Chapter 4 of My Attempt at a Novel

Chapter 4: Mr. Pibb+Red Vines= Crazy Delicious
As the plane launched, Flushing Shea sipped from his delicious Pibb XTRA and Broadway Lorimer devoured her delicious Red Vines.
Flushing Shea: Hey Broadway.
Broadway Lorimer: What, Flushing?
Flushing Shea: Well, since I’m drinking Mr. Pibb

Broadway Lorimer: Do not say it, Flushing.

Flushing Shea: And since you are eating Red Vines
Broadway Lorimer: Flushing Shea, don’t you dare say it!
Flushing Shea: I think we both agree that the current situation makes it necessary to state the fact that…
Broadway Lorimer: Flushing Shea, you are so dead if you say it.
Flushing Shea: Mr. Pibb and Red Vines equals crazy delicious!
(Broadway Lorimer proceeds to punch Flushing Shea right in the mouth, an obvious sign of her disapproval of his quoting of a famous Saturday Night Live comedy sketch from a few years ago.)
Flushing Shea: Broadway Lorimer, I thought you considered me to be one of your friends who happened to be more than fairly close with you, why, for the love of Fig Newtons, would you punch me in an area as sensitive as my mouth and jaw area?
Broadway Lorimer: Flushing Shea, you still do remain as one of my greater and closer friends, that mutual friendship is most certainly not in jeopardy here, but my sanity was in jeopardy in the situation which happened before, when you mentioned a commonly used quote from the Lazy Sunday sketch which aired on Saturday Night Live in that beautiful year of two zero zero five- or 2005, which is the way you and most other normal Americans and normal denizens of other countries would pronounce that year.
Flushing Shea: But Broadway Lorimer, why do you pronounce that great, beautiful year of 2005 as two zero zero five and not 2005, like, as you mentioned previously in my post injury conversation with you, most Americans and denizens of other countries on the face of this beautiful planet that we all presently live on, which we, or at least the majority of us, call the planet Earth?
Broadway Lorimer: Because me and my family are totally rich, and totally rich people do not speak like the non rich people.
(Editor’s Note: The opinions just expressed by fictional character Broadway Lorimer are not necessarily reflective of the author’s opinion, which is that rich people should not speak at all. Thank you for your time, and we hope you enjoy the rest of the novel.)
Flushing Shea: Uh, there is not that much to talk about now, Broadway Lorimer
Broadway Lorimer: Uh, I do not know what we can talk about, Flushing Shea.
Flushing Shea: Wait a minute, are you thinking what I am thinking?
Broadway Lorimer: I think so!
Broadway Lorimer and Flushing Shea (singing, in unison):
Just a small town girl
Livin' in a lonely world
She took the midnight train
Goin' anywhere
Just a city boy
Born and raised in South Detroit
He took the midnight train
Goin' anywhere

A singer in a smokey room
A smell of wine and cheap perfume
For a smile they can share the night
It goes on and on and on and on

Strangers waiting
Up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching
In the night
Streetlights, people
Livin' just to find emotion
Hidin', somewhere in the night

Workin' hard to get my fill
Everybody wants a thrill
Payin' anything to roll the dice
Just one more time
Some will win
Some will lose
Some were born to sing the blues
Oh, the movie never ends
It goes on and on and on and on

Strangers waiting
Up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching
In the night
Streetlights, people
Livin' just to find emotion
Hidin', somewhere in the night

[Instrumental Interlude]

Don't stop believin'
Hold on to the feelin'
Streetlights, people
Don't stop believin'
Hold on
Streetlights, people
Flushing Shea: That was awesome!!!
Broadway Lorimer: I know. Let’s sing American Pie now!!!
Flushing Shea and Broadway Lorimer (Singing once again, still in unison):
A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And, maybe, they’d be happy for a while.

But february made me shiver
With every paper I’d deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldn’t take one more step.

I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride,
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died.

So bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."

Did you write the book of love,
And do you have faith in God above,
If the Bible tells you so?
Do you believe in rock ’n roll,
Can music save your mortal soul,
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well, I know that you’re in love with him
`cause I saw you dancin’ in the gym.
You both kicked off your shoes.
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues.

I was a lonely teenage broncin’ buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died.

I started singin’,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."

Now for ten years we’ve been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rollin’ stone,
But that’s not how it used to be.
When the jester sang for the king and queen,
In a coat he borrowed from james dean
And a voice that came from you and me,

Oh, and while the king was looking down,
The jester stole his thorny crown.
The courtroom was adjourned;
No verdict was returned.
And while lennon read a book of marx,
The quartet practiced in the park,
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died.

We were singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."

Helter skelter in a summer swelter.
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter,
Eight miles high and falling fast.
It landed foul on the grass.
The players tried for a forward pass,
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast.

Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
While the sergeants played a marching tune.
We all got up to dance,
Oh, but we never got the chance!
`cause the players tried to take the field;
The marching band refused to yield.
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died?

We started singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."

Oh, and there we were all in one place,
A generation lost in space
With no time left to start again.
So come on: jack be nimble, jack be quick!
Jack flash sat on a candlestick
Cause fire is the devil’s only friend.

Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage.
No angel born in hell
Could break that satan’s spell.
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite,
I saw satan laughing with delight
The day the music died

He was singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."

I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news,
But she just smiled and turned away.
I went down to the sacred store
Where I’d heard the music years before,
But the man there said the music wouldn’t play.

And in the streets: the children screamed,
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed.
But not a word was spoken;
The church bells all were broken.
And the three men I admire most:
The father, son, and the holy ghost,
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died.

And they were singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die.
"this’ll be the day that I die."

They were singing,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die."
Broadway Lorimer: That was a fun sing a long. I am going to take a little nap now.
Broadway Lorimer then took a nap. (Note: Broadway is asleep. The following events did not actually occur. If you couldn’t understand this plot twist- please put this novel down and go pick up the closest Curious George book.And some Mr. Pibb while you are at it. Wait, one thing, I think they might call Mr. Pibb Pibb XTRA now, so do not ask for Mr. Pibb at the soda store, ask for Pibb XTRA)
End of Chapter 4.
Chapter 4 Footnotes:
If you have not bought your Mr Pibb yet, put down this novel. I am not joking, I am so serious. I will not allow any Mr. Pibb haters to read this novel, which is now officially sponsored by Mr. Pibb. So now the novel will be written through the Pibb O Vision decoder. Everyone who was Pibb O Vision, please swipe your Pibb O Vision club ID card into the spine of this book while the Pibb Haters look at nonsense words.

OOGIE BOOGIE! LOLOL BUY MRR PIBBB ANMD U CAN READ REALL WRDS NOT THE FAKE WORCDS WTAT U HAV TO RED BECUZ YOU DIDN BIY MR PIBBBBBBBBBBBB!! LOL OL OL L OL OL OL OL.
Okay, now that we got rid of those Pibb Haters, I will allow you to continue reading this amazing novel which was written by me (Note: That’s why it is so amazing.).