“You having fun. man?”
“Fuck, man, I had no idea about you motherfuckers.”
“Yeah, we get it on for white boys.”
“This is a blast, Jerry. You do this every night?”
“Except for when we suck, yeah.”
“That happen a lot?”
“You’d be shocked.”
“Well, not tonight. I feel like I can’t play a wrong note.”
“You’ve got an open invitation, man. Hell, you can join the band if you want.”
“Lemme think about that, man. I’m really gonna–
SHWAZZATHOOM!
“–think aboutWHAT THE FUCK?”
“WHAT JUST HAPPENED!?”
“What’s up, Branford? Do you need some Fret-Eeze?”
“No! Where am I? What year is it? BOBBY? What the fuck? Where’s Garcia!?”
“Ah. What, uh, year do you think it is?”
“1990!”
“Ah. Did you, uh, play a D-flat?”
“I think so.”
“Well, there you go. It’s 2018, Jerry’s dead, I’m the Garcia now, Josh is me, and our new bass player is also named Branford.”
“What kind of white person bullshit is this?”
BANG!
“What the fuck?”
BANG!
“Bobby, someone’s–”
…
“Bobby? Damn, he’s quick.”
“I got you now, Wynton, you corny motherfucker!”
BANG!
“STOP SHOOTING! I’m not Wynton! It’s Branford!”
“Branford?”
“Yes!”
“Not Wynton?”
“No!”
“Hate that fucking brother of yours.”
“I know!”
“Hey, motherfucker. Why you hanging out with those old white motherfuckers?”
“I wasn’t! I was hanging out with middle-aged white motherfuckers and then I got shoved sideways through time or something!”
“Chill the fuck out before I slap you.”
“Okay.”
JAZZ SLAP!
“I was calm!”
“You was getting to calm. I helped you along the fucking way. C’mon, let’s go for a ride and I’ll take you back to wherever the fuck you came from.”
“You can do that?”
BANG!
“I’m Miles Davis, motherfucker. Course I can travel through fucking time.”
“I’m so confused.”
good one…
that was some SERIOUS stuff being played at Lockn night 2 set 2…
brilliant
I see what you did there (as the kids say).