The Jacko and R. Kelly Show

“Welcome to the Michael Jackson and R. Kelly Show!  Tonight’s guests are Dick Cheney, Jesus, and a special appearance by The Klan!”  I said to the shrink.  

     He stared at me with calm eyes and his hands interlaced on his right knee.  

     “Then there is this goddamn saxophone music.  You know, that sleazy, energetic shit they play.”  I looked over and stopped talking as I studied a picture of flying ducks on his wall.

     “Continue,” he said.

     “I’m looking around the set.  It’s like an Easter parade but with lots of nude Greek statues. Lots of little furry animals are running around.  The ground is actual Montana Blue Grass.”

     “Montana Blue Grass?”

     “Yea, you know…  Grass”

     “I know what Grass is.”

     “Good.  So then this pink curtain rolls up and Jackson is driving this, I don’t know what the hell it’s called, one of those toy kids cars, you know, the kind that are big enough for like a 4 year old to sit in.  He drives it out onto the grass honking and giggling and pulls up to the side of this red desk.  To the right, or I guess left side from the audience’s point of view, is a white leather couch.  Then to the right side of that is R. Kelly and the band.  Jackson starts blowing kisses at him and Kelly does the same.”

     “What’s he wearing?”

     Jackson is actually dressed up in a purple suit with a bunch of war like medals pinned to it.  R. Kelly is wearing these silver reflective sunglasses.”  

     “When you saw Michael, what did you think?”

     “Doesn’t matter yet.”


     “Just bear with me.”

     The Shrink just blinked and waited for me to go on.

     “The music that’s playing is pissing me off.  I want them to stop and it finally does.  But Jackson’s laughing so hard he’s gasping; it’s crazy because it’s almost like he’s choking, and then he starts to pound the desk.  When Dick Cheney comes out Jackson stands up and bows to him like a Japanese woman.  It’s almost a curtsey with the knees bent the way he does it.  Cheney bows back, laughing, and then waives to the audience with a big smile before sitting down.”

     “Do you dislike Dick Cheney?”



     “Because I think he’s a shady cocksucker.  Anyway Cheney says ‘Jackson, I just love your music. Such rhythm.  Such blues.’

     “Jackson starts giggling again.  ‘Did you hear that, Kelly?’ he yells over at the band.

     “’Did I hear what?’  Kelly asks back.

     “’Dick loves me…’ Jackson looks up into the sky for a second, then back down to R. Kelly.  ‘Dick loves me!’  He laughs hysterically.  ‘Who loves Dick?  Who loves Dick!’  He starts clapping and jumps up onto his desk and dances to ‘Who loves Dick!  Who loves Dick!’  He spins on one foot and then does this motion with his ass like he’s being humped.

     “R. Kelly blows on the Saxophone, and Cheney pulls out his harmonica and starts to play.  This goes on for a couple of minutes until Michael starts crying and sits back down waiving at them with a hanky to stop.

     “’Who loves Dick!’ he yells out one more time.”

     “R. Kelly yells out.  ‘I love dick!’

     “Jackson giggles.

     “Then it fast-forwards to some banter between Jackson and Dick Cheney.  Jesus is sitting on the other side of the couch smoking a joint.  He’s peaceful, you know.” 

     “The Jesus?” the Shrink asked.

     “The very one.”

     “Did this really happen?”

     “Of course it didn’t.  It was just in my head.” 

     “Like a dream?” he asked.

     “No…  More like an idea.”

     “Is this your way of asking for more anti psychotics?”

     “Shit man, it’s your call.”


     “Dick is eating a cupcake with rainbow sprinkles as he talks.  ‘Now Michael, what’s this I hear about child molestation?  I mean, I can understand with a girl child, but a boy child?  That’s just too queer for an American.’

     “’Don’t say that word.  I don’t love that word.’ Michael says with a nervous giggle.

     “’What word?’

     “’The M Word.’

     “R. Kelly pops up.  ‘Motherfucker?’

     “Jackson frowns at R. Kelly.  ‘No Silly…  Molestation.  I don’t love it.  It’s a bad word.’

     “’So you don’t touch children?’ Dick asks.

     “’Dick, everybody touches children, but my situation is special.’

     “’How so?’

     “Michael looks over at Jesus then back to Dick.  ‘Because God gave me a Jesus Penis.  And a Jesus Penis is a very special thing.  It’s cute and little, with no hairs.  It’s my little key and it needs to unlock little keyholes of love.  That’s why when I sleep next to the children it doesn’t hurt them.  They barely feel it.  It’s more like a warm kiss down there than anything else.’

     “There is a moment of silence from the group.  Jesus stops smoking the joint, looks over at Michael and says, ‘That’s pretty fucked up, Jacko.’

     “’Oh Jesus…  Just read your Bible.  It’s all in there.’ Michael says giggling.

     “This train whistle goes off and Jackson starts jumping up and down in his chair looking straight up in the air, and then frosted cupcakes start to fall from the sky with little parachutes attached to slow their fall.  There are three different colors of frosting: red, white and blue.”

     “Did they make you hungry when you saw them.”

     I thought about it.  “Not then, but they kind of make me hungry now that I think about it.”

     “Would you like some Jolly Ranchers?”


     He reached into his desk and tossed me a bag of them.  I opened it up and unwrapped one and put it in my mouth.  Cherry.

     “So the cupcakes…”

     “Right.  So they’re raining down on us.  Jackson reaches up and grabs as many as he can, placing them on his desk.  R. Kelly is laughing.  Dick is smiling all wide-eyed and Jesus looks irritated and lights up another joint.  Jackson starts to eat them, taking little tiny bites and licking frosting from his fingers.  Dick follows, taking big man bites.  Jesus is getting frosting in his beard.  R. Kelly has a dot of frosting on his nose.  It’s freaking me out because they all stop talking and just make grunting and sighing noises as they eat the cupcakes.  Like, have you ever noticed how other people eat?  All those chewing and swallowing noises; fucking disgusting.”

     “Why is it disgusting?”

     “It just is.”

     I opened up another jolly rancher and sucked on it even though I wasn’t done with the first one yet.  Green apple flavor.

     “After they finish eating, Jackson hits this Gong behind his desk with a giant black rubber dildo.  All these little boy children come running out wearing white togas and grab the remaining cupcakes.  Jackson just goes into fits when he sees this.  Jesus calms him down with one word: ‘Jacko…’

     “Jacko stops and puts his hands together, making a pyramid and closes his eyes chanting something.  Couldn’t hear it.  But it calmed him down.”

     “Have you ever tried meditation?” The shrink asked.


     “Why not?”

     “Never had the opportunity.”

     “If you would like to read up on it, I have some books in my personal library I could lend you.”

     “No, that’s alright.”

     “Why not?”

     “I don’t think meditation would help me.”

     “Why not?”

     “Cause I’m fucking impatient. You gonna let me continue or you gonna keep hassling me?”

     The shrink sat and waited.

     “Good boy.  So the children disappear with the cupcakes and then R. Kelly starts up again with the Jazz music.  The pink curtain rolls up and out walks a Grand Dragon from the Ku Klux Klan.  Jackson screams and runs over to him taking his hand and guiding him over to the couch to sit down.  Dick and Jesus slide over and make room.  The Grand Dragon sits down and leans into Jackson and say’s, ‘You gonna tell that fucking monkey to stop playing the Jungle music?  Or am I going to have to do it?’  Jackson giggles and waives to R. Kelly to stop.”

     “What does the Grand Dragon represent?”

     “I don’t know.”

     “Does he have a name?”

     “No, well not at this stage.”

     “You mean metaphorically?”

     “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.  He gets a name later.  Just keep up with me. 

    “So Jackson says, “Now, I understand you’re very big in Germany; what’s the name of your new album?’ 

     “The Grand Dragon looks over at the other guests on the couch then back at Jackson.  ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

     “Jackson giggles.  ‘The name of your band, Sleepy Pants.’

    “‘What did you say?’ The Grand Dragon asked.

    “‘Sleepy Pants,’ Jacko said.

     “And that’s when it starts clicking in the back of my head.  I know the Grand Dragon’s voice.  It’s like that moment right before you spit the answer out to a question but somebody else says it first.”

     “Whose voice is it?”

     “Charlton Heston.”

     The shrink smiled.

     “He pulls his hood off and the crowd goes nuts with excitement.  Old women in the audience are wetting themselves with glee.  He could have his pick of any woman over 65.  He gives them this evil smile and laughs with his mouth open.”

     “’Michael Fucking Jackson!’ Heston yells right at him.

     “Jacko doesn’t know whether to run away or run towards him and hug him.  ‘Mr. Heston!’ he squeals.

     “’Mr. Fucking Jackson.  God bless you!’  He says it so big and loud that I wonder if he’s pissed at Michael.”

     “Do you like Charlton Heston?”

     “Shit yea.  He was Ben Hur.”

     “Even though he’s the president of the NRA?”

     “Gun control advocate are you?  Look, all I know is if for some reason a nuke goes off in downtown LA and I survive the initial blast, this whole city is going to turn into the biggest fucking riot the world has ever seen.  All I’m asking for is a 50 caliber machine gun attached to the top of a Humvee to fight my way down the 405 to Mexico.”

     “Do you really think that will happen?”

     “I fucking hope it does.”

     “Why would you say something so horrible?”

     “Because it makes my cock hard.  Don’t worry, it’s just wishful thinking.  So Heston is giving Jackson this huge roar of a laugh and Jackson is getting scared.  ‘You beautiful white thing you…’ Heston says.  ‘I like you.  I think I’ll pimp you, let the little boys have their fucking way with you!’  Heston slams his left palm on the desk and starts laughing even harder.

     “Jackson starts to cry when Heston does this.

     “Heston continues.  ‘If only all black people did what you did.  You’re such a pretty color now.’  He laughs as he looks right over at R. Kelly.

     “R. Kelly takes his Saxophone off and puts it down.  ‘What did you say?’ he asks Heston.

     “Dick gets in on it.  ‘Now Mr. Kelly, I think what Mr. Heston is saying is simply that Michael overcame many obstacles in his life and that—‘

      “‘Shut up Dick!’  Heston didn’t even look at Dick when he said it.  Eye’s still locked on R. Kelly.  ‘What I meant to say was that I wish all black people had the sense to turn themselves white.  As the saying goes, Be Like Mike.’

      “‘Mother fucker!” R. Kelly yelled.

      “‘Goddamn dirty Apes!” Heston yells back, laughing.

      “‘Children,’ Jesus says.  ‘Hatred is not the way.’

      “‘Oh,’ Heston said looking over.  ‘Well if it isn’t the Son and fucking Profit.  Where have you been the last 2000 years?  Tending the sheep in heaven?’

     “‘What are you implying Chuck?’  Jesus snaps back.

     “‘Just wandering the fields, being about your Father’s business?’

     “‘I’ll say it again.  What are you implying Chuck?’

     “‘You fuck those sheep in heaven, don’t you?’


     “‘Do they make the noises?  Do they make little sheep noises when you put it in?’

     “‘Shut up…’”

     “‘And do you want to know what the worst part is: you fucking like it!’


     “‘Baaahhh, baaahhh!’

     “Jesus flicks his joint away and leaps for Heston.  Dick grabs him in the air and wrestles him down.

     “‘I’ll kill you!  I’ll crack your head open and drink your fucking blood!’ Jesus roars at Heston.  

     “Heston just chuckles and says, ‘Fucking Faggot.’

     “‘You can’t say that to Jesus!’ R. Kelly shouts at him.
     “Heston’s head has this way of rotating from one person to the next.  He looks over at R. Kelly and smiles.  ‘One,’ he says counting with his fingers.   ‘I’m White.  Two, I was Moses, and three, you’re black.  So shut the fuck up!’

     “Some of the set crew run up and grab R. Kelly before he gets to Heston.  They drag R. Kelly off the set screaming with white foam spraying out of his mouth.  Jackson is sobbing.  Heston loves it like tits and sits back on the couch lighting up a cigar.

     “He watches R. Kelly get pushed out the studio doors and says, ‘Black people.’ Then to Jackson.  ‘Yea, Princess, you know what I’m talking about.’

     “Jackson just cries even harder.

     “Dick looks up as he gets Jesus in a choke hold.  ‘What’s wrong with you, Mr. Heston?  Why are you full of such hate towards them.’

     “‘Don’t give me any of that shit, Mr. Patriot Act.’

     “‘What?’ Dick asked.”

     “‘The Nigger Extermination Act.’

     “‘What are you talking about?’
     “‘The Patriot Act:  Page 1,047 2nd Paragraph 1st line.  Quote:  Nigger Extermination Act: To be enforced the moment blacks begin to learn how to use tools or other blunt objects.  Signed in blood: The W.’

     “‘That’s not in there.’

     “‘Read your Patriot Act.’”

     “What does Charlton Heston represent to you?” The shrink asked.

“I don’t know, I don’t even know what the hell you represent to me.  Are you my conscience?  My good side?  My bad side?  My lack of either?”

     “I hope I represent your balance.”

     “Not yet you don’t.  Hey, I’ve got a question.  When a person knows they’re crazy, like in my case.  How do I become un-crazy?”

     “How do you know you’re crazy?”

     “Cause I’m fucking talking to you.  Because I’m paying to bitch to you about my madness.  I mean I could just be stupid I guess.”

     “How do you know you’re not just confused?”

     “I’m probably that too.  But I definitely know I’m crazy.  How do I fix it?”

     “Years of therapy.”

     “You all say that.  Ok, so Dick has now let go of Jesus and is sitting on the couch in between him and Heston to make sure nothing happens.  Jesus is rubbing his sore neck and Dick is still sweaty.  Heston is grinning and you know he’s thinking evil.  He takes a slow drag on his cigar and then puts it out by mashing the burning tip on Jackson’s desk.  He tosses the cigar to one of the rabbits at his feet.  Jackson is still whimpering and uses his hanky to wipe the ash off.   He drops it to his left on the grass and a boy child runs out and picks it up.  Jackson gives him a little piece of candy like a tip and then the child runs away.

     “Jackson speaks up.  ‘Please Mr. Heston, Jesus was sent here to help up.’

     “Heston looks at Jackson.  ‘Was he now?’

     “‘Yes, and I think you should give him kisses and hugs to make up.’

     “Heston nods his head slowly.  ‘Apologize to Jesus?  Fuck that shit.’

     “‘Mr. Heston!  What has Jesus ever done to hurt you?’

     “‘Alright, let’s talk track record.  Name me the last war Jesus stopped.’

     “Nobody answered.

     “’Name me one disease he wiped out, or a cancer.  I’ll take any cancer for $500.’

     “‘Mr. Heston, Jesus doesn’t cure cancer.’  Dick says.

     “‘No fucking shit.’

     “‘He spreads peace and love.’  Michael says.

     “‘Oh yea, we got a lot of that going around today.’

     “‘Well, what was the last war you stopped, Mr. Heston?’ Dick asked.

     “‘Hey, Fucktard.  That’s not my Job.  That’s Jesus job, and I want my fucking money back, and I want it back now!’  

     “‘Charles,’ Jesus says.  ‘I’ve got one question for you.  Was it your daddy or your mommy that taught you to suck such a mean dick?’

     “Heston head twitches and his eyes light up.  His mouth opens up to say something but then he starts to laugh so hard he almost pisses himself.  Pretty soon, Jesus is laughing with him.  Dick and Jacko look baffled by the joke.

     “‘Goddamn that’s an ice breaker,’ Heston says wiping his eyes.

     “‘Look,’ Jesus says.  ‘I know you’re all pissed at me for taking off like that.  But I had some soul searching to do.  Figure out some personal things.  But I’m back, and things are going to be different this time around.  I’ve changed.’

     “‘What do you mean?’ Dick asks.

     “‘Well for starters, I think we need to do something about these fucking Muslims.  It’s getting out of hand.’

     “‘What do you mean do something?  Convert them?’

     “‘I think they are a little too far gone to be converted to Christianity.’

     “‘What do you have in mind?’

     “Heston smiles.  ‘Kill them?’ he asks.

     “‘Nothing that extreme.  I think they could make a very good workforce.’  Jesus says.

     “‘You mean like work camps?’  Dick asks.

     “‘That’s a start.’

     “‘That’s what Hitler did!’  Dick yells at him.

     “‘So?’ Jesus asks.

     “‘But Hitler!’  Dick looks down at the Montana blue grass as he searches for the words.  ‘He killed millions of Jews!  He almost wiped them out.  Only a few thousand escaped.’

     “Jesus responds in the softest voice.  ‘Nobody’s perfect.’ 

     “‘But Jesus!’  Dick begs for the world he though he knew.

     “Heston laughs.

     “Jackson gets a card handed to him by one of the little toga boys.  He looks down as he reads it.  ‘I’d like to thank tonight’s guests Dick Cheney, Charlton Heston, the Grand Dragon from the Klan, and Jesus.  Tomorrow’s guests: Britney Spears, Colin Powel and Ted Kazinske.  Loves and Kisses!’”

     The music starts up, the show disappears, and I realize I’m lying naked on the grass in a park.  No shrink, no office, just the sprinklers machine-gunning cold water all over me.  I hear bells ringing and look over to see black people coming out of the Gospel church across the street.  

     I wipe some of the water off my face with my right hand.  There’s blood all over it.  Leaning over one of the sprinklers I spray it off my face but the blood keeps coming.  Must be leaking out of my nose.

     A black man walks across the field towards me.  His eyes are glowing red.  

     “Are you alright boy?” he asks me.

     I look around the park, then at him.

     “What the fuck is going on, man?” I ask.

     He smiles.  

     “Welcome…” he says.

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