I Think About This A Lot: The Time Ice-T Beat My Ass In A Checkers

My therapist is tired of hearing about this, so I submitted this to FLEXX and am thankful for a new platform to unpack this incredible predicament. It was a cold rainy day and as my high-ass got off the J train at Myrtle Broadway, the red glow of the godly sign hit me. I decided I deserved to have some delicious seasoned fries. I ordered my fries and left. As I walked down Myrtle Ave, I devoured the fries, fingers still raw from contact with the hot grease.

Perhaps I was too high because seconds after finishing the fries, I had forgotten I ate them. What good is getting the world’s best fries if you don’t even remember what they taste like? I about-faced and walked back into the Checkers. I went straight for the counter. “Can I get an order of Medium fries plea-”

“AYE”.

I heard a voice from behind me. “DON’T YOU SEE I AM ABOUT TO ORDER? YO’ BITCH ASS JUST CUT ME”.

I turned to see a high, redbone man in his 50s with a ponytail. He was dressed like he was in The Matrix but his hair looked like it was Coming to America. I assumed he just worked at my neighborhood botanica and kept it moving. “Chill, Papa” I said, “Those candles and beads will take care of themselves.”

“BEADS?!”

He turned around and punched me right in the throat. “Do you know who I am, Motherfucker?”

When I heard that first “motherfucker,” I knew it was Ice-T himself. At that precise moment, I knew I was about to get fucked up.

Ice-T went undeniably H.A.M on me. As he was stomping on my stomach, I couldn’t help but think about how I got here. When he grabbed my fro and yanked it I thought to myself, “What is a man with a syndicated TV show on multiple networks doing at the Myrtle-Broadway Checkers?”.

As he “slapped the black out of me,” I became angry that I ate half an edible gummy, smoked a joint and then shotgunned a “road” PBR at Joey’s house. While he straddled me and punched my jaw to Timbuktu, I was scared that I would never be able to taste the savory cajun seasoning of Checkers’ fries again and how greed got the better of me.

Detective Tutuola held me in a figure-four leglock until the police arrived. My limp body laid there as I pondered every single decision I had made in life and how it all led to this moment. The first became so concerning that even the teens stopped filming and erased the footage.

“Enough!” shouted the homeless who slept there every night. “Ice-T, please let him go.”

Even though the cops saw me beaten to a pulp, they let Ice-T off with a warning. “We love SVU, Ice!” said one cop. “Huge fans,” said the other. Sayeed the Cashier felt so bad for me that he gave me a funnel cake and an apple pie for free. He said he hasn’t seen someone beaten that badly since last earlier that afternoon.

I don’t know if I can show my face back at that Checkers (or any Checkers for that matter). Honestly, I don’t know if I can ever watch the USA Network again. The one thing I do know: I am forever a changed person.