IT'S AN UGLY WORLD WE LIVE IN

UGLYWORLD - CASHED OUT

[BLOOD DIAMONDS 0:00]

You pull up the roller rink, "UGLYWORLD" ? Sort of a strange name but you heard it's the hottest event in town so why not.

The music is pumping through the doors before you even enter sharp glittery keys stab your cochlea. The doors open automatically while lights and weed smoke billow out.

[JAY HUMMINZ 0:14]

"Dirty Diana, sippin fanta, drinkin vodka eatin lobster" You came for a party but didn't expect something so lavish and gutter all at the same time, you appreciate the greeting as JAY HUMMINZ passes you a vodka shot and shrimp cocktail.

Melodic lines splash around like strobes to a disco ball while a sluggy bassline keeps the skaters in the rink in constant euphoric motion.

You walk over to rent some skates.

[227 Dior - 0:40]

"hold up baby, call my phone, why you alone? im not my clone, a change of clothes before i go to pick you up" The guy at the counter has a nametag that reads "227 Dior". He seems preoccupied chopping up a roller-ting off to the side of the counter and doesn't even look in your direction. A free hand extends to the shelf and throw you a pair of disco ball roller skates.

You're skeptical but lo - they fit perfectly. With no point of sale system in sight and seemingly not a person of interest, you make your way over to the side of the rink.

A gentleman with a massive forehead and chest hair pouring out of his miami vice inspired collar is already casually puffing a cigar leaning on the railing monologuing to anyone within ear shot: [UGGO - 1:48] "cashin checks bitch, all diamond records bitch, truck full of bitches, had to fuck around and get a CDL"

The stature definitely implies some sort of success and you choose not to argue or input as you make your way inside the rink. ".....i'm ignorin these bitches, i aint ever callin that bitch Anna....." You dont know the guy but you wave on your way past.

[PEPPERS 0:00]

Must be salsa night or something - Spanish guitars paint through the smoke. You slide onto the rink in your disco ball feet-chariots. It's pretty obvious at this point there isn't a smoke machine exactly, but uhh, several blunts in roller-rotation. Cool cool. [227 Dior - 0:24] "can you do it at my tempo? need you to go fast, then go slow, dont bounce no pogo, play with my balls like a yo-yo"

You're not sure what to make of the last part, but agree on the "no pogo" for today's activities.

[Babyherb - 2:12]

"D1 players only, UGLYWORLD is never phone, your baby daddy love me cuz it sounds like macaroni"

You were gonna shoot your shot but definitely feel your confidence waver in the presence of Babyherb.

When you moved into this neighborhood the realtor assured you it was on the right side of the tracks, but now you're thinking maybe this wasn't the best place to try and meet people.

[WHITE TEES 0:10]

"Mothafucka can you buy that?"

Not entirely sure how people here could be arguing about money but the pumping bassline quickly envelopes the entire parade and the whole mass-on-wheels seems to be throbbing like some sort of organic clock machine work.

[WHITE TEES - JAY HUMMINZ - 3:12]

"LEMME STIR IT IN YOUR POT - MACARONI // DONT BE ACTIN SALTY BITCH THIS MAC GOT PEPPERONI"

Yelling from the to-go counter serve kitchen penetrates through the rink but does nothing to rolling mob. UGLYWORLD is in some Pentecostal fever pitch if the congregation wore XXXL white tees and gold chains.

The fervor pumps through your body like an electric shot, you feel renewed and reborn. Sliding off the rink and in two quick whips of the wrist you toss your shoes back to the counter where 227 DIOR was.

Running back through the doors you came in, now barefoot and euphoric, you breathe almost as if for the first time "It's an UGLYWORLD we live in".

Cash Out with UGLYWORLD now