NIGEL'S ROCK BAND

Nigel had the lyrics to his new song exactly the way he liked them, and he was super excited to perform it with his band mates at rehearsal.

"OK guys, I finished polishing up the words and I think it's a real gem. Troy, give me a verrrrrry soulful beat. Todd, go ahead and put some stank on that bass line."

Troy and Todd started playing to Nigel's specifications as he licked his lips hard and fast and thoroughly until it seemed completely inappropriate. Then he started singing:

My Grampa... wear him skinny jeans... to church
oh bay-buh, bay-buh
My Grampa... wear him skinny jeans... to church
oh bay-buh, bay-buh

I tug his little finger
And he give me little choc-o-lat
And he give me little co-co-nut
My Grampa... wear him skinny jeans... to church
oh bay-buh, bay-buh,

Gimme... little... kisses....
Gimme... little... kisses...
Bay-buh, bay-buh..."

Nigel didn't notice, but Troy and Todd had stopped playing. He kept singing with his eyes clamped shut until Todd cut him off:

"STOP!"

"...Huh? ....Why?"

"That's not a good song. The lyrics are awful."
 
Nigel was shocked.

"Yeah, I don't feel comfortable playing drums to that," Troy shook his head in agreement.

"But it's about my grampa Rooples. I love my Gampy Gamp."

"Well... This is supposed to be a cool rock & roll band. Your grampa Rooples is a retired cobbler," Troy said.
 
"And a faggot," Todd added.

Nigel lunged at Todd, but Troy pinned him down effortlessly until he stopped resisting.

"Look, Nigel... I don't think you mesh with our vision at all anymore. We don't want you in the band. You aren't talented."

Nigel licked Troy's wrist and wiggled out from under him.
 
"Well I just don't get it!" he screamed with tears in his eyes. "You guys wouldn't know talent if it gave you little co-co-nut! You asked me to write your lyrics, but you don't really know what you want!"
 
"We definitely don't want sexual songs about your Grampa Rooples."
 
THE END

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