Employment in Arcadia can be a hard thing to come by.
That bein’ said – there is one established employer in this town who always leaves his back door open for fresh young talent to come aboard his tanker.
For an enterprise of such enormity as his, one can only imagine the scale of its workin’ community.
There’s the creative hands; the machine operatives who use all the fine ingredients at their disposal to concoct da tastiest sweets credits can buy.
There’s the quality control experts; the cross-examiners who sample da produce to ensure it meets strict industry standards such as safety, hygiene, and flavour.
And there’s the supply assistants; the large group of men under the man at the top, packin’ the finished articles up for distribution around Arcadia.
Whilst a relatively unskilled role, this is considered to be one of the most important functions on the production line.
The more efficient these lowly employees are at squeezin’ fudge into the boss’ little brown boxes, the wider it makes that jobby jabbin’ motherfucker smile.
Ay yo, Teddy – there’s a strong rumour goin’ around that you and I are gonna be bandin’ together at Warforge, ya hear?
Now don’t get me wrong; under any normal circumstances you would be just the kind of tag team partner I’d want standin’ behind me in my corner.
All that recent carry on you pulled with Drewitt and his mutt? That kinda shit gets me harder than dat steel chamber Zeus has constructed for us with his bare fuckin’ hands.
But here’s the thing, Edward.
If we can’t put aside our differences and get ourselves on the same page before Warforge, we won’t conquer the chamber that environs us.
With my flair for imagination, I could take control of Hephaestus’ machinery like one of your creative hands and deliver the goods for us.
With all the quality control expertise I possess, I could guarantee to bring all the right flavours to Warforge to get a motherfucker like you aroused.
My only concern, Teddy Bear, is that you’ll get too fuckin’ excited and try and ride the hershey highway in a nigga’s backdoor, ya feel me?
And as a man that likes to play things straight down the line, I can’t be leavin’ anything like that to chance.
So I tell you what I’m goin’ to do, dawg; I’m gonna give your white ass a chance to prove itself on Monday night.
To demonstrate to ol’ Drexl that you’re not like one of those Peter Puffin’ fudge packers you have workin’ for you back at H-fuckin-Q.
All you need to do is turn up to Clash 111 and show me you don’t need lockin’ up in the closet like one of your shirt liftin’ packin’ boys.
You come at me from across that steel cage swingin’, and you dispel all the hearsay bein’ bandied around about what really goes on behind those factory doors.
Bring it harder at me than you ever have, home slice; give it your best fuckin’ shot.
Cos if you and I are gonna get the job done at Warforge, Teddy Bear…
It won’t be for dancin’ the chocolate cha-cha with your white ass, ya feel?