It was a perfect day. Twista licked his lips as he flew down Lincoln Highway at a brisk 90 mph. It was just to clear his head, he told himself. But he knew he needed this. He needed the rush of speeding.
He turned up the volume of his stereo. Twista had been on an old-school Kanye West kick these last few days, and The College Dropout brought back myriad fond memories of his time working with him. Twista had respect for Kanye, but he felt his rap lacked something.
Twista liked to rap along with himself on Slow Jamz. It was cathartic because Kanye, for those precious minutes, submitted himself to Twista’s superior rapping speed. And Twista liked it. He reveled in it every time this song played. Rapping was a race to him, and though he was the fastest, Kanye was still winning.
“Damn baby, I can’t do it that fast, but I know somebody who can…Twista!” Kanye conceded.
He busted right into his epic verse, no different than he had 9 years ago when he first recorded it. His lips curved up into a grin as he rapped, spitting three or four lines per second.
Twista was nearing the end of his verse when it struck him. His rapping was old and outdated; he could rap so much better. Twista knew he needed to take advantage of his limber tongue to the fullest.
He pulled over to the side of the highway and rewound the tape to the start of his verse. “…Twista!” Kanye beckoned.
Twista opened his mouth to restart the ritual. His tongue had kicked into overdrive. It lashed violently about and smacked against his lips, forming phonemes faster than most human ears can process. Fifteen seconds into his verse, Twista realized something was horribly wrong: his tongue was out of control. Its power was far greater than Twista’s.
It wrestled itself behind Twista’s teeth. Twista’s tongue suddenly detached and began to writhe wildly. Twista fought, but the thing pried his lips apart and wriggled its way out. Like a bird, Twista’s tongue took wing and headed toward the skies above.
Amidst all the commotion, Twista’s cassette began to skip, as it had also been going faster than it could handle. All Twista could hear was Kanye’s confession, “Damn baby, I can’t do it that fast…” repeating over and over.
He watched silently as the shining red mass, his talent, his power, his very being, slithered through the air and up, up until it was out of sight.