It's Gonna Be Chris

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A Day in the Life of Chris Kirkpatrick

One day, a nice and crazy young man named Chris Kirkpatrick woke up and scratched his head.
"Hmm, there seems to be something wrong with my head. It feels so much heavier..." he thought.
Stumbling over to his dresser, he opened it and turned to see the mirror inside...
...And suddenly a bloodcurdling scream was wrenched from his lips by the horror of what his eyes beheld. The utter horrendousness of the sight, as if a frightful legion of the underworld dripped vile acid upon his utter being, was too much for Chris to withstand. His very soul still carries the fear of this very moment that was wrought upon him, the terror and ultimate depravity of it all...it was too much. Anyone would have felt the same feelings of total despair and hopelessness and defeat, if they were him at that moment staring into the mirror of which contained the horrendous sight. Lo, it was the very essence and fabric of which nightmares are carved.

"OH MY GOD MY DREDS ARE BACK!!! THE HORROR! THE HORROR!!! PLEASE NO I BEG OF YOU!"
...And Chris woke up from the frightful nightmare, the scream still upon his lips.
Still shaking from the utter horror of that sight, Chris quickly leaned across to grab the Emergency Hand Mirror Justin gave him for just this kind of dangerous situation. And thus he breathed a sigh of relief, for his hair was in the perfect, sexy condition it was meant to be. Chris silently cursed himself for losing that bet with Howie D and getting the dreds in the first place; Apparently the frightful experience has yet to heal its scars.
Calmed, Chris looked down at Busta, and noticed that his little puppy was not as wrinkly cute as he used to be. Concerned for the safety of the millions who would suffer if Busta was to turn uncute, impossible as the chances are, he decided to take Busta to the clinic to get more wrinkles in.
Along the way, he ran into Justin Timberlake, who was in his trademark ghetto ghettup. "Yo, whatup Chris!" said Justin. "I'm going to get that new *NSYNC album, you wanna come along?"
"Can't," replied Christopher sadly. "Today I have to go and take Busta to the clinic to get more wrinkles into his skin. Apparently he's not as wrinkly cute as he used to be; That is unacceptable."
"True," said Justin, and went on his way.
As he continued on his way, Chris happened upon an old friend by the name of Joseph Fatone Jr., mild mannered pimp daddy.
"Yo Joey, how's it shakin'?"
"Not very well, I'm afraid. I woke up today realizing that my solo in Blaque's new song is so much shorter than JC's, so I'm gonna go sing a longer one."
"It doesn't even sound like you," agreed Chris.
Suddenly, off in the distance, a dischordant scream is heard. Joey's eyes lit up.
"Some homies in distress!" Spotting a telephone booth nearby, Joey rushed into it. "This is a job for..."

Finally...

And Superjoey flew off, accidentally crashed into Michael J. Fox in his time machine, got up again, and flew off to save the day.
Continuing in his way, Chris ran into the Lanstenator himself, an emissary from the future who was sent back in time to bring forth the rebirth of country music(Or something). Chris noted with interest that the Lanstenator was trying to get his pet ferret down from a tree.
"Oh darn..." said the Lanstenator, "I can't get Dirk down from the tree!"
Chris was mystified. "How did he get up the tree in the first place?"
"Well, he's from Mississippi, too."
"Oh. That explains it. That explains a lot, actually...well, never fear!"
Chris pulled out his cell phone and made a quick call. In a matter of moments, the FumanSkeeto mascot showed up with a truckload of FumanSkeeto apparel. Working swiftly, Chris and the alien creature tied the clothes together to form one big blanket.

Fortunately, the Lanstenator was able to pull out of his Bart Simpson imitation and catch Dirk in time.
Proving once again that FumanSkeeto has one and many uses.
When Chris and Busta finally arrived at the clinic, he was alarmed to see another friend, Shazay, carted from an ambulance into the resident hospital.
"What's the situation on this one!?"
"Massive eye-damage and internal bleeding due to overexposure to unnaturally unseemly sights and intense neurological trauma due to extreme exposure to strobe-lighting. Whatever he experienced, it has left him in critical condition!"
"My God, what kind of abhorrent creation could have caused this!? Hurry, get him into the ER!"
"The...The One...The One...music...video..."
"What's he saying? Doctor, he's going into spasms!"
"Inject the drugs! Inject it quickly!"
"No, wait!" Chris cried, running after the cart, "That's gonna fuel those dang humor sites for months!"
After helping the weird doctors cart JC off, Chris went to the hospital cafeteria to buy some French Fries, because French Fries are the best stuff on Earth next to combination fried rice. After a moment's glance at the fries, however...ewwwwwwww! The fries were covered in spittle!
Knowing that there was only one person in the world annoying enough to pull this off, Chris turned to the counter, and indeed, there he was: The evil M&M!

Knowing that he couldn't very well let M&M go on spitting in the French fries of the world, which would be pure blasphemy, Chris thought fast.

So Chris went home, satisfied that he did good work for the day. But he felt that there was something he'd forgotten to do...something very important about this one day...what could it be?
Suddenly, all the lights in the room switched on.
"SURPRISE!"
Congratulations to Chris and *NSYNC for making it this far! The second string of the NSA concert starts today, good luck guys:)!
Awwwwwwwww...go on, don't stop now!
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