If I Had (Eminem Fanfic)

Chapter 17- "Why Are You Showing Me This, Proof?"

"Aye man." I greeted Proof under the morning Sun, clasping hands with him, then leaning in for a hug while stepping out on the porch.

He pulled away to look at the state I was in.

"Who fucked you over?"

Turning on my heels, I headed inside, into the living room to plop down on the couch in front of the running TV.

"Man you really fucked it up this time. But you gotta stay positive, be positive. Ya know what I'm sayin'?" He blabbered on, sitting down next to me. He looked at me and sighed, turning his attention onto the TV and clucking, "Awh I loved this match, dawg!"

The TV was displaying an old re-run of the first match between Dallas Cowboys and Washington Redskins last year, which went to the Cowboys' favor. Which I had missed for obvious reasons, being, duh, I got fucking famous.

When the camera closed in on one of the players, Proof exclaimed, "Aww Raghib, my man! May Allah bless you for saving us that day. Phew."

I lost interest in the game and got up in search of food. Leaving Proof on the sofa yelling gibberish at a abiotic resource, I entered the kitchen and walked up to the fridge. Extracting a Mountain Dew can, I gave the door a push with my ass and slammed it shut. Pulling open various cabinets under the kitchen counter, I got hold of a pair of Tato-Skins, deciding they'd have to do. Getting back to the living room, I recaptured my portion of the couch.

Back to watching the game with a bored expression, I munched on the heavenly potato chips. When Proof made a move to have one for himself, with his eyes elsewhere, I bit down on his pinkie since it'd hurt more.

"JESUS CHRIST!" He bellowed, hugging his hand to his chest but not before wiping it on my shirt. "YO ASS SHOULD FUCKIN' ROT IN JAIL, YOU A FUCKIN' THREAT TO HUMANITY MY GAWD!!"

I snapped my head to him, eyes wide. And bared my teeth.

"Befo' you gobble me up like Hanibal, I'm sayin sorry."

I calmed down.

"What's this shit you were gon' show me?" I asked in a non-chalant way, watching the Redskins accomplish another touchdown. "Muddaphuffer." I glared at the team, mumbling under my breath with my mouth full.

Then Proof did something which earned him a couple of 'mmphuffers' from me. He switched off the fucking TV.

Swallowing, I said. "What'd you do that for?"

"I wanna show you something which would require your full attention."

"There's no fucking thing in the world which deserves all of my attention, except if you're talking about boobs, boobs and alot of boobs." I returned, sassily. Pausing, "And my daughters." I said, nodding. "Definitely."

Proof looked around the room and frowned, searching for something.

"Where's your stereo at?" He said, completely ignoring me. Only the noise of teeth crunching crispy chips met his response.

Tossing the empty Tato-Skins packet over to one side, I slowly stood up with a pace of one pregnant woman. "It's upstairs in the bedroom."

He made a slight wave with his hand. "Sitcho' ass down. We ain't goin' together in yo' bedroom. I'll get the fuckin audio player, where's it at?."

Biting back a huge grin, I smiled coyly at him. "Why? There's no one here to see us." I fluttered my eyelashes suggestively, blowing him a kiss. "Proof. aww hell yeah... who would've knew Eminem, the white trash rapper from Detroit, a homophobic mysogynist, likes to have fun with his long time best friend in his bedroom." I announced, my Kaniff coming out. Each of the last thirteen words draining the color from his face. I stared at him, imagining myself to be a psychotic Anthony Hopkins.

"Em, you like boobs, my brother." Proof reminded me, his tone utterly serious.

We continued to peer at each other till I felt my eyes closing and laughter burst from within me as soon as my mouth opened in a gasp. Holding my sides, I heard footsteps around the room, trail up the tiny staircase noisily.

"It's by my bed!" I hollered, barely coping.

I pissed him off. Oh god.

"Yo what the fuck's this shit, it's a girl!" I stopped nodding my head along to the half note beats when a chick's voice came on.

"This ain't the nineteenth century, man! Give it a listen!" Proof hollered, himself watching the match now after having slid the headphones over my head. The audio player laid on his lap.

With my gaze on the match, ears concentrating on the music, I took a swig of Mountain Dew, making use of all of my senses. Then the bitch over the mic began rapping.

Her voice was low and husky, not in that sexy way, but like when you're trying to threaten or scare someone. Paying attention to the lyrics, I understood what she was tryna achieve. This bitch was okay.

But why was Proof showing me this?

"Yo why are you showing me this?" I broke the silence, making him flinch because I'd spoken too loud. How'd I know, with these head phones on? Pausing the music, I looked to him.

He chose two words to reply, pointing exactly two fingers at me.

"Analyse it."

"What the fuckin CIA hired you or what? Telling me to," I cleared my throat and mimicked him, "Analyse it. I'mma anal-eyesin' you, Proof." and finished in, of course, you know whose voice.

"And I ain't never goin to tour wit you." I let out a helpless chortle as he got up to leave. I told him to stop but he turned, saying. "You sir, are a turning out to be one hypocrite son of your wench mother.  Not only are your songs offensive to the gay audience, cause you homophobic but the fact that astounds me is how can a homo be homophobic?"

His speech just made me lose it.

"And you learned English, man." I managed to say after I had gathered myself.

Proof grinned back, "Nah I gotta get my ass back to Sharonda's. You, meanwhile, stay outta the mess. Get a bitch or two. Seriously." I chuckled lightheartedly. Proof paused his smile, "Remember that bitch I was tellin you 'bout when you was on that slick asshole's show? I found her at the Shop. It's her first album. Pretty chill chick."

"Why do I gotta listen to it?" Made no sense. At all.

"Cause you gotta." Answered he.

A/N: This chapter was indeed very random. I'd've ended it on a more serious note. But I didnt wanna. Maybe it just shows what Doodies do together when they ain't at a studio, a battle or on weed. Just watchin a fuckin match like normal white people (and Em eatin chips but not sharin with Proof) Ain't being no racist or homophobic. I hope it is understood this is plain random and meant to be a frickin joke.

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