For some odd reason, in our modern time, everyone and their mom seems to think Freddie Mercury is dead. Now supposedly, he died of AIDS because he way gay. People always love to say gay people died. That is what we call the Christian right. They drop rumors that gay people died of AIDS so that people will not wind up being gay. Ever heard the rumor that Elton John is dead? I have.

But regardless of the evil that spews from the hardcore conservative party, Freddie Mercury is alive and kicking. In fact, a few months back Queen performed one of their greatest shows ever at Beverly Hills in the Clean North. They played all the greats, ranging from Another One Bites the Dust to I Love My Bicycle. The crowd went wild, and Mercury felt as he were on top of the world. But little did he know, on this night of his life, Freddie's career was about to take a turn for the wild side.

It all started on the tour bus just three hours later. The bus itself was immense in nature, epic in proportion, and unfathomably harmful to the environment. Why, there was even a door so the band would not have to stare at the grotesque face of the bus driver, whoever he may be. They were driving along an old, abandoned, and very dark road to get to Wisconson, Clean North's Land of Cheese. They were going to be performing for a sold out audience in Madison. Freddie was feeling very depressed. He was leaving a marking on the crystal-clean window against which he was leaning his forehead. The pitter-patter of the rain made it very cold, and he somewhat enjoyed that. Beyond the smooth glass, nothing could be seen but pitch darkness. Inside the pit of his stomach, Freddie could feel the depression growing.

It was the sound. Sure, he could rock. Sure, he could jam. But he was always either rocking or jamming. He didn't wanna rock, jam, play, freeform, nothing! Something was missing. He wasn't sure what it was, but some ultimate, perhaps even operatic sound seemed just within his grasp, and every time he reach for it, he failed miserably. He was beggining to wonder if maybe, just maybe, he was going to go through his entire life without finding that sound. What if he was just some famous, rich, handsome white guy forever, who could never derive true inspiration for a song that would appeal to the heart of the truc rocker? It was seeming more and more likely each day.

THUMP! The bus hit a bump very hard, and Freddie's forehead retracted from the window, then slammed back into far more hard than he would have liked. Now, beggining to attune to reality again, Freddie realized the bus driver was going very fast. How long had Freddie been thinking about the mysterious sound for? We must be running behind schedule, he thought. He looked over and saw Roger Taylor was asleep on the seat across from him.

"Hey, Roger." he called out lightly, hoping for some kind of answer. However, none came. Freddie began to feel every alone in the world, even though his sleeping bandmates were all around him. He put his chin into his hand, and his elbow into his lap as he began to gaze out the window in deep thought again. But no deep thought came. He saw a tree whiz by the bus, incredibly quickly. He realized that they had to be going at least twice the speed limit.

The door to the driver's compartment opened, and out came none other than actor Vince Vaughn. He was holding a bottle of liquor and he was clearly very drunk. Judging by his bus driver attire, Freddie assumed that Vaughn was the bus driver, and an unsafe one at that.

"Vince Vaughn," asked Mercury, "Why the hell are you our bus driver?"

"Leave me alone!" he yelled back in reply, "I play the same damn character in each role I ever get, I'm a raging alchohlic, no one in their right mind could ever like me, and I, like many actors, am too dumb to remember that I am only acting and I try to date people who I play the role of hooking up with. My god! Someone shoot me!"

The other band members were wide awake by this point.

"I have a gun," John Deacon said, clearly unconcerned with the "disease" of alchoholism that Vaughn faced.

Vaugh started to cry, and Mercury realized that if no one was driving the bus, the fact that they were still picking up speed made little to no sense.

Unless... cruise control! Bum bum bum!

"Guys!" cried Mercury, "We have to stop this bus!"

The other band members all looked around and realized it! They were picking up speed on a downhill slope and Vince Vaugn was way too stupid to try to stop the bus, be he sober or drunk. So they all got up and ran to the front of the bus. But there were so many wheels and levers, and nobody knew how to operate the hi-tech semi-automated driving vehicle. Then they looked over the dashboard and realized they were heading straight for a cliff. In terror, they stumbled over each other trying to get to the door. Suffice to say, they wound up tripping into a doggy pile in the doorway connecting the driver's compartment to the main seating area.

The bus raged off the cliff at nearly 120 miles per hour. It flipped over, and the members of Queen were thrown to the top of the doorway, where they all hit their heads and passed out. Vaughn landed on the roof of the seating area. The bus hit the ground with incredible velocity, and all the windows imploded at once. Thousands of shards of glimmering glass dashed into the main seating area. They tore into Vaughn withunparalleled cruelty. Into his eyes they ripped beyond the sockets. His lungs were grazed and grazed again by pieces that all miraculously entered non-vital areas of the throat. The inner lining of his stomach was ripped open and the stomach acid pouring out began to burn his belly. His limbs were rendered useless for life within a half of a second. Vince Vaughn was drunk, but the pain was unbearable. He would have taken his own life, if only he could move. Confused, unaware of where he was, Vince Vaughn died with no one to talk to (no one conscious, at least). He died a very slow and painful death.

At the rising of the sun, the members of Queen all emerged from the bus, as if they were a morning bloom. Less than 30 yards away there was clearly a city. Thinking it was Madison, they headed for it. However, as they approcahed the city, strange things began to happen. The air become rather foul, and the honking of horns became very common in the distance. The smell of gun powder and cocaine was high in the air, and people screaming echoed into each ear, but never left. By the time they reached the first incredibly busy intersection, it became very clear that they were in the Dirty South! And in one of the worst cities of the Dirty South, no less: Bohemian, the Rap City!

For many people, the Dirty South (more commonly known as DS), is just home. But when you have spent your entire life being white, and half of your life being rich and famous, it is not just home. It is just hell. Feeling the panic set in rather quickly, the members of Queen decided they needed a logical plan before they reached a state of hysteria. They realized all they needed to do was get to a phone and call one of their many agents for help. They walked two blocks looking for a payphone, but when they found one the phone itself had been stolen, and all that was left was an empty box where a means of communication should have been, a chilling reminder to the reality of their situation. They walked a few more blocks when-

"Duck!" cried Mercury, as he threw his bandmates to the ground. From ahead, a green car drove by with a crazed hispanic shooting bullets towards where the band had been. Had they not ducked, they would have been dead.

About 10 minutes later, they finally found a phone. Feeling somewhat hopeful now, they all reached into their pockets to find a quarter. However, nobody has any change on them. They had left it all back on the bus. So they began to head back to the bus. Unfortunatly, when they got to it, somebody had stripped it, taken the tires, and left it on bricks (even though it was upside-down). Inside, everything had been stolen, from the leather seat covers to Vince Vaughn's mangled body. Nothing could be seen that remained. However, Queen did not lose their cool just yet. They reached into their pockets to see if there was anything they could get a quarter for, and they came up with some dental floss and a Sony PSP. They headed to an inner city corner, and began trying to peddle their goods for a quarter. The only problem was, Bargain Colgate was already selling several instances of the Nintendo DS for a five dollars each. Granted, Queen's goods were cheaper, but nobody really wanted a PSP. Some old lady did offer them a penny for the dental floss, though.

All seemed utterly hopeless.

But just then, Brian May saw a sign from above. Well, it was more of in front of him. It said:

COME ONE! COME ALL!
ENTER THE 7TH ANNUAL

BOHEMIAN, RAP CITY

RAP BATTLE SUPREME!

GRAND PRIZE IS 1 QUARTER!

WU TANG CLAN HAS WON IT ALL 7 YEARS!

WILL SOMEONE ELSE WIN IT THIS TIME?!

HOSTED BY MAYOR RAPPY MCRAPPERSON

It was as if that sign portrayed their had to enter that rap battle. And they had to win. No question about it. So they went into building by which the sign hung to enter. However, they came to discover that the entry fee was a penny. So they ran back and caught up to the old lady and sold her the dental floss, and threw in the PSP for free. She kept refusing to take it, but they finally made her. She threw it in a trashcan a block later.

Queen spent that night in the alley, and the next day quickly learned that their 1st opponent in the rap battle was going to be Vanilla Ice. So they all met in the gladiator arena in the center of town. The arena was made of a very deathly and ghostly looking black stone. It was smoothed and polished and gave of the impression of a giant mirror, dark and frightening in it's ways. The inside of the arena was hollowed out nicely, and the battle area was covered with a silky white sand.

The crowd was going nuts. The fact that a group of white boys would be battling another white boy was unheard of. As far as they knew, their was only one good white rapper in the whole world, and he was the best rapper. He was their mayor, Rappy McRapperson ). Mayor Rappy McRapperson sat atop his throne, situated on the arena's highest balcony with his golden scepter of rhymes, his backwards hat, and his fanny pack. These three magical items made his already unequaled rapping skills even better. Mayor McRapperson had a stern look on his face. Many people believed he saw potential in the young Vanilla Ice. Little did they know, the ones he really saw potential in was Queen. Before the battle, McRapperson had been backstage wishing each team luck, and he had glanced into the eyes of Mercury. There he saw something. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew that Mercury was waiting to find it. He was waiting to find that sound that he already knew, but had forgotten before he remembered it. That sound which go beyond the boundries such pitiful things as time can produce. And as for until he found that sound? McRapperson believed Queen wouldn't be able to rap for shit, but they had something better. They had heart. They had hope.

The eastern gate opened and from it emerged Vanilla Ice, a smug expression upon his face. In the last 4 years of this event, he had won the 1st round, and many underdog lovers began to cheer, hoping maybe he'd make it a little bit farther this year, maybe even making it to the top. Vanilla Ice arrived into the center of the arena. Then the western gate opened and from it emerged the band of Queen. The crowd fell ignorantly silent, and the band began to walk timidly towards the center of the arena. When they came face to face with Vanilla Ice, the crowd began to boo at them. No one liked a bunch of rich white boys (oh, if only they knew the truth about Vanilla Ice!)

The referee approached them, and explained the rules:

"Queen! Vanilla Ice! This is a beat battle! Whoever has the power to utilize their beat best gets double points! When you get double points it's hard to beat you unless the other team has totally awesome rhymes! We'll flip a coin to see who goes first! Freddie Mercury, call it in the air!"

"Tails!" exclaimed Mercury, hoping not to let his bandmates down.

"Heads," replied said the ref to the audience, "Vanilla Ice goes first! Queen goes second! Vanilla Ice, you may go!"

As expected, Vanilla did the same song he had done for the past 4 years in a row: Ice Ice Baby. The crowd loved it. Several young woman were instantly aroused. Vanilla Ice felt his pride begin to grow (and thereby, his chances of going to Hell, which is a good thing). By the time it was done half of the girls in the audience totally wanted Vanilla Ice. Queen was stunned. It was so brilliantly executed, how were they supposed to make up something on the spot that was better? Then, as if a ray of light parting the clouds, it dawned on them. Mercury turned around and asked the referee for a guitar, drumset, keyboard and mic. Because it helped them with their beat, they were permitted all of these things and in 10 minutes, they had a stage set up. The interest of the silent, but observant McRapperson had hit a peak.

"Now," said Mercury with a sinister undertone to his voice, "I'll show you the song you STOLE that beat from!"

And they played Under Pressure, which in reality, wound up having the exact same beat, except done by real instruments. Also, the lyrics were alot better. Vanilla Ice got totally owned. The referee declared Queen the winners of the first rap battle! Two more to go and they would have themselves a quarter.

However, not all was going to be bright and cheery in Queen's path. In the alley behind the stadium, Vanilla Ice was wandering back and forth muttering to himself in utter terror. Then eight shadowy figures, and the ghost of a ninth emerged from the blackness. The ghost continued to cast necromantic blessings upon the other eight. One of the shadowy figures spoke in a low and scratchy voice:

"You have failed us, Vanilla Ice. We paid you nearly two whole dollars to defeat the four known as Queen."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please! I didn't even know I had stolen one of their beats!"

"You are beyond apologies, Ice. McRapperson sees promise in those champions of his, the ones he calls Queen. We paid you to prevent them from moving towards us. We gave you a better look, some good rhymes to use, and you threw them all away and hoped to beat them with nothing but your old rhymes again. Well, I am afraid that when you fail us, you have to pay the price!"

"No! Not the price! Please! Not the price!"

And Wu Tang Clan, and the ghost of Ol' Dirty Bastard emerged from the shadows.

"Yes, the price," they spoke, "We want all of the two dollers we gave you, and we want it now!"

They took the money from Vanilla Ice, then kicked him to a bloody pulp. As they walked away, he knew he should have layed there and remained silent, but he had to know the truth.

"Why?" he asked.

They turned around: "What the fuck did you just say?"

"You can only win a quarter off of this contest," squealed Vanilla Ice, "Why would you bribe eight times that amount to keep them from hitting the top?"

The ghost of ODB cast a spell on Ice, causing him to bleed profusely from the eyes. He screamed wildly.

"I will tell you because I like to see you squirm, pig," said ODB, "Rap has become a generic and redundant genre of music. Rappy McRapperson was one of the bringers of revolutionary truth, with rap that remained timeless. To attract creative new rappers, he msde the Bohemian Rap Tournament. Little did he suspect that we, the warlocks of anti-rap, would enter the tournament and win. Our rhymes were too great. He could not defeat us inthe tournament himself, and so the entire city has long since been under the influence of our unoriginal and lame raps that are just about killing people and stuff. McRappeson hopes to have these young champions defeat us so that rap may go back to the days of originality, when R&B actually included blues, and when hip-hop still existed. As the warlocks of anti-rap, we cannot allow this. So we are bribing all of the people who Queen will face. We bribe them and help their act so that Queen has even less chances of winning. Tommorow, Queen will face Lil' Flip, whom we have already bribed. If he fails, which he will not, they will face us. Should they face us, they will lose, and rap will be as dead as ever."

And they all began to laugh viciouslly.

Queen was given a motel room that night, payed for by the city as a reward for their victory. Mercury was having a nightmare. In it, eight shadowy figures were judging him, and he had killed someone. He awoke in a cold sweat. Murder was all that he had on his mind, and it occured to him that maybe the sound he was looking for involved that. However, he fell asleep again before the thought could progress at all.

The next day in the arena, Lil' Flip was there early. He was trying to attune himself with the spirits of the arena, and become a better-

"Hey, are we gonna do the coin flip, or are you gonna surender, buddy?" the ref asked.

Apparantly, Lil' Flip didn't get there early. He was just nuts. The ref went on.

"Queen, Lil' Flip, this is an insult battle! Whoever has the best insults about the other person wins! That one guy who is the host of that show Yo Momma is here to judge! Lil' Flip! Call the coin toss in the air!"

"Tails!"

"It's heads! Queen goes first!"

Queen didn't quite know what to do, but they figured We WIl Rock You was pretty insulting so they performed that. They had a small fan base after the last battle, and quite a few people cheered when they said "You got mud on your face, you big disgrace!" and the chorus was pretty insulting too. However, it wasn't rap. All Lil' Flip had to do was perform the dumbest or lamest insult ever as long as it was in rap form and he would win! So he did what he always did: He performed This is the Way We Ball. He lost miserably. The guy from Yo Momma said he'd heard more negative things from Mike Jones ).

About an hour later, some kids found Lil' Flip dead behind in the street. It looked like his body had been torn asunder by the very flames of hell itself. Wu Tang Clan was nowhere to be found, but word on the street was they won their seond match and would be facing Queen as the finale. Tensions were pretty high on the rabid streets of Bohemian. Meanwhle, in the motel room, Freddie Mercury was crying. On his bed was a letter which read as follows:

Give it up. You will never find the sound you seek.

Mcrapperson's faith in you means nothing.

With Love,

Wu Tang Clan

In a way, Mercury didn't want to believe it, but he had been telling it to himself for weeks now. Wu Tang Clan was legendary. There was no way he could ever find the sound in time. No way. Ever.

The next day, Wu Tang Clan had one last plan to thwart the efforts of Rappy McRapperson before the final battle. They were going to assassinate Freddie Mercury. As for what Mecury himself was doing, he was planning on running. He was in his rap battle dressing room, writing a letter to his colleagues explaining that he felt it was hopeless, and he was getting out before he made an idiot of himself. He opened up the bottle of champagne he had (don't ask me how he afforded it) and read the letter to himself one last time to make sure it sounded okay.

Dear friends,

I don't know why it has had to come to this. I don't know why it is I have to run, but I do. You will probably never see me again. I'll never be able to explain, but there is a sound I seek, and I feel like without it, Wu Tang Clan is the most scary thing this world will ever know to me. I, like you, find it unbelievable that we have had to go thorugh this far with this. Is it even possible? Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? My friends, you and I are caught in a landslide and there's no escape from reality. This is what we are stuck with. Don't cry. It's been a good run. Easy come, easy go, right? Little high, little low, right? No matter what way the wind is blowing, nothing really matters. Remember that. If you decide to take on Wu Tang Clan by yourself, good luck. I just think you may need it. You guys are great.

Yours truly,

Freddie Mercury

He thought it sounded pretty good. It could even make a good song maybe. The very flow it made him short of breath. Oh wait! He was short of breath because he was being strangled! Bum bum bum! It was a member of Wu Tang Clan! Freddie Shoved himself back and knocked down the African-American assailant (boy, that's vague). He dived forward towards the now fallen chair to get away from his attacker. But the attacker grabbed his leg, and pulled out a gun.

"Time to die, motherfucker!" he yelled.

"No!" Freddie shouted and grabbed his bottle of champagne. He hit the man over the head with it. The bottle broke and the toxic champagne chemicals blinded the Wu Tang member for life. Then the Wu Tang assailant fired a bullet that whizzed right by Freddie's head. In panic, Freddie shoved the broken bottle right into the jugular of the Wu Tang Member. He died within seconds. Freddie stood up, horrified. What had he done? What was he going to tell his mother? Would he go on trial? Would he-

Did it even matter?

Did it-

The note he had been writing slipped off the desk and had been fluttering in the air a few seconds amongst the chaos. It now slid into the little pool of blood caused by the death in the room. The letters became illegible, but it didn't matter. Freddie memorized the letter. Everything clicked into place all at once. Freddie smiled and left the room to go tell his colleagues.

At 11:45 PM, Rappy McRapperson sat down in his usual balcony to observe the battle. It was going to take place at midnight sharp, atop a giant elevated stage in the middle of the arena. A look of worry was on Rapperson's face.

"Got any good thoughts as to who is going to win?" his advisor asked.

"Let's just hope it's the newcomers."

"The newcomers? Don't you think they need a slighlty more new sound than what they have?"

"Exactly."

14 minutes later, Wu Tang Clan (bearing one less member than usual) and Queen both entered the arena and stepped onto the immense stage. Both had incredibly confident looks on their faces. The fact that Queen had one at all made young McRapperson smile. The referee stepped onto the stage.

"All right, Wu Tang Clan, Queen! This is the final battle for the 7th annual Bohemian, Rap City Tournament! As you've both been told in advance, whoever can perform about how violent they are the best wins. We will now flip a-"

"No, no," broke in Freddie Mercury, "They can go first."

And with that Queen walked over to their side of the stage, leaving Wu Tang Clan to do their own thing. The members of the clan shrugged at one another and began rapping their famous song which one them the tournament several times in a row: Wu Tang Clan Ain't Nothing to Fuck With.

This put Mayor McRapperson in a state of fear for just a second, but Queen did not flinch and this alleviated his nerves. The crowd went absolutly berserk about how many people Wu Tang Clan talked about killing. It was insane. Then Freddie Mercury picked up his mic and said "Man, you can say you kill lots of people all you want. Anyone can, but what's the point of bragging about it, much less talking about it, if you can't even get into the art and depth one individual murder."

The crowd murmered at this, affected by the true words, and McRapperson grinned from ear to ear. Mercury continued:

"We've learned alot here in Bohemian, Rap City. And what I just said is one of the things we've learned. You can't just go through life being sheltered and pampered. It lets you really rock out for a while, but rock is about your soul, not your wallet. And rap should be, too! So in honor of everything we've learned here. We present to you Bohemian Rhapsody!"

And the other members of the band picked up their mics and sang:

Is this the real life?

Is this just fantasy?

Caught in a landslide

No escape from reality

Open your eyes,

Look up to the skies and see

And then Mercury alone began to sing as the crowd grew increasingly silent:

I'm just a poor boy

I need no sympathy

Any way the wind blows

Doesn't really matter to me

To me

And then Mercury began to play the piano. The audience was unequally enthralled with the music. The music took on a slightly sad

tone, and Mercury began to sing again:

Mama, just killed a man

Put a gun against his head

Pulled my trigger

Now he's dead

Mama, life had just begun

But now I've gone and thrown it all away

Mama, ooooh

Didn't mean to make you cry

If I'm not back again this time tommorow

Carry on, carry on

Because nothing really matters

And the audience actually began to reflect on the lyrics, rather than bump to the beat, and the music became sadder, and Mercury

continued to sing still:

Too late

My time has come

Sent shivers down my spine

Bodies aching all the time

Goodbye, everybody

I've got to go

Gotta leave you all behind

And face the truth

Mama, ooooh

I don't wanna die

Sometimes wish I'd never been born at all

And John Deacon began to play the guitar, and without warning everything stopped and all that was left was a single repeated piano

note, and they all took turns singing:

I see a little silhouetto of a ma

Scaramouche, Scaramouche

Will you do the fandago?

Thunderbolt and lightning

Very very frightening me

Galileo, Galileo

Galileo, Galileo

Galileo, figaro

Magnifico-o-o-o

And that song took upon itself to be a trial, and they kept singing, and no one in the audience dared speak:

I'm just a poor boy

Nobody loves me

He's just a poor boy from a poor family

Spare him his life from this monstrsosity

Easy come, easy go

Will you let me go?

Bismillah, no

We will not let you go

Let him go

Bismillah, we will not let you go

Let him go

Will not let you go

Let me go

Will not let you go

Let me go

Never, never, never, never, neverm never

Let me go-o-o-o-o-o

Oh mama mia, mama mia,

Mama mia, let me

Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me,

For me

For me

And a rocking guitar solo kicked in, and Mercury sang:

So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?

So you think you can love me and leave me to die?

Oh, baby

Can't do this to me, baby

Just gotta get out

Just gotta get right out of here

And the guitar occured again, and then as if it actually morphed it, it became a piano, and became very smooth, and Mercury sang:

Nothing really matters

Anyone can see

Nothing really matters

Nothing really matters

To me

And everyone at once sang:

Anyway the wind blows

The audience was in shock. But of course, in the end, they voted for Queen, and Rappy McRapperson walked on stage and gave them their quarter. Wu Tang Clan was not pleased. They began to cast a dark incantation, but Mayor McRapperson caught them and with his golden scepter of rhymes, he smote them, and they were never heard of again.

The Rap Battle was cancelled the next year. The people no longer needed reminding. Rap can't just be all talk. It has to have heart in it, too or it starts to become a bunch of post 90's crap. The city of Bohemian has flourished since under the guidance of Mayor Rappy McRapperson.

As for Queen, their new song, Bohemian Rhapsody, was voted song of the millenium, and became known by everyone who knows anything about music. Freddie Mercury and the rest of the band felt their life to be complete.

THE END