A fine spring afternevening was well underway when Our Hero, the lyrical wordsmith known to his beloved fans the world over as 50 Cent (prnounced affectionately as Fitty, naturally), did rise from his hard-earned slumber after a stimulating evening of playing his self-appellated visual game Blood on the Sand- in which, much like that most noble of role models, Conan, he did hear the lamentations of his enemies women and also did pop many caps in the asses of his enemies, those possessors of his bling-encrustedly glorious skull who mostly cowardly did hide behind the legal right of ownership when 'twas clear within their very genes that all bling must be tendered unto Fitty as is only his inalienable right. Also, hos. He did play this game, delighting in the crips dialogue and concisely raxzor-sharp storytelling, and lo, did he drink many a fawty, and perhaps some esoteric powders were consumed in nontraditional ways from upon the hinder quarters of what bitches may have been chosen from the modest but still enthusiastic shawties who regularly camped outside the tastefully appointed 40 karat golden gates of his princely abode. Also did he, the previous evening, not take his hard-earned rest until the birds were greeting the sun. Whereupon, bravely, did he shoot the birds and menacingly wave his mighty, nay, intimidatingly appointed manmeat in their direction, threatening them with too much Fitty for any one specias to handle. Arise, did he, and clambering over the still-abed hos of the previous evening did he stir them drowsily from their slumber, and they did inquire as to whe' he be gon'. Our Hero, feeling within himself the urgency of Natural Needs, tersely but still with the utmost courtesy replied that bitches must needs shut they mouves. Truly he is a renaissance man for these ages and those of our descendants. Btu all was not well, for upon completion of his unmentionable Processees, Out Hero did detect a hertofore unfamiliar sensation emanating from his Virile Loins. Having confirmed them to have been in *~EXCELLENT~* no I mean it like the languages of all the world have like NO WORDS to SAY how excellent like oh my god working order the previous evening and morning and then a little later inthe morning and like you get the idea but anyway man was a MAN you know what i'm sayin anyway He didst detect an unusual sensation about his nethers. Reaching one mighty but still tender hand into his Most August Shorts, a gravely upsetting surprise awaited him, yea, and all of the women of this land!

"WHA THA FUCK DIS ?"

did utter Our Imaginary Boyfriend, with admirable tonal control. For GASPSHOCK AWE, in the night did his Manly Apparatus mysteriously retract into his chiseled personage, leaving him with a MAGICAL MANGINA!

Also, it appeared to be kind of itchy.

"What the meanin' o'dis shixnit?" demanded Ouyr Hero, but alas, none could answer him. So displeased was he, mightily so, that he did hie his servants from their posts, bidding them make ready his ride that he might arrive at the center of healing known to the locals as Cedars Sinai.

Upon his admittance, hampered as it was by the unenlightened, Fitty was ushered to a rum which he dwarfed with his magnificence, but benevelolently did he deign to wait upon the convenience of the health care professional. Entr'd the doctod. "Whup ho," didst query Fitty with his manly hand in the cotton swabs. The doctor, a comely matron, didst playfully swat away Our Hero's hand from the previously sterile but of course it's still sterile for our Hero would not be so uncouth as to be infectious in any ways but those most virile cotton swabs, and directed out Mighty Ass-Tapper up onto the examination table. The majesty was revealed, and the doctro, after recovering from the shakes, the cold sweats, the admiring swooning, the naughty touching, the disrobing, the bitch-slapping, and the Shocker, did behold the MAGICAL MANGINA.

So she directed Fitty to lie back and put his feet in the stirrups, and forgot to the warm the speculum so Fitty had to beat a bitch, and the new doctor was an even hotter bitch and also used more lube. And then they gave him a paper smear and determined that he was pregnant even though Fitty dont' do no gay shit it was 'cause he had too much jozz for any one man and got himself pregnant when his body just couldn't handle it, y'all. And nine months later he had a magical assbaby that he named Quartuh the end.