Jun-Jun and Quisty Get a Flat

Street art by Lélé

“Don’t sit there!

You’ll break my antique chair!”

shrieks Céline.


Jun-Jun leaps up

“I don’t like it here.

Is this where we’re going to live, ma chère?”


Quisty turns and says, “Chill.

Céline’s a little high-maintenance

but won’t be making this her residence.”


“So what do we do to earn our keep?”

Jun-Jun wonders aloud. “Rent’s a bit steep.

We haven’t played a gig in over a week.”


“Our manager has everything under control,”

Quisty announces. “Demi’s out on parole.

Gun incident dropped, he’s on party patrol.”


“Since when is he our manager? Did I sign something?”

Jun-Jun explodes: “I refuse to be his plaything.

Do I look like a rapper? I’ll not croon like Drake.”


“You won’t have to do anything fake.

And look who just blew into town

to shape you with a fitted gown.”


“All included in your name brand,

earthy cosmetics, mostly sand,

esthetics for your back-up band.”



“Mamadou from Mali will clothe you in black shirts

dress you in his African skirts.

doll you up with L’Oréal.”


“We’ve lived on a tree stump, we’re used to boreal.

Never used costumes! No rouge, no powder.

our green and purple polka-dotted skins make us all the prouder.”


“My stage name, Quistedelic.”

“And mine, Fun-Fun.”

We sing like Funkadelic.


“I ain’t no rapper, no “Gun -Gun.”

We sing to spread some musical balm

not to light a lyrical bomb.”



Demiurge swaggers into Céline’s décor

snorts his “Just-in” party uproar,

and like a slo-mo crash cracks the Chair!

Céline goes nuts– I’ve never heard her swear.


“Out, right now, you lout.”

“Calm down, little lady…”
“Je… Suis ...CALME! No doubt

I’ll bust your freakin’ snout.”


With a crazed grin and armed to the max,

she comes back with her throwing axe.

“Whoa! Whoa! This is getting serious.”


She winds up with an eye that’s bilious:

“I’ll give you three steps to get out the door.

After that, your head’s on the floor.”


“Can she do it?” Demi asks Robert.

“Why don’t you find out? I’m no expert.

She’s a doer, not a braggart.



Fun-Fun sings to the beat… 

The most funky music got what it takes
To groove you some time

My Quistedelic… She’s a big ol’ freak, the girl’s a big ol’ freak
She’s the freak of the week


Your Fun-Fun… Ants in my pants and I need to dance
I got ants in my pants and I need to dance


Robert, softly to Céline: “Put down your axe.

You had your chance to launch your thwacks.

Now’s the time to drop your whacks.”


And Nikki– where did SHE  come from? A dance floor?–

tells Demi about the best weed store

as she lures him out Céline’s door.


“We’ve expelled the snotty beastie,”

with Fun-Fun’s funky mode.

“Now I’ll tame the screwy sweetie,

with Quistedelic shimmy,

and Quisty’s feisty ode.”

Musical credits: (Not Just) Knee Deep by Funkadelic.

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