A SCHOOL PLAYGROUND, TWENTY YEARS AGO
KID KOALA: Hey! Hey guys! Lookit this!
KK’s SCHOOLMATE 1: Aw no, it’s that weird kid. I say we ignore him.”
KID KOALA: Guys!! Look at me! Look!
KK’S SCHOOLMATE 2: Ah shit, we’d better see what he’s after!
(They troop over wearily)
KID KOALA: I can get my armpit to make a fartin’ noise! Woo hoo!
(He does so. SCHOOLMATES look at one another.)
KK’S SCHOOLMATE 1: Let’s beat the shit out of him.
KK’S SCHOOLMATE 2: Yup.
(They do.)
KID KOALA: Ow! Aaargh! Yaroop! Oof! Ow!
A COOL CLUB, NOW
KID KOALA: Yo, guys! Check it.
KK’S EX-SCHOOLMATE 1: Who is that doofus on the decks? Don’t I recognise him from somewhere…?
KK’S EX-SCHOOLMATE 2: We’d better see what he’s doing.
KID KOALA: I can get my turntable to sound just like a chicken, man!
(He does so. EX-SCHOOLMATES look at one another.)
KK’S EX-SCHOOLMATE 1: What is the fucking point of that?
KK’S EX-SCHOOLMATE 2: Let’s beat the shit out of him.
KID KOALA: Ow! O-o-o-o-ow! Aaaargh-gh-gh! Gh! Gh! Ow! Yaroof! Yaroof! Yaaaaaaarrrrrrrroooooooooofffffffff! (etc.)
THE MORAL: Turntablists never learn.