The Red Magikoopa then walked over to the microphone, took it from the stand and began to hold it.
"BITLANDS! I KNOW YOU WANNA ROCK! I CAN JUST TELL YOU WANNA FIGHT!" The Magikoopa shouted in an Austrailian accent. "JUST FOR THAT, WE'RE PLAYING THIS! HIT IT FLO!"
The microphone re-appeared back on the stand as the next song began to play really loudly.
"This microphone explode, shattering the molds. Ya eighter drop tha hits like de la o or get tha *crag* off tha commode wit tha sure shot, sure ta make tha bodies drop, drop an dont copy yo, dont call this a co-opt!
Terror rains drenchin, quenchin tha thirst of tha power dons, that five sided fist-a-gon tha rotten sore on the face of mother earth gets bigger. Tha triggers cold empty ya purse!
They rally round tha family with pockets full of shells! They rally round tha family with pockets full of shells! They rally round tha family with pockets full of shells! They rally round tha family with pockets full of shells!
Weapons not food, not homes, not shoes, not need, just feed tha war canibal animal. I walk tha corner to tha rubble that used to be a Library line up to tha mind cemetery. What we dont know keeps tha contracts alive an movin, they don't gotta burn tha books they just remove 'em. While arms warehouses fill as quick as tha cells!
Rally round tha family, pockets full of shells! They rally round tha family with pockets full of shells! They rally round tha family with pockets full of shells! They rally round tha family with pockets full of shells!"
The Red Magikoopa's guitar was then completely engulfed in flames as he began to rub his palm against the strings and use the whammy bar and kill-switch to make the "wah-wah" solo.
"Bulls on Parade!"
"Bulls on Parade! Bulls on Parade! Bulls on Parade!"
And with the final few notes, the song had ended. Surely, at least half a million, if not more, people around the world were having a mosh pit of their own while the song played.
The band then prepared for their last song.
((... Which I will do tomorrow after school. Good night everyone!))
Amber smirked, pulling out what appeared to be a sniper rifle from behind her. She walked to an emergency escape ladder, climbing up and setting up her rifle at a vantage point with the stage clearly in her sights.
*An opposing voice from similar origins rang out.* I don't see what your problem is. You can just focus on a different part of the dimension. *Emcee was too wrapped up in the song to notice either voice much.*
