An Epistle From MC Poopy Pants

Yonder Listeners,

Hi-ho! It be I, MC Poopy-Pants! I scribe to thee to inform of an upcoming jobbly-jank at the local discotheque. I is performing the most street-liest of jams from your favorite artists like DJ Poppycock and OJ Freejuice. Come get wanky with a ladies and MC Poopy-Pants at a night for the generations!

Young chicks! Very old men! Sexy old ladies! All will be there with MC Poopy-Pants!

…but will you?

Accompanying me on the spinny-tables will be MC Pork-Chop, a large hairy man who smells like meat. He wrap-wrap-wrapity rap the most mentally ill of all record scratching and breaks it down freestyle about throwing infants at moving trains!

Don’t forget about those sexy old ladies!

Fizzle-fumbum! Hizzly-tops! Crap-a-diddly-ding-dong! MC Poopy-Pants has it all—

And will play it all with no reservations! This is not a threat.

So come to Club Humidifier, and for a $3 dollar and fifty pence cover fee, you can dance-it-away-for-the-time-of-your liiiiifeeeeeeee-a-ma-bob!

Cordantially,
MC Poopy-Pants