You walk into the store completely pantless, but most people there are polite enough not to make a fuss about it.

    Most of the pants you see here are mighty fashionable, but carry a steep price.  You head toward the back to the clearance section, but even here the starting price of pants is about $10.

    After an hour or so, a saleswoman approaches you.

    "Can I help you find something, sir?" she asks.

    "Just lookin' for some pants to fit my budget," you say.  "And aren't gonna cost me a golden nugget."

    Just then another shopper turns to face you.

    "Hey, that was dope for a whitey," he says.

    It's Nate Dogg!

    You hadn't even meant to rhyme, but it just came naturally.

    "Yo, Nate, how you been since the G-Funk Era?" you ask him.  "By the way, you lookin' fly in that cashmere sweater."

    "Damn," says Nate.  "You're a natural.  What's yo' name, fool?"

    "B to the R to the A to the D," you respond.  "I'm known around the way as..."

    You hesitate for a second and then, "Brad G!"

    "I'ight, Brad G, I goin' to put you down on my new single 'Road to Compton Beach'.  You available for the video shoot in L. A. this Tuesday?"

    "Wurd," you say, exchanging a handshake and exiting.

    "Wow!" you say to yourself outside the store, "I never knew I was that dope."

    You drive home and head down to the basement to pack up your belongings.  You call Merv and tell him you're flying out to L. A. to shoot a video with Nate Dogg, but he doesn't believe a word of it.  You tell Poppy you're leaving, but he ignores you because Jeopardy is on.

    Just before you leave for the airport, you decide to call your nephew Brendan for some advice because he's the only other white guy in the family who's been in a rap band.  Brendan is too busy talking to Lila on his computer to really chat with you, but he gives you this advice:

    "Brad," he says.  "With a big enough 'fro, you can do anything."

    You make a note of that as you drive your van to Logan airport.  It's a red-eye flight, but that's all that was available.  You sleep through the inflight movie, Vendetta: a Christmas Story, and arrive in L. A. fully rested, and ready to rap.

    You meet Nate Dogg on the set, and he tells you:

    "I'ight, look.  I'mma rap the verse real shmoove there on the sidewalk.  After the chorus comes a l'il R&B cameo by Biv and DeVoe from BBD, then I wan'chu pop right outta the dumpster there and jus' hit me wit' tha flow, know wut I'm sayin'?"

    You nod.

    You are pulled over to a make-up booth by some assistants on the set.  They spray you with powder, then spend some time on your hair.  When they finish, you look in the mirror and see a 'fro you can be proud of.

    You get in place behind the prop dumpster and wait.

    The video goes smoothly.  Nate Dogg is in good form.  The guys from BBD are class.  Now comes your turn.  Your one big shot at the bigtime.  You wait for the beat, then pop up from the dumpster and launch into your rap:
 

    "Poppin' up frum tha dumpsta!
    I shake ya rumpsta!
    Wit' my big-ass 'fro like Herman Munsta!
    Gonna rock ya booty!
    I ain't black like Hootie!
    But I got more soul than tha king of Djibouti!
    Hey!  Ho!  What's that sound?
    Let me take a second and look down
    my pants, and good lord what do I see?
    Some crusty old lettuce: spells out 'BRAD G'!"

    Brad G is my name, and I don't wear pants
    Got more hair in my armpits than all the women in France
    Eat crusty lettuce and tofu by the pound
    When I'm maxin' in the basement I don't make a sound
    Got sista Pam, gave 'er a slam
    Now I gots to deal wit' a son named Sam
    Will I be dis fly when I turn eighty?
    Will I still be askin' 'how old is Katie?'
    Alls I know is one thing das true:
    I can rock a van like Captain Kangaroo!