-oooooh.
No one can tell you what the chronic is,
You have to smoke it for yourself.

[Visual: Agent Smith walks up to Neo. He straightens his tie and begins to rap. As he raps, other copies of Smith take up positions all around him.]

Agent Smith (rapping):

Y'all AI-hataz think you bringin' some game?
There's a hundred in my crew, and we all the same.
When one catch a slug, the rest never complain,
and we spreadin' like a virus all through the mainframe.

Often imitated, I'm crazy replicated,
the Smith on my left was some bitch I once dated.
It's gettin' complicated but I'm tellin' you true:
don't go runnin' to your mama 'cause now she's a Smith, too.

If I catch you with my code, I'll load you up with me,
And then you'll be the S to the M-I-T
to the H, that's Smith, there's an endless supply,
so come step to the beat of the gangsta AI.

[Visual: Neo and all the Agent Smiths fight in the "burly brawl" scene. Neo flies away. The Smiths walk away. Only the Fly Girls remain. The picture becomes pixilated, fades to black, then the camera pulls back, revealing that the black background was the iris of the left eye of the lead Fly girl, as if perhaps the entire scene has been only an idea in her mind. She sits on the ground, her back to the wall. She runs her fingers through her hair and stares into the camera.]

Lead Fly Girl (singing solo):

No one can tell me what the chronic is,
I have to smoke it for myself.
Ooooooh-oooo-ooooooh, yeah-yeah.

[Fade out.]

(First published at http://matrixessays.blogspot.com
This article may be freely reproduced if it is unchanged and this notice is included.)
posted by Xaq Rothman at 08:17     


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