User blog:MrTyeDye/Fanfiction: Pretty Fly for a White-Haired Guy

Wow. I can't say I expected Pretty Fly for a White-Haired Guy to win that poll, especially not by that decisive of a margin. But if that's what the wiki wants, then that's what the wiki gets. Enjoy!

(As always, all feedback is wholly appreciated.)

Script
''[We enter in the middle of the park. Lincoln and Clyde are playing frisbee. Clyde makes a throw that goes a little bit higher than intended, and Lincoln just barely catches it. Afterwards, Lincoln turns to the camera.]''

Lincoln: The public park's a pretty remarkable thing. It's a pristine little pocket of greenspace, where you're free to run, play and socialize with all the colorful characters who make up our community.

[He prepares to throw the frisbee back to Clyde, when the sound of a thumping subwoofer fills the air, causing him to drop it out of shock.]

Lincoln: [Annoyed] I'm sorry, did I say colorful? I meant obnoxious and inconsiderate.

[The camera cuts to three kids in street clothes with their booming speakers set up on the grass, and then cuts back to Lincoln and Clyde.]

Clyde: Ugh, I can't stand people like that. Let's go find another spot.

Lincoln: Oh, no. I'm not gonna let them force us out. I'm going to march right over there and tell them to turn it down!

Clyde: Lincoln...

Lincoln: Dang it, Clyde, we found this spot and we're going to keep it!

[Lincoln marches over to the music blasters, while Clyde looks at the camera and shrugs.]

Lincoln: [Clears throat] Excuse me...

[The music blasters pay him no heed.]

Lincoln: Excuse me!

[The music blasters, again, do not respond.]

Lincoln: EXCUSE ME!

[One of the music blasters, a scraggly teen in a du-rag and a wifebeater, pauses his music and looks up at Lincoln.]

Du-Rag Kid: 'Ey, bruh. You want somethin'?

Lincoln: Yeah, I want you to turn that music down. It's WAY too loud!

Du-Rag Kid: Aw, c'mon, bruh. Don't you wanna get turnt?

Lincoln: No, I don't want to get "turnt". My friend and I are trying to play frisbee!

Du-Rag Kid: Hmm. Well, maybe this'll change your mind.

''[He turns the music back on, and the sheer volume nearly knocks Lincoln off his feet. An old school hip-hop song with a thumping bass and an 808 drum beat starts playing. Lincoln just scowls at them, but as the song goes on, he notices that he's been tapping his toe involuntarily.]''

Lincoln: Huh... what's going on down there?

Du-Rag Kid: You're feeling the vibe, man! Just embrace it!

[As time progresses, Lincoln's scowl disappears, and the tapping becomes more intense.]

Lincoln: You know what...

[Lincoln's lips curl up into a smile.]

Lincoln: ...this isn't half bad!

[Lincoln starts bouncing in time with the beat, when Clyde approaches him.]

Clyde: Hey, Lincoln, did you tell them to turn it down?

Lincoln: Well, I was, but honestly, I'm kind of digging this!

Clyde: ...oh.

Lincoln: So you wanna get in on it?

Clyde: Honestly, this kind of music isn't really my thing. I'd rather we just find another spot.

Lincoln: Eh, all right.

[The two of them begin to walk away, when the Du-Rag kid calls out to them.]

Du-Rag Kid: Hold up! You, with the white hair, come back!

Lincoln: [Looks over his shoulder] What's up?

Du-Rag Kid: If you thought those beats were tight, you have gotta hear my new mixtape.

Lincoln: Aw, sweet! [Turns to Clyde] You sure you don't wanna join us?

Clyde: [Shakes his head] I think I'm just gonna head home. I'll see you tomorrow.

Lincoln: Suit yourself.

''[Clyde walks away, leaving Lincoln alone with the Du-Rag Kid and his friends. The Du-Rag kid turns up the music and Lincoln starts bumping again.]''

''[Roughly five hours later, around 6:30 p.m., Lincoln arrives home from the park and walks through the front door to see most of his sisters lounging around the living room. Rita, slightly miffed, greets him as he walks in.]''

Rita: Lincoln, where have you been?! You said you'd only be at the park for a couple of hours!

Lincoln: Quit trippin', mama. I got back to the crib in time for dinner, didn't I?

Rita: Well, yes, but- wait, what did you ask me to stop doing?

Lincoln: Trippin'. Actin' a fool. Know what I'm sayin'?

Rita: I... can't say that I do.

Lisa: It appears that Lincoln has, for some inexplicable reason, adopted African-American Vernacular English in his mode of speech.

Rita: Pardon?

Lynn: He's using hip-hop slang, mom.

Rita: Oh. Lincoln, since when do you listen to hip-hop?

Lincoln: Since I met some cats at the park who blew my gangbangin' motherlovin' mind with their fresh mixtape.

Lori: [Massages temples] Please stop talking like that, Lincoln. You're literally giving me a headache.

Lincoln: I can talk however I want, Lori. This is the way we spit in the 'hood.

Lori: [Snickers] Lincoln, we don't live anywhere near the "hood".

Lincoln: Don't have to be. It's in my blood, homegirl.

Rita: Well, whatever the case is, dinner'll be ready soon, so go wash up.

Lincoln: Whateva you say, mama.

''[Lincoln starts up the stairs. After he leaves, Lori groans, prompting Luna to scoot over and place a hand on her shoulder.]''

Luna: Relax, sis. I'm sure this is just a phase. It'll blow over.

Lori: It better.

Leni: Well, I think it's admirable that Lincoln is trying to learn a new language.

Lori: Leni, hip-hop slang isn't a language.

Lisa: Actually, Lori, there are several linguists who would disagree with you. African-American Vernacular, or "Ebonics", is widely recognized as a complex, fully formed variety of American English, similar to the African Creole languages or Jamaican Patois.

[Leni gives Lori a smug smirk, and Lori scowls in response.]

Lori: God, I hate it when you're accidentally right.

[We cut to the schoolyard the following morning; Clyde, Rusty, Liam and Zach are standing outside the school, and Lincoln walks up to greet them.]

Lincoln: What's the haps, homies?

Clyde: ...excuse me?

Lincoln: What's crackin', fam? Whaddit look like, whaddit do?

Rusty: Lincoln, I don't think I understood a single word you just said.

Liam: Yeah, Lincoln, why are you talkin' all funny like that?

Lincoln: I'm not talkin' funny, Liam. I'm talkin' ''street. ''

Clyde: [Turns to Liam] Some stranger at the park played some hip-hop for him yesterday, and he's been obsessed ever since.

Lincoln: Clyde, what I heard yesterday blew my motherlovin' mind. That music was movin' my soul!

Clyde: [Turns back towards Lincoln] And I respect that, but can you please stop talking like a rapper? You're kind of weirding me out.

Lincoln: I can try, Clyde, but once you go ghetto, it's hard to go back.

Clyde: [Deadpan] Lincoln, you have never been within a hundred miles of anything resembling a ghetto.

Lincoln: Whateva.

[The bell rings and the five of them walk inside.]

''[We cut to the Loud House living room, about a week later. Lori is on the couch with Luna and Lynn.]''

Lori: It's been a week and Lincoln still won't stop talking like he came straight out of Compton. It's driving me nuts.

Luna: Chill it, Lori. I'm sure this is just a phase. He'll be back to normal any day now.

''[Lincoln bursts through the front door wearing a backwards cap, gold chains, a basketball jersey and baggy sweatpants. A hip-hop beat can be faintly heard emanating from the headphones around his neck.]''

Lynn: [To Luna] You were saying?

Lori: [Laughs derisively] You've got to be kidding me.

Lincoln: What's up, shawties?

Lynn: Okay, Lincoln, I'm gonna be blunt here; you look absolutely ridiculous.

Lincoln: I look fly, Lynn. Plus, Lori, haven't you been tellin' me that I need to go clothes shopping to "update my look"?

Lori: Yeah, but... but not like this.

Lincoln: Picky, picky, picky. But I think some people will appreciate my new style. Like this little homegirl right here.

''[He looks towards Lola, who happens to be passing through the living room. He takes off one of his gold chains and puts it around her neck.]''

Lola: Ooh, jewelry! Thanks, Linky!

Lincoln: Anytime, sis.

Lynn: Lola, you know that chain isn't real gold, right?

Lola: Don't care.

[Lola walks up the stairs with a big smile on her face.]

Lincoln: Aight, if any of y'all need me, I'll be upstairs bustin' my homework. Peace out!

[Lincoln walks up the stairs, leaving three bemused older sisters behind.]

Luna: "Bustin' my homework"?

Lori: I can't believe he just said that unironically.

''[We cut to later that week; Lincoln is seen lying on the living room couch, listening to music. Lori comes in to talk to him.]''

Lori: Lincoln, have you seen my nail polish?

[Lincoln takes off his headphones and looks up at Lori.]

Lincoln: Lincoln? Who dat?

Lori: Wha... YOU! Your name is Lincoln!

Lincoln: Nahhhh. From now on, y'all gon' call me by my hip-hop name, Linkin Logg.

Lori: [Pinches nose] You cannot possibly be serious.

Lincoln: Oh, I be dead serious.

[Lincoln looks at the camera.]

Lincoln: And by the way, when I say all y'all are gonna call me that, I mean all y'all are gonna call me that.

[ Lincoln Linkin Logg continues to look at the camera.]

Linkin Logg: [Smiles] That's better.

Lori: Fine. Whatever. "Linkin Logg", have you seen my nail polish?

Linkin Logg: It's on the bathroom sink.

Lori: [Begrudgingly] Thank you.

''[We cut to Lisa and Lily's room. Lisa is bent over her chemistry table, carefully mixing liquids within a vial. Suddenly, a hip-hop beat starts booming through the hall, causing Lisa to drop the vial on the floor, where it lands with a crash.]''

Lisa: Oh, for the love of...

[Lisa storms out of the hall and stomps up to Linkin Logg's room.]

Lisa: Lincoln! Turn that down!

[No answer.]

Lisa: I said TURN THAT DOWN, Lincoln!

[Still no answer.]

Lisa: [Groans] Fine. Turn it down, "Linkin Logg".

''[The music gets quieter. Lisa stomps away, grumbling to herself.]''

''[We cut to Lori's room, where all of the sisters are gathered inside. The sound of rap music can be faintly heard outside her door.]''

Lori: We have to do something. I literally can't take any more of this.

Lisa: I concur. I can't get any work done with that infernal racket blasting through the hall.

Luna: Yeah. I mean, if he's gonna blow out his speakers, he should at least blow 'em out with real music.

[Everyone gives Luna a pointed look.]

Luna: What? I'm just saying, I'd rather hear some blues or funky old soul.

Lori: The point is, girls, Lincoln... I'm sorry, "Linkin Logg" needs to be brought back down to earth.

Luan: Yeah, he's getting too "Biggie" for his britches! [Laughs]

Lana: What's the big deal? Sure, he's gotten a little annoying, but he's not hurting anyone.

Lola: Oh, if only that were true.

''[We flashback to Lola in the backyard with her toy car set up in the grass. She hops in and tries to get it started, only to have the front part start bumping up and down like a low rider.]''

Lola: What the-?!

[Linkin Logg walks by.]

Linkin Logg: I pimped your ride. You're welcome.

[End flashback.]

Lola: It took Lana an hour to fix the hydraulics on that thing. And that's not even the worst thing he did; you won't believe what he said to Leni.

[We flashback to Leni taking a walk down the hall, when Linkin Logg stops her midway.]

Linkin Logg: 'Ey yo, Leni, I got a question for you.

Leni: Yes?

[Linkin Logg points at Leni's shoes.]

Linkin Logg: WHAT ARE THOOOOOOSE?!

''[Linkin Logg walks away and Leni, at first, has no visible reaction. Then, one cut later, we see her in a fetal position on the bathroom floor, sobbing. End flashback.]''

[When we cut back to Lori's room, we see Leni curled up in a corner, still weeping.]

Leni: [Sobs] H-he dissed my shoe game...

Lori: So we're all in agreement, then, right? Linkin Logg is out of control and we need to stop him.

Lynn: But how?

Lucy: [Raises her hand] I may have a solution.

[Everyone looks at Lucy.]

Lisa: Oh? And what would that be?

Lucy: At our school, there's a Middle School student who calls himself Jeff'son Davis. He's one of the most knowledgeable hip-hop heads in Royal Woods.

Lisa: ...and?

Lucy: Well, he has a pretty strong distaste for casual hip-hop fans. If you claim to like hip-hop around him, he'll start grilling you on hip-hop trivia, just to see if you know enough to be a "true" fan.

Lisa: That sounds unbelievably obnoxious.

Lucy: It is. But it might be the wake-up call that Linkin Logg needs. If Jeff'son Davis shames him in public, he may stop believing that hip-hop is his... how does he put it... "true callin'".

Lori: It's worth a shot.

''[We cut to the school cafeteria the following day. Clyde is eating lunch with Linkin Logg.]''

Clyde: So... still doing the hip-hop thing, huh, Linkin Logg?

Linkin Logg: You know it.

Clyde: Don't you think it's time to give it a rest already?

Linkin Logg: No way, Clyde. Not after I've built a reputation as the school's flyest ni-

Clyde: Whoa, whoa, whoa! You can't use that word!

Linkin Logg: What, "Nicktoon"?

Clyde: ...never mind.

[Lucy suddenly appears behind them.]

Lucy: May I introduce you to someone?

[Clyde and Linkin Logg both recoil in fright.]

Clyde: Gah! Don't scare me like that!

Lucy: Sorry, Clyde. I just had a question for Linco-... Linkin Logg.

Linkin Logg: What's that?

Lucy: Have you ever heard of Jeff'son Davis?

Linkin Logg: Nah. Can't say that I have.

Lucy: He's the biggest hip-hop fan in the school. I think you and he would be really good friends.

Linkin Logg: Sounds dope. Where is he?

Lucy: Right over there.

''[Lucy points to a table across the cafeteria. At one table is a tall, white Eighth Grader with the beginnings of a goatee on his chin, wearing a muscle tee and gym shorts.]''

Linkin Logg: Aight. Nuff props, Lucy.

[Linkin Logg gets up and starts to walk over to Jeff'son Davis, only to be stopped by Clyde.]

Clyde: Linkin Logg... come on. I miss the old you.

Linkin Logg: I'm sorry, Clyde, but I ain't goin' back. I've found my callin'. I have an identity. A passion. Before that day in the park I was just some comic readin' dopehead with nothin' special 'bout him. Now I'm somebody. I'm Linkin Logg.

[Lucy develops a guilty-looking grimace as she hears Linkin Logg speak.]

Linkin Logg: Now if you 'scuse me, I've got somebody to meet.

[Linkin Logg walks away from the table, leaving Clyde and Lucy behind.]

Lucy: [Under her breath] What have I done?

''[We cut to Jeff'son Davis's table. Linkin Logg walks right up and extends a hand towards him.]''

Linkin Logg: What up, bruh? Heard you call yourself Jeff'son Davis.

Jeff'son Davis: Yeah. What's it to ya?

Linkin Logg: My name's Linkin Logg. I'm stoked to meet another hip-hop head!

Jeff'son Davis: [Narrows his eyes] So you call yourself a hip-hop head?

Linkin Logg: Dang straight, son.

Jeff'son Davis: Name five rappers from the West Coast.

Linkin Logg: Oh, that's easy! Um... uh... Jay-Z?

Jeff'son Davis: East Coast.

Linkin Logg: Ludacris?

Jeff'son Davis: Dirty South.

Linkin Logg: Nelly?

Jeff'son Davis: Midwest.

Linkin Logg: Drake?

Jeff'son Davis: Canada.

Linkin Logg: Um...

[Lincoln starts sweating and clumsily tries to mop it up with his cap.]

Jeff'son Davis: You can't name one, can you?

Linkin Logg: N-no, I can! You just put me on the spot!

Jeff'son Davis: [Laughs] Man, get outta here. You ain't no hip-hop head. I bet you're just one of them wannabes who only listens to Hopsin.

Linkin Logg: Joke's on you! I don't even know who that is!

[Jeff'son Davis laughs again, gets up from his table and starts walking away.]

Jeff'son Davis: Lordy, that's pathetic.

Linkin Logg: [Getting excited] H-hey! Take that back! I am a hip-hop head! I'm more hip-hop than you'll ever be!

[Jeff'son Davis turns back around, giving Lincoln a pointed glare.]

Jeff'son Davis: That's a bold claim, Linkin Logg. Care to prove it?

Linkin Logg: Yeah, I do care! And I'll prove it with... um...

Jeff'son Davis: How 'bout a rap battle? 5:00 tomorrow, at Royal Woods Park, by the duck pond. Be there.

Linkin Logg: You're on!

''[Linkin Logg and Jeff'son Davis part ways. As soon as Linkin Logg's out of earshot, his defiant demeanor completely dissolves.]''

Linkin Logg: Me and my big mouth...

''[We cut to Linkin Logg's room, where Linkin Logg is on Facetime with Ronnie Anne. Ronnie Anne is cackling uncontrollably, while Linkin Logg is just staring at the screen stone-faced.]''

Linkin Logg: Oh, come on, Ronnie Anne. Do I really look that funny?

[Ronnie Anne continues laughing.]

Linkin Logg: How much longer is this gonna take? Because I really need your advice right now.

Ronnie Anne: O-okay... okay... just... gimme a minute...

[After a few deep breaths, Ronnie Anne regains her composure.]

Ronnie Anne: All right, I'm done. What's up?

[A few minutes later...]

Linkin Logg: ...and now I'm supposed to meet up with this guy tomorrow to battle. What do I do?

Ronnie Anne: Hate to say it, Lame-O, but I don't think there's anything you can do. If you no-show the battle, you'll look even worse. You just have to show up, take the L, and wait for the whole thing to blow over.

Linkin Logg: [Hangs his head in defeat] Guess you're right.

[Outside the room, we see Lucy on the other side of the door, listening in on the conversation.]

Lucy: Sigh...

''[We fast forward to the following day, at Royal Woods Park. Linkin Logg and Jeff'son Davis are standing in the field by the duck pond, with a large crowd surrounding them, a tux-clad preteen between them, and an iPhone attached to a pair of speakers by their feet. Jeff'son Davis, who's holding a portable microphone, looks cool as a cucumber, while Linkin Logg is sweating bullets. Tux Kid reaches down and taps the iPhone, and a heavy, bass-laden beat overlaid with a soaring electric guitar starts playing.]''

Tux Kid: EPIC RAP BATTLES OF ROYAL WOOOOOOOOOOOODS!

[Tux Kid points to Jeff'son Davis.]

Tux Kid: JEFF'SON DAVIS!...VERSUS!

[Tux Kid points to Linkin Logg.]

Tux Kid: LINKIN LOOOOOOOOOOOGG! BEGIN!

Jeff'son Davis: [Rapping] I’m taking you to school, Lincoln, back where you belong

The Loud boy’ll be silent by the end of this song

I put the Union in peril every time I come around

This ain’t the Gettysburg Address, Link, you gettin’ dressed down

Yo, you’re the kind of “Logg” that I leave in the toilet

We all know how this’ll end, so I might as well spoil it

Link, you’re whiter than Wonder Bread and greener than a zombie

Once I finish my verse, you’ll be crying home to mommy!

''[Jeff'son Davis shoves the mic into Linkin Logg's hands. Linkin Logg's eyes dart nervously around, and he starts trembling and sweating more.]''

Linkin Logg: Uh... erm....I...

Crowd: CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE!

[Tux Kid shakes his head and taps the iPhone again, causing the music to stop.]

Linkin Logg: Oh, geez...

[Lucy suddenly appears behind him.]

Lucy: I had a feeling this would happen.

Linkin Logg: G-gah! Lucy, what are you doing here?!

Lucy: I followed you here.

Jeff'son Davis: Aww, did Linkin Logg's baby sister come all the way here to cheer him on?

[We hear scattered laughter from the crowd.]

Linkin Logg: Lucy, go home! This is embarrassing enough as it is!

[Lucy doesn't budge.]

Linkin Logg: I said go home, Lucy!

Lucy: Don't call me that.

Linkin Logg: I sa- wait, what?

Lucy: Don't call me Lucy.

''[Lucy takes off one of Lincoln's gold chains and hangs it around her neck. She then ties back her hair, revealing a piercing, fiery glare underneath.]''

Lucy: I'm Lucille Baller.

''[Lucy grabs the mic out of Linkin Logg's hand and shuffles up to Jeff'son Davis. Tux Kid, elated, starts the music up again.]''

Lucille Baller: Why don’t you go away and pick on MCs your own size

Or I’ll be forced to step up and make you posers realize

That I’m the Duchess of Darkness and the Queen of Witchcraft

And now I’ve got you up a creek without a paddle or a raft!

Jeff'son Davis: [Starting to get nervous] Yeah, well-

Lucille Baller: DON’T interrupt me when I’m picking up steam

You puny mortals couldn’t beat me in your wildest dreams

I’ll pierce your juicy little veins with my ice-cold fangs

And leave you drier than a husk because I’m just that deranged

Every time you try to spit, all you do is grunt and gripe

You got the rhythm and the flow of a clogged sewer pipe

You shoulda never picked a fight with either me or Linkin Logg

You think you’re hotter than the chili on my kosher hot dog

But you just don’t cut the mustard, so Imma call you a busta

With all the force I can muster, until I’m leaving you flustered

Because I'm L, U, C, I, double-L, E

And schooling wannabes like you is my eternal destiny!

''[Lucille Baller drops the mic. Linkin Logg and Jeff'son Davis take a moment to stare at her in total awe, before Linkin Logg, imbued with a new feeling of confidence, picks the mic back up.]''

Linkin Logg: [Rapping] How's it feel gettin' owned by my gothic little sister?

'Cause you're turnin' beet red; I think you mighta wanna kiss her!

[Jeff'son Davis blushes furiously as the crowd laughs; he glares daggers at Linkin Logg and swipes the mic away from him.]

Jeff'son Davis: [Rapping] Yo, it's sweet that your sister came to throw you a bone

But it's a shame you weren't good enough to take me alone!

[Linkin Logg takes the mic back.]

Linkin Logg: [Rapping] All right, back up, Jeff, I can see what you're doin',

But me and Baller are a team; you can't break up this union!

[Linkin Logg and Lucille Baller walk closer to Jeff'son Davis, passing the mic back and forth as they advance.]

Linkin Logg: I'm flankin' you from the left...

Lucille Ball: And I've got you from the right!

Linkin Logg: So pack your bags...

Lucille Ball: Hit the road...

Linkin Logg and Lucille Ball: And secede from the fight!

Jeff'son Davis: [Stuttering] Um...ah...I-I-

[Jeff'son Davis grabs the mic and turns toward Lucille Baller.]

Jeff'son Davis: [Rapping] Yo, you think you're hot stuff, but you're just a little girl

Why don't you run along home and play with your... dolls?

[Everyone in the crowd starts booing him.]

Random Voice from the Crowd: That's misogynistic!

Tux Kid: All right, all right. I'm gonna put a stop to this before it gets any sadder. The winners are... LINKIN LOGG AND LUCILLE BALLER!

''[The crowd erupts into cheers as Linkin Logg and Lucille Baller pose back-to-back with their arms crossed, assuming the B-boy stance. Jeff'son Davis just slumps away in defeat. After a moment, the two Louds stop posing and embrace.]''

Linkin Logg: Luce, that was amazing! Where did you learn to spit like that?!

Lucille Baller: Hip-hop's just poetry, Linkin Logg. If there's anything I know, it's poetry.

Linkin Logg: ...huh. Never thought of it that way.

[Suddenly, the du-rag kid from the beginning pushes his way to the front of the crowd.]

Du-Rag Kid: Bruh, that was catastrophic! You two were spittin' straight fire!

Linkin Logg: Aw, thanks! [To Lucille Baller] This is my friend Devon. He's the one who got me addicted to hip-hop!

Lucille Baller: Charmed. [Shakes Devon's hand]

Devon: Yo, next week I'm gonna start recordin' a new mixtape. You two have gotta stop by and record a guest verse!

Lucille Baller: Thanks, but no thanks. I don't like hearing my voice on tape. Little recorder-shy.

Devon: Eh, that's aight. What about you, Linkin Logg?

Linkin Logg: Sorry, Devon, but I'm gonna have to decline too. I really don't think this hip-hop life is for me. All the disses and feuds and rap battling... it's just too much pressure.

[Devon loses his smile.]

Devon: Oh. You don't like hip-hop no more?

Linkin Logg: No, I still like hip-hop, and I can't thank you enough for introducing it to me. I just don't know if I want to be Linkin Logg anymore. I think I'm ready to go back to being plain ol' Lincoln.

[Lincoln takes off his remaining gold chains and gives them to Devon, who regains his smile.]

Devon: Well, all right then. But whenever you feel ready to dive back in, just give me a holla!

Lincoln: Will do!

''[We cut to Lincoln and Lucy walking home. Lucy's hair is untied, and her bangs are covering her eyes again.]''

Lucy: I'm glad you decided to change back. I don't know if you noticed, but the other girls really missed the old you.

Lincoln: Yeah, sorry for driving you all nuts for the past few weeks. I just really felt like I found my calling as a hip-hop enthusiast, and I guess I got carried away.

Lucy: It's okay, Lincoln. I know you've been having some trouble finding your purpose. But I'll tell you this; no matter what you end up doing...

[Lucy puts an arm around Lincoln and pulls him close.]

Lucy: ...you'll still be my flyest homeboy.

Lincoln: Aw, Lucy...

[Lucy and Lincoln walk up to the house, and as they approach the door, Luan suddenly appears in front of the camera.]

Luan: I guess that just about raps it up! [Laughs]

[Beat]

Luan: Oh, come on! I had to get that one in at least once!

THA END, BEYOTCH