Ben and Alex visit The United States of America/Connecticut

Connect I cut

TRANSCRIPT

{Ben and Alex touch down in kind of generic Stamford, Connecticut JR Airport}

BEN: Dude it's 2AM back home I'm jet lagged to fuck

ALEX: Jet legged? My leg isn't a jet

BEN: What even is connecticut it seems like a useless state

ALEX: Hahahaha my leg is an airplane

BEN: You just said it wasn't

ALEX: VRRROOOOOM it's like a jet fighter. because we're in american SO MANY FUCKEN JETS

BEN: YEAH BITCH JETS

{Two hour montage of Chinese footage of American jet fighters flying around, bombing the jungles of vietnam and the deserts of iraq, all set to "i'll do anything for love" by meatloaf on a constant loop. ben and alex are now in the hotel}

ALEX: really though what is there here?

BEN: Schools. Vince McMahon. A naval base.

ALEX:' A naval base? It seems so obvious, Ben, we gotta join the navy!

BEN: Join the Navy, you say?

ALEX: Indeed, my good fellow!

{Broadway Theatre Music begins to play, as Alex steps forward.}

ALEX: There's.. um... um..

BEN: There's what, Alex?

ALEX: Shh, Ben. I'm trying to think of a song to sing!

BEN: A song, you say?

ALEX: Yes, a song, Ben. You know, like a Broadway musical?

BEN: Ohhh. Okay.

ALEX: Umm.. oh damn it, I can't think of anything.

{Ben pushes Alex out of the way and takes center stage.}

BEN: Let me try this, with a classic song!

{Ben rips his clothes off to reveal a Navy uniform. He then rips Alex's clothes off too, to reveal that he's wearing a stereotypically sexy yet rather sexist Navy costume.}

ALEX: What the fu-..

BEN: {Singing}
Together, We will go our way!
Together, We will leave someday
Together, Your hand in my hand
Together, We will make the plans

{The airport scene behind them literally falls apart to reveal that they're at a Navy recruitment office. Ben carries on singing while Alex follows him, looking confused.}

BEN: {Singing}
Together, We will fly so high
Together, Tell our friends goodbye
Together, We will start life new
Together, This is what we'll do!!!!

{The walls of the office open as it is revealed that they are already on a boat. A chorus of showgirls in American flag outfits appear from both sides and begin to join Ben as he sings.}

BEN: {Singing}
(Go west) Life is peaceful there!!!
(Go west) Lots of open air!!
(Go west) To begin life new!!!!
(Go west) This is what we'll do!!!!

{Alex's costume begins to emit sparkles from the nipple area as fireworks explode in the air behind them. Two bald eagles fly over, carrying a giant American flag in their beaks as Ben finishes the song. Alex still looks confused.}

BEN: {Singing}
(Go west) Sun in winter time!!!
(Go west) We will do just fine!!
(Go west) Where the skies are blue!!!
(Go west) This and more we'll do!!!!

{The song ends to a massive applause. Ben and Alex are now in the Navy.}

ALEX: ben you fucking idiot that was the wrong song

BEN: What?

ALEX: you were supposed to sing "in the navy" not go west for fuck's sake

BEN: Oh, DAMN IT.

{Alex ponders}

ALEX: I feel very conflicted about this whole thing anyway

BEN: Oh? Why so?

ALEX: We come from great britain. Our navy is like Samoa's obesity rates, there are none better.

BEN: Well, just think of it as us helping these poor american swines and their shitty navy then.

ALEX: Ah, that does help.

BEN: So, ever wonder what oddball connecticut based celebrity we can have come meet us for this encounter

its 50 cent

50 CENT: Yo waddup dawgs? It's me, your captain, FIFTY CENTS!

ALEX: Fiddy, how come you're from the whitest goddamned state in all of the USA?

50 CENT: Yo dawg, I got shot 9 times.

ALEX: ben stop you're whiter than a snowman KKK member stop trying to write like 50 cent

50 CENT: anyway, dawgs, i gotta introduce you to the rest our crew here on the USS Get Rich or Die Tryin'. We got me, your captain. And my entourage of 50's chicago gangsters

GANGSTERS: SHEEEEE

50 CENT: anyway, this done excursion about to begin. thug life swaggy swaggy 420 BITCHHHH LETS SEND THIS SHIP INTO ORRRR-BIT

BEN: alex you racissssit

ALEX: WELCOME TO THE NEW YEARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

{Alex's nipples start shooting fireworks into the sky as it emerges that it is now suddenly 2015. 50 Cent has died of starvation.}

BEN: FIDDY'S DEAD

ALEX: no hes not

{50 Cent's skeleton reanimates and begins to grow flesh, before growing skin, and becoming reborn}

50 CENT: hahaha silly brits

{zoom in on 50 cent's face}

50 CENT: Fiddy never stays dead.

BEN: alex what have we done. we've created a monster.

ALEX: we did. it's the frankenfiddy.

50 CENT: FRANKENSTEIN WAS THE DOCTOR, NOT THE MONSTAH.

BEN: DON'T FUCKING TEST ME, FIDDY. I'LL FIGHT YOU. I'LL WIN!

{50 cent pulls out his gat and shoots ben 9 times.}

50 CENT: This is just the beginning. Anyone who don't submit to my demands is getting 9 more of those puppies.

ALEX: Puppies?

50 CENT: I said puppies!

{50 Cent shoots Alex in the kneecaps}

50 CENT: Demand one, all bullets must now be referred to as 'puppies'. Demand two, no-one's ever gonna make me take out the trash again. I'm fuckin rich, damnit, I don't need that shit. Demand three, good education all across America, not just Connecticut. It seems right, damnit.

ALEX: Wait, Fiddy, not yet. What if there's another way?

50 CENT: You can't fight me! I'm immortal! I'm like the Keith Richards of rap!

ALEX: There has to be a way to beat you. Maybe, maybe a rap battle? It can be like the Devil Went Down to Georgia!

BEN: alex im in incredible pain. take me to the hospital.

ALEX: A rap battle! C'mon fiddy, you chicken?

{Silence.}

50 CENT: ....NOBODY. CALLS. ME. CHICKEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

{50 Cent's rage causes a Dragon Ball Z explosion which transports the three to a new location. The Connecticut State Capitol, which has now been re-purposed into a rap stadium. The referee of the match is none other than Connecticut native and beloved three-time Academy Award winning actress, Meryl Streep.}

BEN: wow meryl i love your movies

MERYL STREEP: Quiet, Benjamin Schlanker! This is a important event. A rap battle has been declared, and Connecticut state law makes it so that they must be held in the Capitol, for the entire state to see. Alexander here has challenged none other than Curtis Jackson III, also known as the Grammy Award Winner, 50 Cent. I do not know what you have gotten yourself into, Alexander, but may god have mercy on your soul.

50 CENT: Alright little punk, let's do this!! DJ, hit it!!

{The DJ (who turns out to be George Bush Sr.) presses a button on his machine that generates the beat.}

50 CENT: Alright little Brit, you wanna play ball?
Wanna be Ash Ketchum, wanna catch 'em all?
Well, sheeeeeit, you got your wish.
Gonna serve your pale ass right onto a dish.
Gonna cook you up, and cut you up like medium rare steak,
Watch the blood drain from your face like you made a mistake.

A mistake you made by challenging me,
I'm 50 Cent bitch, and I shot you in the knee!

ALEX: Although you have a point, and I am bleeding from the extremities,
I'm gonna rap up a dish and bring up some painful memories
Remember your videogame, Blood on the Sand?
Holy shit brotha, damn it was bad!
Bad graphics. Bad gameplay.
Playing it mad me wanna say "MAYDAY!!"
To call in some backup just to handle that shit
Although to be fair, for a shameless cash in game, it actually wasn't that bad. In fact, it wasn't a bad game at all, I actually enjoyed it. I just had to trash it for the sake of the rap battle, y'know? No hard feelings.

50 CENT: Shit dawg, you mean it?

ALEX: Of course, 50 Cent, you're an idol!

50 CENT: Aw shucccks.

{Alex and 50 Cent share a friendly hug. Suddenly, a new challenger enters the ring. Quite literally in fact, as a 1980s DeLorean car appears from a time warp, leaving a trail of fire behind it. Stepping out of the car is none other than Dr. Emmett Brown.}

EMMETT BROWN: Great Scott! Right now, this needs to stop!
This rap game is causing the future to pop!
For this moment will lead into a terrible event,
From the past, to the present, and to the present!
See, the other British lad, he's watching with anticipation,
Inspired by these words to overthrow the nation!

And install a military dictatorship
Based on the nuances of his kooky relationship
With a certain animal, known for being quite lazy... the name of the species... my memory's rather hazy...

50 CENT: Sloths?

EMMETT BROWN: Sloths! That's right, a tyrannical rule,
Where sloths inherit the earth and make us all their fools!
So please, Mr. Fifty, and Alex, I urge you all to reconsider.
Before Ben becomes a criminal mastermind, just like the Riddler!

BEN: TOO LATE FUCKAS. THIS WAS MY PLAN ALL ALONG.
To instigate a beef between Alex and Fifty so they make a rap song!
So while my companion was distracted, I can enact my final action,
Releasing sloths from the zoo to create my criminal faction.

{As Ben raps, thousands of sloths begin overtaking the Connecticut Capitol.}

BEN: In case if you hadn't noticed, I'm criminally insane.
Doing wacky crack shit with Alex on cocaine.
Oh, by the way Mrs. Streep, I'm making you my bride.
I will rule this Earth with you at my side.
Put the crown on my head, and I'll be the Sloth King.
And you can be the Oscar Sloth Queen!

MERYL STREEP: You dare try and take my hand in marriage, mortal? Why, you are pathetic. FOR I AM ALREADY THE SLOTH QUEEN!!

EMMETT BROWN: Great Scott. This was the prophecy all along!

MERYL STREEP: That is right, Doc. Ben was merely a pawn in my plans. I brainwashed him into thinking that he came up with this plan, but in reality it was all my doing. You see, I spent many years as an actress so I could win awards which I would use to construct my Oscar Meyer Weiner Ray, which would allow me to brainwash every sloth in existence into obeying me.

50 CENT: This is madness!!

MERYL STREEP: No, Curtis. THIS. IS. ACTING!!

ALEX: What can we do? Fiddy, do something!

50 CENT: What can I do? Shoot Meryl Streep 9 times? Mo fucka I ain't shooting Meryl Streep! Ain't you seen The Devil Wears Prada? it's fuckin dope as hell!

ALEX: Please, Fiddy, DO SOMETHING!

BEN: does he have too? i'm kind of digging these sloths.

MERYL STREEP: See that little black boxes? They are called a telephone. I’m gonna let you in on a little secret about this telephones. They’re not gonna dial themselves! Okay? Without you they’re just worthless hunk of plastic. Like a loaded M16 without a trained Marine to pull the trigger. And in the case of the telephone, it’s up to each and every one of you, my highly trained Sloths, my killers. My killers who will not take no for an answer! My fucking warriors who’ll not hang up the phone, until their clients either buys or fucking dies! Let me tell you something. There is no nobility in poverty. I’ve been rich, and I’ve been poor man. And I choose rich every time. Cos, At least as a rich man, when I have to face my problems, I show up in the back of a limo wearing a $2000 suit …and $40,000 gold fuckin’ watch! Now, if anyone here thinks I’m superficial or materialistic. Go get the fuck out and get a job at McDonald’s, because that’s where you fucking belong! But, before you depart this room full of winners, I want you to take a good look at the person next to you, go on. Because one day in the not-so-distant future, you’re pullin’ up to a red light in your beat-up old Pinto, and that person’s gonna pull up right alongside you in a brand new Porsche, with their gorgeous young wife by his side. Who’s got big voluptuous tits. And who will you be next to? Some disgusting wilder beast with three days of razor-stubble in a sleeveless moo-moo, crammed in next to you with a carload full of groceries from the fucking Price Club! That’s who you’re gonna be sitting next to. So, you listen to me and you listen well. Are you behind, on your credit card bills? Good. Pick up the phone and start dialing. Is your landlord ready to evict you? Good. Pick up the phone and start dialing. Does your girlfriend think you’re a fucking loser? Good. Pick up the phone and start dialing! I want you to deal with your problems, by becoming rich! All you have to do today …is pick up that phone, and speak the words that I have taught you. And I’ll make you richer than the most powerful CEO of the United States of fucking America. I want you to go out there, and I want you to RAM being a sloth down your clients’ throats. Till they fucking choke on it till they choke on it and buy 10,000 shares! That’s what I want you to do. You’ll be ferocious! You’ll be relentless! You’ll be telephone fucking terrorists! Now, let’s knock this Motherfucker out of the park!

BEN: okay yeah please make her stop, she's acting to well for me, it's hurting.

ALEX: Come on Fiddy, you can do it!

BEN AND ALEX: FI-DDY! FI-DDY! FI-DDY!

{50 cent passes out.}

BEN: What did we do?

{A sloth jumps through the window and cuddles alex, who fucking kicks it}

ALEX: I think we overexurted Fiddy. He needs a nap.

BEN: Fuck, you don't think he's slowly turning into a sloth do you?

MERYL STREEP: It's true, Ben. My DNA transfigurer is slowly turning Fiddy's DNA into the ultimate rapping sloth!

BEN: noooo.

ALEX: {tears in eyes} Come on, Fiddy! Don't be a sloth! Stay as you! For me!

{Alex cries a single tear onto Fiddy, before sobbing into Ben's chest. Unbeknownst to Alex, Fiddy stirs.}

50 CENT: ...dee...

ALEX: Huh? Fiddy? Dee? What do you mean?

50 CENT: ...kay...

ALEX: Kay? He's gone delusional Ben. He's turning.

50 CENT: Dee...kay...

ALEX: What? I don't get it? Dee Kay?

{50 cent suddenly awakens, and grows a pair of angel wings, as well as some sweet custom rims. A holy light engulfs him as he rises in the air. A second beat starts playing}'

50 CENT: D K! DONKEY KONG!

BEN: HOLY SHIT, ALEX, FIDDY'S DOING IT! THE D.K RAP! OF COURSE! GOD'S OWN RAP SONG! IT'LL VANQUISH THIS BITCH MERYL!