Jesse Brown goes over the process of reloading spent ammunition.

Reloading Ammunition

Evan "Boo Thang" Wondra and Toby Taylor, formerly known as Stacy Wintertosh, join us for a game involving a random scenario generator, and a random item generator.

Let's Do Things with the Internet Episode 1: Random Generators

A young man working a mundane job begins to experience schizophrenic symptoms.

The Fleeting Mind

Squirrel Killers Extended

LYRICS

 War of the Words Part Two has just begun
Verbally tearing you a new one is bound to be fun,
you made a mistake, took a wrong turn, one false step
To fuel the next two minutes of your incoming regret

So go ahead, take a seat, the champ deserves the best
And don’t mind me, gonna hit some points that need addressed
I’m not here to stress, just impress on my quest
of smashing this pest, get compressed no contest

Did I hear you right? Did you just say a “prophetic battle entrance”?
Can’t be right, I’d say it’s more a pathetic prattle semblance
Of an amateur punk trying his hand at some rhymes
Clunky word patterns, and screwin’ up big time

Ascent or descent, I see no decent writing present
Just medieval scribbles of some cocky little peasant
Your vocab’s sub-par, second to mine by far
Crowbar your verbal train car, and show you how to spar

You’re a snake oil salesman, got big talk but really flawed
Hack job’n all your rhymes, then hawk’n ‘em like a fraud
My lyrics get applause, yours get mercilessly clawed
Once I’ve torn down your facade, you’ll know I’ve always been a god.

So when you get up respond I expect a sick track
And it better be light years beyond just a simple comeback
Anything less than that and you ain’t worth your fake crown
Make you confess you lost, turn your world upside down

Shots have been fired and now the ball’s in your court
Get your target acquired, and don’t you dare fall short
I’ve got high hopes, you’ve got ‘till sundown
Already in my scopes, prepare to get shut down.

Can you hear the bells tolling? Your time’s come to an end.
Say goodbye to your trolling, say goodbye to your friends.
You see, I got the ball rolling, now you’re at a dead end
I’ll be puttin the nail in your coffin at your funeral when I attend.

War of the Words Pt. II

Straight banger, man.

LYRICS:

Dylan, Dylan. You’re naught but a villain.
You act like a hero but you’re more of a Krillin
Gonna lose this rap battle to the disses that I’m spillin’
just spittin’ dense rhymes built for heavy hittin’

You caught me in the act, I admit it it’s true
I’ve built some alter egos yeah, and they’re my crew
And you’re ‘bouta piss your pants at what’s soon to ensue
When my angry alter ego comes out to rip through you

Dylan, nice to meet you, I’m Ego Number Two
Here to spew for the few who knew who slew you
Namely me and my ego brethren - that’s who
We’re the ones who blew through this battle, it’s true

We called you “champ” in sarcastic fashion
Just a cherry on the top before a vicious verbal bashin’
Truth be told, you shoulda been hospitalized
Capitulation to our eminence is now advised

You know, you were right - this battle’s one and done
That’s what i’ve been saying while I play you like a drum
See the envy light right up in your eyes at the rhythm
Of my dope flow and unmatched lyrical precision

So take your hair metal jokes and all your typos
Get crushed by my flows like all of my other foes
Then raise your white flag and accept your surrender,
Ship shit to your zip, and get return to sender

You’re the one that got shafted, said I’m outta your league
We could be nice, I guess, and chalk it up to battle fatigue
Or not, ‘cause it’s there in your last rap verse
Shot yourself in the foot, someone better call a hearse

Get Ms. Kroeker on the phone we got a croaker in the zone
Dylan’s dying all alone thanks to mistakes of his own
Took a rap to the knee so now he’s guaranteed to see
The breadth of my supremacy as I’m takin’ down my enemies


To sum it all up, I bitch-slapped the champ
He was self-proclaimed anyway so this was a wrap
Due to my musical prowess we put it right in the bag
Now I’m ‘bouta put a bow on this rap, not to brag

So imagine my surprise when I eluded my demise
Then spit back with all that, and some fries
With rhymes like a Big Mac and flows like a smokestack
You’ll never equal me, and now we’re gonna have to backtrack

Your nightmares have only just begun
They’re gonna get worse once I’m finished and done
Dismantling your so-called flawless rap
You’re disillusioned like a Wasteland Claptrap

This round isn’t yours, it belongs in my chamber,
As I fire off a verbal bullet with a full disclaimer
This man’s just a hack, and there are none lamer
Now watch as I finish off his rap in the remainder

You sure talk the talk, but can’t walk the walk,
Pretty hypocritical of you to say, eh, Murdoc?
When the best rhyme you conjure is “cock of the walk”
It must mean your rhyme shop was simply out of stock

Your powers would be fading if they’d ever been there
I could lend you some of mine, I’ve got plenty to spare
Layin’ down these lines I knew exactly where the battle’d go
Straight to a win for me as I’m pissin’ in your snow

Return to Sender

LYRICS

We’re back at it, fire down this clown
Got his floaties on doin’ his best not to drown
No swagger got a stagger ‘cuz the last beatdown
Tryin’ to hit back at the pack but we’re the talk of the town

My man Dilly-Willy, you’re just spittin’ willy-nilly
No rhyme or reason for you but my verses keep it chilly
Your anime reference has got me feelin’ uber bored
Before I strap up a nap, let me pass it on to KeBord

Mhm. I see. 
Well, according to his Facebook, he’s a got a couple friends
154 to be precise, before he gets put in Depends
Been beat twice, no dice, and he’s got no defense
Worked at Taco Bell, Dillon’s in addition to a Library
You’d think he’d be well-read, but I’ll assume the contrary
Dissed DBZ like he’s made of hot shit
He should just admit his whit just left the cockpit

We’re goin’ FullMetal but playin’ you like a game
Like Gantz did to Kei and make you do the same
While I Takezo your ass and Vagabond you real fast
You better google it and get a grip on it, right stat

You can try and kill two, but there’s three of us now
You said Thing 1, 2, and 3, so you musta figured that out
And the weeds were pretty tall, they musta clogged up your mower
Your mom should take you inside, I hope she brought your stroller

We’re educated that’s the topic that was slated
It was fated not debated when your ego was deflated
Do you need it translated or the point rotated?
You’re bad and irritated, You’re rap is simply antiquated.

As I pick up the game, I wanna thank you for the name
I’ll take it, make it mine, and then think of all the fame
Bring you instant shame ‘cause I’m impossible to tame
You’re maimed, lame, claim the blame, just get flamed



So, how’s it feel gettin’ your ass handed right to ya?
Shootin’ barbed disses light speed right through ya
Communicate this, if you can even comprehend
You better tell your friends that I’m a rap godsend

Beat your rap back 100 percent
That wasn’t a hiatus, just taking time to ferment,
Try to hit back again, and just tighten your own noose
You’re just about as fresh…

...as a moldy bag of produce.
I’ll point and click then execute the following disses
Pumpin’ ‘em out like a machine while Dylan misses
It’s truly a shame he didn’t bring some competition
Maybe some features of his own would be a good addition

You got nothin’ on us, yeah, none, zip, nada
Channel Miyamoto on you,  verbal katana
Look it up chump, ‘cause it’s better than your drivel
Try to come at us again and it won’t be so civil

Get down, jump back, you’re in the blast zone
I’d dethrone you if it weren’t for the fact you don’t know
That you can’t be crowned if you’ve never won once
You’re just the class clown only meant to be a dunce

So sit back and revel as I claim the next victory
Just know that you’re only gonna go down in history
As one who misspells “league” and can’t use “your”
And can’t defend himself when we’re at your front door.

trapdrummer