Neptune, NJ — He stands 5′ 9″, weighs 190 pounds, and has dreadlocks — other than that, doctors here at Jersey Shore University Medical Center know nothing about the mysterious person some are calling “Rapper Man.” He was found Saturday evening, washed up on the Jersey Shore at Wildwood amid discarded condoms, hypodermic needles, and cans of pomade. Wearing a drenched hoodie, baggy jeans, and Timberland boots, the man would not speak one word through his chewstick to lifeguards or beach police called to the scene.
The authorities immediately rushed him to local nightclubs to be berated by drunk people. “I told that fuckin’ faggot he was a fuckin’ faggot,” a local guido said.
“Did you just call me faggot, motherfucker?” a passing guido inquired.
“Bro, if you want to go, we can go any time you want,” the first guido replied, followed by a flurry of recycled Sopranos dialogue.
“Yeah, that guy was fucked up,” a somewhat more helpful whore said. “He wouldn’t say anything, and all his clothes were played out, like what guys used to wear in high school. I was like, there is NO WAY I would go home with him, ever! Ya’ know?! Anyway, I felt sorry for him, so me and Amanda called the hospital.”
The man was brought to the hospital and examined by several doctors, none of whom could get him to tell them who he was or where he came from. He remained mute and unresponsive until a peculiar occurrence brought him out of his almost catatonic state. Dr. Tom Flaxman recalls, “All the patients were sitting in a room watching television, and this Indiana Jones movie was on. Well, when one of the characters was carrying a torch around, it’s like something clicked inside of him, some sort of psychological trigger. He immediately stood up and let loose with a barrage of ‘diggidy”s and ‘figgidy”s, hopping around and carrying on, getting the other patients and even the staff all hyped up. One of the interns told me that he was actually singing a rap song by some German sounding group.”
Dr. Flaxman had hoped that this breakthrough would lead to finding out the identity of the man, but it became apparent that he was only willing to communicate in one form: rapping. When asked his name, he would only reply “the boogidy-woogidy Brooklyn boy!” He quickly earned the nickname Rapper Man, as he entertained the children’s ward and emergency room with his memorized Das Efx songs. He would rap throughout much of the day, but then spend his non-rapping hours back in the impenetrably repressed state he came there in.
“Everybody keeps insisting this is a positive sign,” Dr. Flaxman says, “but I don’t know. A lot of what he’s saying just sounds like gibberish. I mean, explain to me what Doogie Howser has to do with Walter Kronkite, or Shaka Zulu. That doesn’t make any siggidy sense.”
The hospital staff are working around the clock, following all leads to find Rapper Man’s identity. They almost seem disappointed by the fact that he just raps in an early 90’s style, rather than, say, plays virtuoso piano. Dr. Flaxman says that some of the doctors have now begun to raise the possibility that Rapper Man is, in fact, a member of Das Efx.
When reached for comment, original Hit Squad member Redman said, “On the real, we haven’t seen Skoob’s stankin’ ass for like 3 weeks.”