Category Linkin Park
Battle Of The G.O.A.T.
Hey-o!!!! Yup, it's lil' ole me; I'm back with another story! :P I'm sorry if I've kind of been ignoring my stories lately. It's just because I've recently found out I'm Dyslexic :/ I know, I have no idea how it happened either. So please point out if I made any mistake here :) Thanks
Disclaimer placed here.
Michael Shinoda hurriedly exited the semi-empty parking lot after parking his car in its respective spot. He was already late as it is and also he couldn't seem to think straight this morning. All that he could focus on was the beautiful creature waiting for him inside the studio.
He bursted through the glass front door into the building, now moving faster. He couldn't help it, he couldn't wait. He was just a few minutes away from meeting his idol but those mere two minutes seemed like two years to him. He didn't want to wait. He's been waiting his whole life.
He reached the elevator and calmly pressed the button. He decided he was going to try and be patient, but let's be realistic here, if you were only a few minutes away from meeting your idol, would you wait? Heck no. You'd ram through those doors and push even the elderly out of the way to meet him or her and Michael was using every ounce of strength he had in his body to not do that. Why was he so nervous? He's met many of celebrities before. Maybe it's because this is no normal celebrity. No, this is father of all rap. The one who inspired Mr Shinoda to improve his rapping techniques. He spent hours studying the dictionary, just like him, hoping his vocabulary would at least rise to his stage. Sure, many people think he's an uneducated high school drop out, that mainly being parents, but truth be told he was smarter than all of Linkin Park combined...or that's what Mike assumes.
Finally he heard a ding and the elevator doors slid open. He quickly walked inside and pressed the button to go to the recording booth. This studio was huge. It wasn't what Mike was used to. He was used to having a small, built-in studio that he would maybe have in an extra room in his house, but this was not like that. Here hundreds of people would record and mix hundreds of their own songs. As if they want to leave the comfort of their own home to this...tower. It was huge, and trust us, when we say huge, we mean HUGE. The elevator had almost 50 floors, if not more. What Mike didn't understand was how it looked so miniature from the outside.
The elevator stopped moving and Mike heard another ding, but this wasn't his floor. He groaned in frustration now that he had to wait longer to meet his idol, but he soon changed his mind as soon as he saw who entered the elevator.
“Hey, you Mike Shinoda?” asked the figure. Michael was too star struck to talk. There, stood right in front of him, in a small confined space with him, was Mr Marshall Bruce Mathers III. Yes, Eminem himself. Linkin Park had demands for them to do another mash-up like what they did with Jay-Z in 2004, and now their fans wanted the same with Eminem since many of them seemed to admire the rapper, and so did Michael. He was still shaking from the day they talked on the phone to ask if Marshall was up to it.
Michael felt himself open and close his mouth but no words came out. He felt like an idiot; it didn't take long until his cheeks resembled a tomato.
Marshall chuckled, “Take it easy man, I'm just Marshall Mathers.”
Michael didn't think Marshall knew what he just said. He's MARSHALL MATHERS. The genius behind Slim Shady and Shady Records. How could he keep calm?!
Marshall waved a hand in front of Michaels face when he saw him drift off into space. Marshall wondered what Michael was thinking about, but decided to leave it and just worry about getting to his floor.
Michael finally built up the guts to speak to Marshall, “Uhm... I really like your music.”
“Want to do a mash up sometime?” asked Michael with hope in his eyes.
“Isn't that what we're doing now?”
“Oh yeah.” Michael just couldn't stop making himself look like an idiot, couldn't he?
Finally they heard a ding and they were both on their floor. Marshall was first to step out of the elevator and Michael followed close behind. Chester was sitting in a swivel chair by the recording panel awaiting the two rappers. “About time.” He said.
“Sorry, there was traffic.” Mike explained. Chester nodded in understanding and called for the rest of the band to come and greet the two rappers.
The gang then started to appear out of random places. They waved a polite hello to Mike and moved to go and properly introduce themselves to Marshall. Once everything was done, they were all seated around the recording booth waiting to hear what the plan was for the album. Phoenix, Brad and Joe were seated upon the couch in the back of the room, and Mike and Marshall were sitting next to each other by the control panel. Chester decided to stand.
“Okay, so we already got that we're gonna use Em's verses and our chorus'. I'll sing the chorus alone with a bit of backup from Mike and Brad but Mike will mainly be rapping with Em. Now we just need to figure out which songs we're gonna use and we're halfway done with the album!” Chester exclaimed excitedly.
Marshall raised an eyebrow, “Wait, He's gonna rap with me?” He said pointing to Mike.
“Yeah, why?” asked Chester.
“Well, you think he can keep up with me? I heard a few Linkin Park songs, and he's okay, but do you think he can match me?” Marshall said.
Mike looked somewhat offended. How dare he!
“I'm pretty sure I can keep up.” Mike answered, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“Oh yeah, pretty boy?” Marshall smirked, “How about a battle?” He said as he was rising up a little from his seat.
Michael was speechless. He knew Marshall was one of the best and Mike was an excellent rapper himself, but a battle? He doesn't think he has the guts.
The rest of the band just sat comfortably on the couch and watched the scene before them. A battle between Mike and Marshall? Joe quickly got up and ran to get his camera, "this could make a great LPTV episode." He thought as he hit record.
The camera started rolling but Mike still hadn't given Marshall an answer. Marshall was growing impatient and started eyeing Mike silently telling him that he better answer soon or he'll call off the album. Mike caught every word and now was afraid to say no and disappoint his fans.
“Fine,” he finally agreed, “but it's your funeral, Mr Mathers.”
The rest of the band cheered and started Tweeting. As soon as there was enough people on their site Joe would broadcast this live without telling Mike. It was his revenge to Mike for eating his ham sandwich.
Both Emcees stood up straight and got ready to battle...
Shall I continue? Review and tell me :)