DT vs The Noise Beast
The sky over Meh Town cracked like a busted speaker — thunder shaking every window. A monster made of static, broken radios, and car alarms stomped into the streets. Everyone covered their ears.
“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH—” it screeched, shattering glass.
Gerald fell over instantly. “MY EARS— I CAN’T HEAR MY HAIRCUT ANYMORE!”
Meh looked around. “We need DT. Where’s he at?”
Out of the smoke, DT walked forward. Shades on. Slurpee in hand. Chains glinting. Zero fear.
“Step aside,” DT said calmly, “Noise is my language.”
The monster roared again. Everyone winced. But DT didn’t flinch. Instead, he pulled out two massive speakers from nowhere, slapped them down, and cranked the volume.
BOOOOM!
Bass so deep the ground shook. The Noise Beast staggered back, confused.
“Y’all hearing this?” DT shouted over the beat. “I’m about to drop the cure!”
He spun around, DJ-style, mixing the static monster’s screeches into the beat itself. Suddenly, the beast’s screams turned into rhythm — a fire track blasting across Meh Town.
The crowd went wild. Even Gerald started breakdancing (badly).
The monster? It froze. Then nodded its giant head to the beat. Then exploded into harmless confetti.
DT grabbed the mic. “That’s why I’m ranked number three. Don’t mess with my frequency.”
Meh sighed. “Bro just turned a monster fight into a block party.”
“Exactly,” DT smirked, sipping his Slurpee.
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