“Logic Jimmy, pure fucking logic. That’s all I’m saying. Can’t you try something else?”
“Something else? What something else Clive? They’re expecting me to go out there and put on a show, a big fucking show! I go out there and give them something else, they’ll turn on me and then this gravy train is over!” Jimmy yells jumping to his feet.
Clive puts his hands in the air. “Calm down there fella. I didn’t say don’t put on a show, I just said try something that’s not gonna end with you winding up in the emergency room again, or worse”
“Clive, mate. I’ve been doing this sort of shit my entire life, and I’ve done crazier shit than this. So why don’t you stop your pussyfooting bullshit and just grab the bucket, I’m on in five.”
Clive looks over to the bucket and then back to Jimmy, running his hands nervously through his thinning hair. “I-I-I, I don’t know man. Just consider the consequences, just consider what could happen if it goes wrong.”
Jimmy laughs. “You don’t think I realise the ramifications of what could happen if this all goes sideways? Fuck man, I’m not stupid. If this goes the wrong way I know I’ll be needing more than a few stitches. But you wanna know what? You wanna know the real kicker to all of this? I don’t give a flying rats arse. I’ve spent the last few years building my audience through YouTube, and now I’ve got a building full of those same people paying big dollars to see me do something fucking crazy right in front of their eyes, and I’m not going to disappoint them. So grab the fucking bucket and just follow the script or I’ll get some stooge from the audience to do it for me.”
“Shit,” Clive hisses as he grabs the bucket and shoves his way past Jimmy. “I ain’t gonna be fucking smiling though.”
“Wasn’t gonna ask you,” Jimmy says as he stares at his reflection and smiles. “Let’s show them Crazy Jimmy Stykes is no one trick pony,” he says as he spins around on the spot and does his best impression of the Michael Jackson crotch grab.
“We’re set,” Clive says as he pokes his head back into the room.
“Then let’s get this motherfucking show started!” Jimmy says as he rushes out of the room and slides out onto the stage to a thunderous ovation.
“CRAZY JIMMY STYKES IS IN THE  MOTHER F’N HOUSE!” He screams out, throwing his arms into the air as a bucket of melted butter is poured over him and the roar of chainsaws fill his ears.