"Beatlemania"

Beatlemania II

Beatlemania II

the ongoing misadventures of Roger and Egbert

"Man, mothafaucker where is I?" Roger asks.

"You are in the psyche ward," Egbert explains. "You kept calling the doctor Zamfir..."

"Zamfir? What's wrong with that?" a deep voice to the other side of Roger's bed asks. It is Jerome the security guard that pummeled Roger and put him in the hospital.

"Whaaa...what is he doin' here? Get me my squirt gat!" Roger orders Egbert.

"I can't it got squashed with you, remember? He called the doctor Zamfir master of the skin-flute. The good doctor was very offended," Egbert explains.

"Give me that button controller thang to call the nurse. I gonna get h-o-s-p-i-t-a-l security to squash dis big oaf like a bug. Turnabout be fair play big chilly hom..." Roger is cut off by Egbert who puts his hand over his mouth.

"Don't call him that! They disabled your button. After you peeved off the good doctor he gave you a tranquilizer shot. Only it did not affect you. The good doctor said it was on count of your tiny brain and mental deficiencies. You just got super giddy. Kept calling nurses in and held up numbers you scribbled on napkins like you was judging their looks. He gave you another shot that did knock you out and sent you up here after you patted the last nurse, his wife on the butt cheeks and said if she wore shorter skirts she'd get better tips," Egbert explains.

"Nah," Roger says. "Dats killa. Hey I was just gonna say Homie not homo. I need a big homie in my crew. I could use dat muscle. Do's me a favor. Get my ass outs of here."

Jerome thinks on it a minute. Maybe he does owe him for squashing him like he did, but maybe again he did him a favor. This boy could use a good evaluation. All that thinking he is an urban Afro-American and he has never seen over the cornfields of Nebraska. "Maybe I owe you, and maybe I can get you out of here, but little man I think you need this place."

"Brotha huge man I can'ts stay in here. I is a Scientologist. Psychiaology be againsts my beliefs," Roger insists.

"Huh," Jerome looks to Egbert confused.

"While psychiatry is against the beliefs of Tom Cruz and the other followers of L. Ron Hubbard, Roger is no Scientologist," Egbert explains.

"I shit yawl not, I am. You's don'ts knows fa-buttmuncha's I read da books Diafanetics at my aunts last year. So, now I is a member yo," Roger insists.

"Well if it's against his religion and all. I did wrestle with an orderly here. I saw him on my way in. He would probably help if we gave him something," Jerome says.

"Here gives him dis," Roger says reaching over to the pocket in his blue satin jacket with yellow embroidery on the back which reads, Ace Lover. He pulls out a cd. "What?" he questions after looking back at Jerome, who is smirking when he sees what is written on the jacket. "Don't laugh pudding-pusher! Dat was my pops jacket! He is roller-derby champs three year running 1982-83-85. Mvp's of his team yawls."

"What's that?" Jerome asks.

"It's his mix tape," Egbert answers. "It's not bad. He gives them out as Christmas gifts. I have one. You should listen."

"Shut up Egbert! It's not for him. It's to bribe dat orderly he knows so I can get outs of here. Besides it my last one."

To Jerome's surprise the orderly agrees to risk his job in exchange for the mix tape. He says he hates his job anyway. The rest of the staff talk to him as if he is stupid. Also, he DJ's on the side and likes checking out other people's work out.