Under The Radar

Under The Radar

Posted on January 23, 2020 at 8:16 pm by Buck Yates

You Know, a long time ago being crazy meant something. Nowadays everybody’s crazy.

A car drives along a long binding road and passed a signpost.

Signpost: Welcome To Diwan.

As it continues to drive along the stretched-road with little to offer in terms of actual scenery or actual human life. Suddenly, a gas station appears up ahead. Further past that destination.. there’s wilderness.

The car pulls up to the seemingly abandoned gas station; windows smashed and litter cluttered. However, not a total ghost town as a man works on a pick-up truck off to the side of the station.

A door slams and the only visual we can see is only the long legs of a female stepping out from the car. Whereas, the man can also not be fully identified due to him working over the engine of the pick-up with the hood wedged open.

V/O:

You know the difference between them and him? They got cocky.

They got… sloppy.

Cutaway of quick-fire shots of various celebrities flash before us. However, certain footage of Harvey Weinstein accepting an Academy Award on a Hollywood stage remains distinguished.

V/O:

Even the most callous of beasts can be lorded for the most prestigious of prizes.

Cutaway shot of a random snippet of an episode cut from The Cosby Show.

V/O:

But who can we really trust?

.. A friendly face?

Cutaway to the day Michael Jackson first broke out the moonwalk to a awestruck world.

V/O:

Even when faces are plastic we go against mother’s instinct.

V/O:

.. When it’s so glaringly obvious.

The footage cuts right back to the mechanic who works undetected.

“I Believe I Can Fly” by R-Kelly jolts into our sensors and the scene where Michael Jordan from Space Jam slam-dunking in slow motion consumes.

V/O:

But no matter how innocent.

.. No matter how fairytale.

They all…

Disgraced celebrities; past and present are splice in with recent HOW footage. Particularly the stars competing in the Lee Best Invitational tournament… and Oscar Pistorius.

They all.. Fall.

 

….…………………………………………………. Except him.

Cutaway of the infamous O.J. Simpson overhead car chase footage presents itself.

Not him.

We revert back to the gas station where the female slowly approaches the man, hesitantly.

Female:

Excuse me, sir. We’re lost.. can you show us how we get back on the highway?

The man working on the truck suddenly stops. He waits to fully digest the information before making further movement.

Female:

Sir?

The man slowly rises up from the hood and stands deadly still.

Female:

Sir, please?

The man turns around to reveal the most sinister smile. The ugly cretin, wipes his nose with the back of his wrist, and adds more petrol filth to his face in doing so.

Him.

Boo. Tune in next week where I jam a rusty butter knife in a family rabbits neck.

Ya see your up there and we’re down here. Up there is all daisy-chain makin’ and shinnin’ HOW Hall Of Fame rings. And that looks so fackin’ pretty. Lemme run my comb through my three long hairs.

But down here with the rats. This is where it’s happenin. This is where the real test of a bloke can be pitted, or risk gettin’ flushed away with yesterday’s baby wipes and Mother Teresa’s big fat fackin’ turd.

Fack, I don’t belong up there. I am not of ya world. Ya game of ignorance n’ pretendin’ faces. For Buck-boy does not see what ya see. Ya hero’s, false fackin’ prophets.. only man. With two bollocks, n’ once squeezed, screamin’ like piggy. N’ piggy don’t like that. Piggy don’t like that one fackin’ bit.

Captain Dick, order what ya want. Order it all. Order a big juicy camels-toe for all I care. Then once Refueled is over ya can have a slice of humble fackin’ pie. Like Buck’s size twelve right in ya fackin’ chops. Then try eatin’ the rest of ya meals. Buck hopes ya like fackin’ jelly. Like how your legs will go as soon as your stood face-to-face with Uncle Buck.

For ICONIC did not pass me by. I simply went under the radar. Like you forgot, but like Bambi in the jaws of the gaitor.. frail in ya legs, cryin for momma.. I struck. Right before your precious main event where it all mattered n’ ya couldn’t miss.

But whilst ya were all high fivin’ each-other n’ makin’ plans for ya winners parade; Buck’s been plotting. Nah, not you Dick.. you take ya cake n’ eat it. Cram it in ya barstard! I hope it’s fackin’ sweet.

Buck’s been plotting.

Plotting. Under the radar where nobody. Not no expert or muthafuckin’ genius could ever suspect.

But let the masses pick the best looking blue-eyed boy that there ever was.. cos it’s done now. Done after I cut out those damn eyes out and see what ya all see that I don’t.

Or is it that I prefer to be the madman, the weirdo, the nut-job… the crazy.

I’m a true fackin’ artist n’ don’t ya forget it.