FP2: Beats of Rage

What remains of the ancient world

Has been ravaged by the Beat-Wars.

The blood sport "Beat-Beat Revelation"

has been forbidden in all civilized corners of the land.

But beyond civilization, in the ruins of the old world, lies The Wastes.

Where Beat-Beat Revelation is still the only way of life.

Where the ultimate prize is "The Quatro" or booze as it was once known.

Whoever controls the Quatro, controls the Wastes.

And only one Quatro Oasis remains...

But high up

atop Frazier Mountain

The FP.

One of the last remaining safe havens in the civilized world.

Where booze still flows like rivers.

This is your new home JTRO.

Rage and RE-NINJ come from the sky, JTRO.

From the Gods of the sky 'n shit.

But RE-NINJ is our god, ya heard?

But you must respect

The path to the true Beat-Beat Master comes with its ass a riddle.

And you must learn the riddle, JTRO.

The Riddle of RE-NINJ.

You must learn its discipline.

Someday these will be yours, son.

I've seen the future, JTRO.

And it's written in blood.

Yeah! Get him!

Whack! Stank!

Ahhh!

You're shit!

Fuck you!

187!

Haha! Did you see me knock him out?!

Did you see me knock him out?

Loser

Get outta here, you suck! You don't belong here!

You're a cunt-ass bitch!

Oh shit! Did you saw that shit?! Yeah, yeah! We saw that shit!

Beliee' dat shit!

Who let the dogs out? BLT let those motha fuckas out!

Whoop whoop! Post fight wrap up, up in here!

Yeuh!

That's my boy!

Whoo!

I told you, yo.

Aight. Y'all know the deal. Let's make with the booze. Chop chop.

Not so rapido.

Hya!

Mush!

Tune that vato up, AK!

Who the fuck is you?

That mother fucker just stood up!

I am a new challenger

And I await.

Oh shit.

Nah, son. Them ain't the rules.

Forkliff!

Silencio

Forkliff!

This is the Wastes, vato.

There is no rules.

Oh my god.

What the...

Fuck?

3...

2...

1...

Beat-Beat!

Sik! Sik!

Sik! Sik!

De-LOOXE! King Killa!

Whack! Stank!

Whoa! Tip Toes!

Tip Toes!

Floppy twat legs!

Awh, not floppy twat legs!

No! No!

Forkliff!

Toasty!

187!

Forkliff!

Alto!

The booze is mine!

Finish him!

I don't think BLT is getting up, yo.

AK-47 just

Get up, ninj.

just came in and huffed and puffed

Get up!

and blew that motha fuckas house down!

Fuckin' please!

JTRO. The Rage...

JTRO...

The rage...

Oh Forkliff!

Forkliff!

Look at me, puto.

The rage.

Oh no, no, no, no, no...

Look at me!

Yo soy El FP...

Is mine!

No!

JTRO!

You cunt!

Come on mother fucker!

Open up, bitch!

You got your period?!

Fuck!

You think that old dude is JTRO?

My mom said he's the reason we got all dem ducks.

Man, fuck ducks!

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Yeah. What the fuck?

The fuck you kids doing out there? Isn't it a school night?

I haven't got time for all them books 'n shit.

Quit stallin' gramps. Where's our shit?

Oh, right. You're the um

You're the kids with the skip-it. Right?

It's a bop-it, mother fucker!

It's the same shit isn't it?

What time is it?

What the fuck is this boo-shit?

It's a Beat-Beat Machine. What does it look like?

It's broke as fuck.

Yeah. Sometimes you gotta break something to fix it. Don't ya?

Shit I thought they destroyed all those cuz too many corn doggers was gettin' 187'd.

Not all of them.

Yo, what happened to this town back in the D? I mean our parents won't tell us shit.

Shit...

There was a war.

Did we win?

Mmm. Kinda.

Whatevs...

This corn butt's old ratchet ass can't play that shit.

Yeah? Here's your skip-it.

It's a bop-it, mother fucker!

Cool. Nine bucks. Cough it up.

Fuck it.

You's all just got hamilton'd.

Keep the change, grandpa.

Get the fuck outta here.

Go to school.

Take you to school in my pussy!

Jesus Christ.

Can you fuck it can you bop-it? Can you lick it, can you stick it?

What the fuck?

Motha fucka!

It's only a matter of time before smokin' all them baff salts catches up to a bitch.

It's hard gettin' a hold of your ass now that you been chillin' in the 245.

The 248's all dried up. Ain't no work there anymore.

Aint no work anywhere, yo.

Alright.

What is it this time, DC? Spit it out.

We gonna have to tag another deep six, yo.

Who is it this time?

BLT.

Dammit. I told him to cut out that Beat-Beat shit.

It's too dangerous.

That's life, JTRO. Sometimes you get cut.

No that shit's on him.

I told him to stop that Beat-Beat gamblin' booze bullshit out there.

I mean, that's why we dug the booze mines in the first place, right?

To leave the Beat-Beat bullshit behind us.

There's still plenty down there.

Open your fuckin' eye, JTRO.

The mines have run dry.

No more booze.

No one knows it yet. But by the next mo' suckin' full moon

The FP could run totes dry.

why do you always wait until the last fucking second

To tell me when something like this happens?

Cuz it's hard to find yo ass when you always livin' in the past, dawg!

It's over.

The FP is over.

DUN.

Dun.

Sometimes. You gotta burn the forest. So it can grow back twice as strong, yo!

Give it a rest, DC.

We're too fuckin' old for this shit.

Go home.

3...

2...

1...

Beat-Beat!

We roll together...

We die together...

Come on, bro. Get up!

Get up!

Get up, man.

187...

187, y'all.

BTRO got 187'd...

No!

I'll never play Beat-Beat Revelation again!

We're closed.

Yo, DC. Pick up.

Come on, dude. I know you're there.

Maholo. Over.

Stop crying, man. Look, I know how to save The FP.