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Recently Chris Brown and Frank Ocean got into a brawl outside of a recording studio. The news took the social media network by storm for a very short while. No one even bothered to read the story, they just saw the name “Chris Brown” and the word “brawl” and just sort of pieced together the details on their own. I was curious though, about the reasons behind the fight, and through my substantial resources, managed to secure an interview with the two musicians. The following is a slightly censored transcript.

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I enter a small, ornate room to find Frank Ocean and Chris Brown sitting in chairs on opposite sides of the room, each looking square at the other with a grim face. The mood…is tense. The lighting…is disturbingly intimate. Dido is faintly playing in the background. I take a seat in the middle and start.

Rujabes: Well, hello gentlemen. Thanks for sitting down to speak with me so soon after your little disagreement.

Chris Brown: It’s cool, man.

Frank Ocean: Yeah, it’s no problem. All love, baby.

Ruja: Let’s get right to it. The two of you allegedly got into a fight yesterday outside of a recording studio. Is that correct?

FO: Yes it is, man. Ike Turner over here tried to take over my studio and I wasn’t having any of that, man.

CB: Man, f*ck you. You know I like being in recording studios. It reminds me I make music.

Ruja: So that really was the reason? That just doesn’t seem like the whole story. Especially for Chris here. I feel like your…knuckle-bruising escapades in the past make this fight seem…extraordinarily foolish.

CB: I…look, man. I ain’t a fool. I know better than to just start fights like that.

FO: You tell Drake that too?

CB: Man, f*ck you.

Rujs: Gentlemen, please. You seemed a bit reticent, Chris. Are you sure there isn’t a deeper reason behind these confrontations? You can tell, me. I’m black.

CB: I…look, you promise not to tell anyone?

Ruja: I literally can’t promise that, man, it’s an interview.

CB: Fine. Fine, f*ck. Frank, I gotta tell the truth.

FO: I guess we couldn’t keep this a secret forever. Go ahead, bro.

Chris Brown take a deep, long sigh. He rubs his eyes, clears his throat, and begins to speak.

CB: Have you ever seen Highlander?

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Ruja: Highlander? That movie with the people fighting until there’s only one?

FO: That movie oversimplifies things.

CB: It does. Well, it turns out that, hidden among humanity, are a small group of immortal warriors. We’ve been fighting each other for thousands of years.

FO: At the end of our bloodshed, there can only be one.

Lightning strikes outside the window.

Ruja: I just…can’t imagine any of that is true.

CB: The truth is always hard to hear, brother.

FO: The Immortals are very real, man, and there can only be one.

Lightning strikes outside the window.

Ruja: But it’s sunny outside…

CB: The Immortals are drawn together to fight one another to the death every thousand years, or whenever our Juice begins to run low.

FO: Which, coincidentally, happens to be every few months.

Ruja: Juice? Like that Tupac movie?

CB: Exactly like the Tupac movie. Juice is the sustaining lifeblood that flows through every Immortal, and it constantly runs low. Only by defeating another Immortal can Juice be replenished.

FO: There can only be one.

Lightning strikes outside the window.

CB: Yes, brother. There can only be one.

Lightning strikes outside the window.

Ruja: You…you keep mentioning other Immortals. Can you tell me who a few others are?

CB: Sure, why not? Whitney Houston, Daniel Day-Lewis, Michael Jackson, Tupac, Amy Winehouse…

FO: Blue Ivy Carter, Manti T’eo’s Imaginary Girlfriend, Kanye West and Taylor Swift ironically enough, Mozart, the first Elvis…

CB: The little n*gga who lives inside Donald Trump’s hairpiece, Spike Lee, Rick Ross, Biggie, 50 Cent, Kreayshawn…

Ruja: Kreaysawn? She looks like a 14 year old barista.

FO: Exactly. It’s a perfect cover. There’s also Mariah Carey, Drake, Ann Coulter, Nicki Minaj, and Lance Armstrong.

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CB: Dude never doped. He’s just full of a suspiciously high amount of Juice.

Ruja: Word? And let me guess, there can only be one?

No lightning strikes outside the window.

CB: That only works when we do it. And yes, only one.

Ruja: Wait, so…I’m sorry but I gotta ask. What about…Rihanna?

CB: Huh? Her? Nah, man, she’s not an Immortal.

No one speaks for a few seconds. Frank Ocean and I shift uncomfortably in our seats.

Ruja: Okay. Okay then. Um…how do the Immortal duels work?

FO: Well, basically, two of us gather in the parking lot of a Blockbuster. Or the inside of Arby’s…

CB: Anywhere no one ever goes.

FO: And we duel with katanas and hairspray until someone gets their head lopped off.

CB: Then we stage an appropriate, believable death for the police to find.

FO: We’ve been doing that sh*t for years.

Ruja: So that’s why the police never found Tupac and Biggie’s killers.

CB: No, they were black. We basically didn’t have to do anything.

FO: Yep. Sh*t was f*cked up.

Ruja: Oh. Right. Um, I noticed that most of the people you listed are musicians. Why is that?

CB: All of us are thousands of years old. Hell, Nicki Minaj was the head of a cult in the South Pacific in the 16th century.

FO: She hasn’t changed a bit.

CB: And it turns out that the longer you’re around, the easier it is to predict what music people will like to listen to.

FO: Although you wouldn’t guess it with some of the music you put out.

CB: Man, f*ck you. How bout to you make another 10 minute song about strippers?

FO: How bout you make another crime report for beating strippers?

Ruja: People, please, please. Be civil. Okay, one last question, what happens to the victor? What happens to The One?

CB: He gets to see what happens in The Walking Dead before, like, anyone else.

WalkingDead

FO: F*cking love that show.

Ruja: Damn, I’d kill for that too. Well, thank you both. Good luck with the duels and all that.

FO: Pleasure speaking to you.

CB: Namaste, my n*gga.

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