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eilonwyhasemuPreviously, David Cook, Lee DeWyze, Adam Lambert, Ke$ha, and the Followills' neglected Rock Cred had penetrated to the eighth circle of hell, where they discovered that the Giant Cook Baby has a true foodie's appreciation of organ meats.
Giant Cook Baby: You're also too delicate to survive without this!
It yanks out Cook's liver and dangles it in the air above their heads.
GCB: Yummy!
Ke$ha: Ew! That's offal.
Cook: Can't we work out a compromise?
Lambert: I think the moment for that was before you started arguing with it.
Cook [to Lambert]: Like you were the soul of tact with yours--
Lambert: My alter-ego worked on the theory of 'rip first, ask later.'
DeWyze: So do our alter-egos act like us?
Cook: No. I hate liver.
Ke$ha: Even with bacon?
Cook: In every possible configuration except in my body where it can digest my PBR when I'm losing one of Danielisrad's drinking games.
Giant Cook Baby [sings]: I am a sensitive artist. I am a sensitive artist.
Cook: I'm rapidly becoming an incensed artist.
GCB [sing-speaking]: Nobody understands me because I am so deep. In my works, I make allusions to books that nobody else has read.
Cook: I think you have me confused with Neal Tiemann. He's the one who puts in the incomprehensible allusions.
DeWyze: Aren't those usually to drinks and zombie movies?
Ke$ha: How have I not met this guy?
Cook: He's taken.
DeWyze: By a burlesque artist.
Ke$ha: Do you dudes think of everything in terms of sex? I meant--
Lambert: Yes.
Ke$ha: Yes, what?
Lambert: Yes, we do think of everything in terms of sex.
Ke$ha: I meant he'd be interesting to write songs with.
Cook: Could we get back to the matter at hand?
GCB [sing-speaking]: I can't help it because I am so much more intelligent and well-rounded than everyone who surrounds me.
Followills' Rock Cred: Sounds just like Caleb. Or maybe Jared.
GCB [sing-speaking]: I am a sensitive artist. I am a sensitive artist. I stopped watching TV when I was six months old because it was so boring and stupid and started reading books and going to art galleries--
Cook [rapping]: My name is Shaka-Zula, the mic-rulah, the old schoolah--
Lambert: I don't think giving a false name is going to help--
Cook: Ya wanna trip? I'll bring it to ya. Frylock and I'm on top--
DeWyze [to Lambert]: Dude. Don't you get the Cartoon Network at that fancy hotel of yours?
Ke$ha: I totally envy T-Pain getting to be on that show.
GCB [sing-speaking]: And I don't go to art galleries any more because there are people there. And I can't deal with people because they don't understand me. [It waves the liver in a menacing manner.]
Cook [rapping]: Rock you like a cop. Meatwad you up next with your knock-knock. Meatwad make the money, see. Meatwad get the honeys, G.
Lambert: What does that even mean?
GCB [sing-speaking]: I stay home, reading books that are beneath me--
Cook [rapping]: Drivin in my car, livin' like a star. Ice on my fingers and my toes and I'm a Taurus.
Lambert: Please. You are so not living the Hollywood high life.
DeWyze [to Lambert]: Dude. You don't think making the Celtics-Lakers game is the high life?
GCB [sing-speaking]: --and working on my work, which no one understands. I am a sensitive artist--
Cook [rapping]: Make the homies say "ho!" and the girls wanna scream! [speaking] Now, since you're out of verses, how about I get my liver back?
Lambert: I don't remember that rule.
Cook [to Lambert]: It's worth a try. [to the Giant Cook Baby] Stand and de-liver!
GCB: I won't!
Cook: You will! Come to Daddy!
Ke$ha: Momma needs a new pair of spleens.
Cook: Don't give it ideas. [to the GCB] Just hand it to me--
Lambert: Ew!
GCB: I won't!
Cook: You'll feel better afterward--
GCB: I won't! [sings]: I won't grow up! I don't want to wear a tie.
Cook: Hey, I like ties. And suits. Hugo Boss is boss.
GCB [sings]: And a serious expression in the middle of July--
DeWyze [sings]: In the middle of July!
Ke$ha [elbowing DeWyze]: Don't help it!
GCB [sings]: And if it means I must prepare to shoulder burdens with a worried air, I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up, not me, not I, not me! Never gonna be a man, I won't!
Lambert: That's what you get for throwing cartoon themes at it.
Cook [sings]: How many roads must a man walk down before they call him a man?
GCB [sings]: I won't grow up. I'll never penny pinch. I'll never grow a mustache or a fraction of an inch.
Cook: Hey! I'm good at mustaches.
DeWyze: He's good at losing bets about mustaches.
Ke$ha: What is it with the man-boy crap, anyway?
DeWyze: What is it with the sexy schoolgirl crap, anyway?
Ke$ha: Excuse me. That's Britney Spears. I'm surprisingly unsexy.
DeWyze: That's what she said.
GCB [sings]: 'Cause growing up is awfuller than all the awful things that ever were. I'll never grow up, never grow up--
Cook [raps]: It's time to come up and hold my own weight, defend my crown. Gots to lock it down and when they rush, stand my ground.
Ke$ha: Right. And then the only alternative to man-boy is to be a gangsta.
DeWyze: Like the only alternative to acting like a slut is--
Lambert: Jordin Sparks.
GCB [sings]: We won't grow up! We'll never grow a day--
Cook [sings]: What does it take to be a man? What does it take to see it's all heart and soul and a gentle hand?
Ke$ha: Being a man means not singing glurge like that.
GCB [sings]: I won't grow up! No, I promise that I won't! I will stay a boy forever--
Cook [sings]: What does it take to be a man? The will to give and not receive. The strength to say what you believe--
GCB: Erp! Eep!
Cook: Can't handle the schlocky stuff, can you?
GCB: [spits up]
Cook: Can't take singing something with saccharine lyrics and indifferent musical structure, can you?
GCB: [spits up]
Cook: You could never have survived American Idol. I did.
Lambert [sings]: You'll make it through the pain, weather the hurricanes, to get to that one thing.
DeWyze [sings]: Your heart is a bloom, shoots up through the stony ground--
Cook: I want my liver back. Now.
GCB [waves liver in a menacing manner]: No.
Cook: No? No is not the answer. What do you think you're doing with my liver anyway?
GCB: I'm waving it in a menacing manner.
Cook: Ah.
GCB: You're supposed to feel intimidated.
Cook: Oh.
GCB: You're not going to survive without your liver.
Cook: You don't have a use for it. You might as well give it back.
GCB: No!
Cook: You know you really want to. You don't like stealing livers. They're messy and icky and taste dreadful, even with bacon.
GCB: No?
DeWyze: He's weakening.
Cook: I told you I could befriend anything. [to GCB] What are you, anyway? We know you're not a fan projection--
Followills' Rock Cred: He's part of you.
Cook: The only part of me attached to him is my liver.
FRC: He's the versions of you that you've put out there in the media.
Cook: Huh?
Lambert: The teary-eyed stuff when Simon praised you--
Cook: Dude. It's our dad's generation that was too tough to show emotion.
FRC: The tweets about your tummy troubles--
Cook: Oh, please. I wanted fans to know why they weren't getting red-carpet pictures from that shindig in Arizona.
Ke$ha: Poor, poor baby!
Cook: Kelly Clarkson said she'd had to go to six stores to find the right shoes, and if I vomited on them, she'd make me lick them clean.
DeWyze: Do not tangle with the Clarkson!
Lambert: That teary-eyed stuff when you won--
Cook: Dude. Everybody cries when the win. "Wimpy" is crying if you don't win.
DeWyze: You looked like a stuffed moose when Simon told you you'd blown the finale.
Cook: Stuffed moose don't cry.
GCB [sings]: Is this the moment when I look you in the eye? Forgive my broken promise that you'll never see me cry?
Cook: Mourning the death of a family member is hardly unique proof of sensitivity.
Ke$ha: Did you know you get pompous when you're uncomfortable?
Cook: Yes.
Lambert: You did share it with your fans.
Cook: One f*cking blog. One f*cking blog and one f*cking press statement because it happened the f*cking weekend of the race.
GCB [sings]: And everything, it will surely change, even if I tell you I won't go away today. Will you think that you're all alone--
Cook: I didn't talk about every gruesome detail of what it was like. Not even when that asshole Larry King tried to nail me on live television. I didn't live-tweet the funeral.
GCB [sings]: When no one's there to hold your hand, when all you know seems so far away--
DeWyze: Were you even on Twitter then?
Cook: That's beside the f*cking point. I made one statement that asked for privacy. I made one statement that encouraged fans in contributing to cancer research. That's it. That's all.
FRC: People related to it.
Cook: People related to it because it happens to a lot of people.
Lambert: You wrote a song about it.
Cook: No sh*t, Sherlock. I wrote more than one song about it. You know why that kind of song works?
GCB [sings]: And everything is temporary, rest your head--
Cook: That kind of song doesn't work because I'm having some f*cking unique experience that nobody else is sensitive enough to get. It works because it's f*cking universal. Everybody experiences it.
GCB [sings]: I'm permanent.
Ke$ha: You don't think there are people who run from that kind of loyalty?
Cook: I know there are. But it speaks to who people want to be and try to be and work to be and hope to be, and that's why it f*cking works. Not because I'm the only person who ever did it. Not because I'm the only person who ever felt it. Not because I need some kind of special sympathy for my unique suffering. But because a whole lot of people have felt roughly the same way.
GCB [sings]: Will you think that you're all alone when no one's there to hold your hand?
DeWyze: Nobody else wrote the song, though.
Cook: That's about having the f*cking vocab and the musical chops to express the feeling. It doesn't prove I'm sensitive. It proves I'm f*cking halfway decent at my f*cking job. Also, I know what "serendipity" means.
Lambert: How'd you get all the way through Idol without dropping the f-bomb?
Cook: Iron self-control. [to GCB] Now, hand over my f*cking liver!
GCB: No!
Cook [sings]: I've got questions for you. You've got answers untrue--
GCB: You haven't begun to ask the right questions.
Cook [sings]: Find a new way to feel right, between this and a fist fight--
GCB: You wouldn't hit a baby!
Cook: Watch me. Give me back my liver. [sings] Is it a labor just to see around the left, the right over my head--
GCB: Time for din-din!
Cook: You're not a projection of my fans' needs, so you don't have anybody to feed it to.
GCB: Don't I? Baby needs a new pair of shoes!
DeWyze: Oh, sh*t.
The ground sprouts with tiny people, legions of them, some with cameras, some with signs, some hauling news reporting equipment, all of them wearing capes emblazoned with a stylized DC.
Ke$ha: It's like that army--
GCB: They're here to save you!
Cook: From what?
GCB: From Simon Cowell--
Cook: Long gone.
GCB: From girlfriends--
Cook: Classified!
GCB: From your record label--
Cook: The one that's actually been listening to me during meetings? The one that's planning a big launch for my album? That label?
GCB: From your tattooed friends--
DeWyze: Hey, what's wrong with tattoos?
Ke$ha: I don't know. Let's see yours and find out.
GCB: From loneliness--
Cook: Lonely? I live with a bunch of tattooed friends--
GCB: From yourself. [sings] Mother, do you think they'll drop the bomb? Mother, do you think they'll like the song? Mother, do you think they'll break my balls?
DeWyze: He said "balls"!
Ke$ha: He's British. They talk like that.
GCB [sings]: Mother, should I build a wall?
Lambert: My management asks that sometimes. Usually right after I've tweeted something embarrassing.
GCB [sings]: Mother, should I run for President? Mother, should I trust the government?
Cook: Sh*t, my mom's still choking on how California's voters can pass propositions that conflict with each other.
Tiny Voices: We're like family to you! Family!
GCB [sings]: Mother, will they put me on the firing line? Is it just a waste of time?
Cook: My brother Andrew is family to me. I mostly give him sh*t and make him clean up after the dogs.
DeWyze: I thought you had a lawn service--
Cook: Only once a week. Haven't you noticed it gets hot in Southern California?
Tiny Voices: Your sh*t don't stink!
Cook: Dublin's and Mr. Sixx's sure does.
Tiny Voices [singing]: Hush now, baby, don't you cry! Mama's gonna make all of your nightmares come true. Mama's gonna put all of her fears into you--
Cook: You know what's on my bucket list? Sky-diving.
Tiny Voices [singing]: Mama's gonna keep you right here under her wing. She won't let you fly but she might let you sing--
Cook [sings]: I'd like to introduce Mr. Sensitive, who never let the worst get the best of him.
Tiny Voices [singing]: Of course Mama's gonna help build the wall.
GCB [sings]: Mother, do you think she's good enough for me? Mother do you think she's dangerous to me?
Cook [sings]: Day in and day out, watch him scream, watch him shout, through the silence--
GCB [sings]: Mother, will she tear your little boy apart? Mother, will she break my heart?
Cook [sings]: Give him ears, give him eyes, give some point to the cries and the violence, oh the violence--
Tiny Voices [singing]: Hush now, baby, don't you cry--
Cook [sings]: Hear him scream your name! [He bends down to look one of the tiny people in the eye.] What's your name?
Person: DCforMe52.
Cook: Your real name.
Person: My real--
Tiny Voices [singing]: Mama's gonna check out all your girlfriends for you--
Cook: Your real name. Is it Sue? Jane? Patricia?
Person: Velma.
Ke$ha: I can see why she's not using it.
Cook: Velma, why are you here?
Tiny Voices [singing]: Mama's gonna make all of your nightmares come true. Mama's gonna put all of her fears into you--
Velma: I'm here because you need me.
Cook: That's right. I need you. Do you know what I need you for?
Tiny Voices [singing]: Mama's gonna keep you right here under her wing. She won't let you fly--
Cook: I need you to be you. Do you know how I feel when people make fun of my fans?
Velma: Hurt?
DeWyze: I thought you weren't doing the hyper-sensitive thing?
Cook: Dude. It's not hyper-sensitive to dislike gossiping and backbiting. [to Velma] What's important to you in life?
Velma: You!
Tiny Voices [singing]: Mama's gonna check out all your girlfriends for you. Mama won't let anyone dirty get through.
Cook: What else?
Velma: Your music!
Cook: What else?
Tiny Voices [singing]: Mama's gonna wait up till you get in. Mama will always find out where you've been.
Velma: Weelllll...
GCB [sings]: Mother, do you think they'll like the song?
Velma: My kids are awfully cute.
Cook: I'll bet they are.
Velma: Last week, I beat my best time in a half-mile run.
Cook: That felt great, didn't it?
Velma: Hurt for days, actually. I went to a really great show by a local band last week. [She has expanded to Barbie size.]
Cook: That's more than I got out. Between rehearsals for the next live show and finishing touches on the album--
Velma: My vegetable garden's going to be great this year if it ever stops snowing. I've been working on it because I'm stressed over my mom's illness. [She's headed for American Girl size. Around her, other tiny people are announcing their interests to one another and starting to grow.]
GCB [sings]: Mother, do you think they'll break my balls?
Velma: My boss says I'd be up for promotion if our budgets weren't so tight. I could use the money, but then I look at the situation in Wisconsin and I think about the people who don't have jobs or health insurance--
GCB [sings]: Mother, should I run for President?
Velma: [to GCB] Oh, grow up! [to Cook] Not enough people even look at the issues before voting, and then we get this "take back America" stuff taking away even basic benefits, and people are out there with needs--
Cook: I know. You figure health care and schools--
Velma: Sometimes it makes me so mad that I want to explode!
And she does. Not messily. She just vanishes with a gentle pop.
Cook: What the f*ck? I didn't... I thought...
FRC: She's gone back to where she came from. [Lights a fresh ciggie.]
GCB [sings]: Mother, will they put me in the firing line?
Second Person [roughly three feet tall now and feisty]: I'm Wilma. Don't you need our help?
Cook: That part's easy. Buy my new album. Tell a friend about it. Catch a few shows. Bring your husband. Better yet, bring your sons.
Wilma: I only have daughters.
Cook: Bring your daughters' boyfriends.
Wilma: One's a lesbian. The other wants to become a nun. Do you know how frustrating teenagers are?
Cook: Start a friggin' Boy Scout troop, then, and bring it. Train 'em for Race for Hope. That cause is important to me.
Wilma: I'm trying kick-boxing at the gym because some days, I just want to smash something. [She is now chest high.]
GCB [sings]: Is it just a waste of time?
Cook: Oh, and buy merch. Merch has great margins.
Wilma: Speaking of merch, I've been doing some designs for a local charity-- [She pops.]
Cook: This city feels low against the gleam and the glow of his diligence to their elegance.
GCB [sings]: Mother, do you think they'll drop the bomb? Mother, do you think they'll like the song?
Around the GCB, tiny people are expanding and popping like bubbles in the sunlight.
Cook [sings]: Just feel anger, feel pain, feel the sun and the rain. Just feel something. Oh, feel something.
GCB [sings]: Mother, do you think they'll break my balls? Mother, should I build the wall?
Cook [sings]: I would like to introduce Mr. Sensitive, who never let the worst get the best of him.
GCB [sings]: Is it just a waste of time?
The popping has reached the velocity of bubble wrap in the aftermath of Christmas. No tiny voices respond to the Giant Cook Baby.
Cook [sings]: Take all the stones, the bricks and the bones.
GCB [sings]: Is it just a waste of time? [He is shrinking and losing his baby-like characteristics.]
Cook [sings]: He didn't stand a chance, they said!
GCB [sings]: Is it just a waste of time?
The Giant Cook Baby is alone.
Cook [sings]: I would like to introduce Mr. Sensitive, who never let the worst get the best of him. [to the GCB] May I have my liver back?
GCB: What's the magic word?
Cook: Please.
The GCB is now identical to Cook except that it's wearing only a diaper. It shoves the liver back into his body.
Cook: Thank you.
DeWyze: Hell of an outfit.
Cook: I've worn worse for Hallowe'en. [He holds out a hand to the GCB.] You know the drill.
GCB [sings]: Mother, did it need to be so hard?
It steps forward and fades into the real Cook, who shudders once from head to toe.
Cook [to the FRC]: Okay. Next level?
FRC: This way.
It stubs out its ciggie and leads the way to a broad stone stair seemingly indistinguishable from every other broad stone stair in the depths of hell. The others follow him. As they descend, a hum of voices starts.
Lambert [to Cook]: Why the hell did that song work? It's about being sensitive.
Ke$ha: It's about the importance of feeling. As soon as he got the tiny people to feel for themselves, they didn't need his liver.
Cook: Told you befriending people was the way to go. That, and there's the chorus--
Lambert: He never let the worst get the best of him--
Cook: Diaper dude's telling me I can't survive because I'm so f*cking sensitive. He has no logical response to the argument that feeling is what lets a person survive.
DeWyze: Dude.
The stair ends in a courtyard full of flitting insects. Ke$ha and Lambert swat at them. The FRC is unaffected.
Cook: I warned him it was all about the f*cking vocab.
The cause of the insect invasion is an elaborate and murky fountain in the center of the courtyard. Its stone is heavily ornamented with gargoyles, demons, and musical instruments. Its water is green and gooey.
Ke$ha: Oh, look. More mud to be head-down in.
FRC: This one's head up, actually. He's a talky one.
The figure chained in the center of the fountain is wreathed in vile yellow mist. Even partly obscured, he seems vaguely familiar.
Lambert: Ken Warwick?
DeWyze: Now this is a scene I can get behind.
TO BE CONTINUED.
Giant Cook Baby: You're also too delicate to survive without this!
It yanks out Cook's liver and dangles it in the air above their heads.
GCB: Yummy!
Ke$ha: Ew! That's offal.
Cook: Can't we work out a compromise?
Lambert: I think the moment for that was before you started arguing with it.
Cook [to Lambert]: Like you were the soul of tact with yours--
Lambert: My alter-ego worked on the theory of 'rip first, ask later.'
DeWyze: So do our alter-egos act like us?
Cook: No. I hate liver.
Ke$ha: Even with bacon?
Cook: In every possible configuration except in my body where it can digest my PBR when I'm losing one of Danielisrad's drinking games.
Giant Cook Baby [sings]: I am a sensitive artist. I am a sensitive artist.
Cook: I'm rapidly becoming an incensed artist.
GCB [sing-speaking]: Nobody understands me because I am so deep. In my works, I make allusions to books that nobody else has read.
Cook: I think you have me confused with Neal Tiemann. He's the one who puts in the incomprehensible allusions.
DeWyze: Aren't those usually to drinks and zombie movies?
Ke$ha: How have I not met this guy?
Cook: He's taken.
DeWyze: By a burlesque artist.
Ke$ha: Do you dudes think of everything in terms of sex? I meant--
Lambert: Yes.
Ke$ha: Yes, what?
Lambert: Yes, we do think of everything in terms of sex.
Ke$ha: I meant he'd be interesting to write songs with.
Cook: Could we get back to the matter at hand?
GCB [sing-speaking]: I can't help it because I am so much more intelligent and well-rounded than everyone who surrounds me.
Followills' Rock Cred: Sounds just like Caleb. Or maybe Jared.
GCB [sing-speaking]: I am a sensitive artist. I am a sensitive artist. I stopped watching TV when I was six months old because it was so boring and stupid and started reading books and going to art galleries--
Cook [rapping]: My name is Shaka-Zula, the mic-rulah, the old schoolah--
Lambert: I don't think giving a false name is going to help--
Cook: Ya wanna trip? I'll bring it to ya. Frylock and I'm on top--
DeWyze [to Lambert]: Dude. Don't you get the Cartoon Network at that fancy hotel of yours?
Ke$ha: I totally envy T-Pain getting to be on that show.
GCB [sing-speaking]: And I don't go to art galleries any more because there are people there. And I can't deal with people because they don't understand me. [It waves the liver in a menacing manner.]
Cook [rapping]: Rock you like a cop. Meatwad you up next with your knock-knock. Meatwad make the money, see. Meatwad get the honeys, G.
Lambert: What does that even mean?
GCB [sing-speaking]: I stay home, reading books that are beneath me--
Cook [rapping]: Drivin in my car, livin' like a star. Ice on my fingers and my toes and I'm a Taurus.
Lambert: Please. You are so not living the Hollywood high life.
DeWyze [to Lambert]: Dude. You don't think making the Celtics-Lakers game is the high life?
GCB [sing-speaking]: --and working on my work, which no one understands. I am a sensitive artist--
Cook [rapping]: Make the homies say "ho!" and the girls wanna scream! [speaking] Now, since you're out of verses, how about I get my liver back?
Lambert: I don't remember that rule.
Cook [to Lambert]: It's worth a try. [to the Giant Cook Baby] Stand and de-liver!
GCB: I won't!
Cook: You will! Come to Daddy!
Ke$ha: Momma needs a new pair of spleens.
Cook: Don't give it ideas. [to the GCB] Just hand it to me--
Lambert: Ew!
GCB: I won't!
Cook: You'll feel better afterward--
GCB: I won't! [sings]: I won't grow up! I don't want to wear a tie.
Cook: Hey, I like ties. And suits. Hugo Boss is boss.
GCB [sings]: And a serious expression in the middle of July--
DeWyze [sings]: In the middle of July!
Ke$ha [elbowing DeWyze]: Don't help it!
GCB [sings]: And if it means I must prepare to shoulder burdens with a worried air, I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up, not me, not I, not me! Never gonna be a man, I won't!
Lambert: That's what you get for throwing cartoon themes at it.
Cook [sings]: How many roads must a man walk down before they call him a man?
GCB [sings]: I won't grow up. I'll never penny pinch. I'll never grow a mustache or a fraction of an inch.
Cook: Hey! I'm good at mustaches.
DeWyze: He's good at losing bets about mustaches.
Ke$ha: What is it with the man-boy crap, anyway?
DeWyze: What is it with the sexy schoolgirl crap, anyway?
Ke$ha: Excuse me. That's Britney Spears. I'm surprisingly unsexy.
DeWyze: That's what she said.
GCB [sings]: 'Cause growing up is awfuller than all the awful things that ever were. I'll never grow up, never grow up--
Cook [raps]: It's time to come up and hold my own weight, defend my crown. Gots to lock it down and when they rush, stand my ground.
Ke$ha: Right. And then the only alternative to man-boy is to be a gangsta.
DeWyze: Like the only alternative to acting like a slut is--
Lambert: Jordin Sparks.
GCB [sings]: We won't grow up! We'll never grow a day--
Cook [sings]: What does it take to be a man? What does it take to see it's all heart and soul and a gentle hand?
Ke$ha: Being a man means not singing glurge like that.
GCB [sings]: I won't grow up! No, I promise that I won't! I will stay a boy forever--
Cook [sings]: What does it take to be a man? The will to give and not receive. The strength to say what you believe--
GCB: Erp! Eep!
Cook: Can't handle the schlocky stuff, can you?
GCB: [spits up]
Cook: Can't take singing something with saccharine lyrics and indifferent musical structure, can you?
GCB: [spits up]
Cook: You could never have survived American Idol. I did.
Lambert [sings]: You'll make it through the pain, weather the hurricanes, to get to that one thing.
DeWyze [sings]: Your heart is a bloom, shoots up through the stony ground--
Cook: I want my liver back. Now.
GCB [waves liver in a menacing manner]: No.
Cook: No? No is not the answer. What do you think you're doing with my liver anyway?
GCB: I'm waving it in a menacing manner.
Cook: Ah.
GCB: You're supposed to feel intimidated.
Cook: Oh.
GCB: You're not going to survive without your liver.
Cook: You don't have a use for it. You might as well give it back.
GCB: No!
Cook: You know you really want to. You don't like stealing livers. They're messy and icky and taste dreadful, even with bacon.
GCB: No?
DeWyze: He's weakening.
Cook: I told you I could befriend anything. [to GCB] What are you, anyway? We know you're not a fan projection--
Followills' Rock Cred: He's part of you.
Cook: The only part of me attached to him is my liver.
FRC: He's the versions of you that you've put out there in the media.
Cook: Huh?
Lambert: The teary-eyed stuff when Simon praised you--
Cook: Dude. It's our dad's generation that was too tough to show emotion.
FRC: The tweets about your tummy troubles--
Cook: Oh, please. I wanted fans to know why they weren't getting red-carpet pictures from that shindig in Arizona.
Ke$ha: Poor, poor baby!
Cook: Kelly Clarkson said she'd had to go to six stores to find the right shoes, and if I vomited on them, she'd make me lick them clean.
DeWyze: Do not tangle with the Clarkson!
Lambert: That teary-eyed stuff when you won--
Cook: Dude. Everybody cries when the win. "Wimpy" is crying if you don't win.
DeWyze: You looked like a stuffed moose when Simon told you you'd blown the finale.
Cook: Stuffed moose don't cry.
GCB [sings]: Is this the moment when I look you in the eye? Forgive my broken promise that you'll never see me cry?
Cook: Mourning the death of a family member is hardly unique proof of sensitivity.
Ke$ha: Did you know you get pompous when you're uncomfortable?
Cook: Yes.
Lambert: You did share it with your fans.
Cook: One f*cking blog. One f*cking blog and one f*cking press statement because it happened the f*cking weekend of the race.
GCB [sings]: And everything, it will surely change, even if I tell you I won't go away today. Will you think that you're all alone--
Cook: I didn't talk about every gruesome detail of what it was like. Not even when that asshole Larry King tried to nail me on live television. I didn't live-tweet the funeral.
GCB [sings]: When no one's there to hold your hand, when all you know seems so far away--
DeWyze: Were you even on Twitter then?
Cook: That's beside the f*cking point. I made one statement that asked for privacy. I made one statement that encouraged fans in contributing to cancer research. That's it. That's all.
FRC: People related to it.
Cook: People related to it because it happens to a lot of people.
Lambert: You wrote a song about it.
Cook: No sh*t, Sherlock. I wrote more than one song about it. You know why that kind of song works?
GCB [sings]: And everything is temporary, rest your head--
Cook: That kind of song doesn't work because I'm having some f*cking unique experience that nobody else is sensitive enough to get. It works because it's f*cking universal. Everybody experiences it.
GCB [sings]: I'm permanent.
Ke$ha: You don't think there are people who run from that kind of loyalty?
Cook: I know there are. But it speaks to who people want to be and try to be and work to be and hope to be, and that's why it f*cking works. Not because I'm the only person who ever did it. Not because I'm the only person who ever felt it. Not because I need some kind of special sympathy for my unique suffering. But because a whole lot of people have felt roughly the same way.
GCB [sings]: Will you think that you're all alone when no one's there to hold your hand?
DeWyze: Nobody else wrote the song, though.
Cook: That's about having the f*cking vocab and the musical chops to express the feeling. It doesn't prove I'm sensitive. It proves I'm f*cking halfway decent at my f*cking job. Also, I know what "serendipity" means.
Lambert: How'd you get all the way through Idol without dropping the f-bomb?
Cook: Iron self-control. [to GCB] Now, hand over my f*cking liver!
GCB: No!
Cook [sings]: I've got questions for you. You've got answers untrue--
GCB: You haven't begun to ask the right questions.
Cook [sings]: Find a new way to feel right, between this and a fist fight--
GCB: You wouldn't hit a baby!
Cook: Watch me. Give me back my liver. [sings] Is it a labor just to see around the left, the right over my head--
GCB: Time for din-din!
Cook: You're not a projection of my fans' needs, so you don't have anybody to feed it to.
GCB: Don't I? Baby needs a new pair of shoes!
DeWyze: Oh, sh*t.
The ground sprouts with tiny people, legions of them, some with cameras, some with signs, some hauling news reporting equipment, all of them wearing capes emblazoned with a stylized DC.
Ke$ha: It's like that army--
GCB: They're here to save you!
Cook: From what?
GCB: From Simon Cowell--
Cook: Long gone.
GCB: From girlfriends--
Cook: Classified!
GCB: From your record label--
Cook: The one that's actually been listening to me during meetings? The one that's planning a big launch for my album? That label?
GCB: From your tattooed friends--
DeWyze: Hey, what's wrong with tattoos?
Ke$ha: I don't know. Let's see yours and find out.
GCB: From loneliness--
Cook: Lonely? I live with a bunch of tattooed friends--
GCB: From yourself. [sings] Mother, do you think they'll drop the bomb? Mother, do you think they'll like the song? Mother, do you think they'll break my balls?
DeWyze: He said "balls"!
Ke$ha: He's British. They talk like that.
GCB [sings]: Mother, should I build a wall?
Lambert: My management asks that sometimes. Usually right after I've tweeted something embarrassing.
GCB [sings]: Mother, should I run for President? Mother, should I trust the government?
Cook: Sh*t, my mom's still choking on how California's voters can pass propositions that conflict with each other.
Tiny Voices: We're like family to you! Family!
GCB [sings]: Mother, will they put me on the firing line? Is it just a waste of time?
Cook: My brother Andrew is family to me. I mostly give him sh*t and make him clean up after the dogs.
DeWyze: I thought you had a lawn service--
Cook: Only once a week. Haven't you noticed it gets hot in Southern California?
Tiny Voices: Your sh*t don't stink!
Cook: Dublin's and Mr. Sixx's sure does.
Tiny Voices [singing]: Hush now, baby, don't you cry! Mama's gonna make all of your nightmares come true. Mama's gonna put all of her fears into you--
Cook: You know what's on my bucket list? Sky-diving.
Tiny Voices [singing]: Mama's gonna keep you right here under her wing. She won't let you fly but she might let you sing--
Cook [sings]: I'd like to introduce Mr. Sensitive, who never let the worst get the best of him.
Tiny Voices [singing]: Of course Mama's gonna help build the wall.
GCB [sings]: Mother, do you think she's good enough for me? Mother do you think she's dangerous to me?
Cook [sings]: Day in and day out, watch him scream, watch him shout, through the silence--
GCB [sings]: Mother, will she tear your little boy apart? Mother, will she break my heart?
Cook [sings]: Give him ears, give him eyes, give some point to the cries and the violence, oh the violence--
Tiny Voices [singing]: Hush now, baby, don't you cry--
Cook [sings]: Hear him scream your name! [He bends down to look one of the tiny people in the eye.] What's your name?
Person: DCforMe52.
Cook: Your real name.
Person: My real--
Tiny Voices [singing]: Mama's gonna check out all your girlfriends for you--
Cook: Your real name. Is it Sue? Jane? Patricia?
Person: Velma.
Ke$ha: I can see why she's not using it.
Cook: Velma, why are you here?
Tiny Voices [singing]: Mama's gonna make all of your nightmares come true. Mama's gonna put all of her fears into you--
Velma: I'm here because you need me.
Cook: That's right. I need you. Do you know what I need you for?
Tiny Voices [singing]: Mama's gonna keep you right here under her wing. She won't let you fly--
Cook: I need you to be you. Do you know how I feel when people make fun of my fans?
Velma: Hurt?
DeWyze: I thought you weren't doing the hyper-sensitive thing?
Cook: Dude. It's not hyper-sensitive to dislike gossiping and backbiting. [to Velma] What's important to you in life?
Velma: You!
Tiny Voices [singing]: Mama's gonna check out all your girlfriends for you. Mama won't let anyone dirty get through.
Cook: What else?
Velma: Your music!
Cook: What else?
Tiny Voices [singing]: Mama's gonna wait up till you get in. Mama will always find out where you've been.
Velma: Weelllll...
GCB [sings]: Mother, do you think they'll like the song?
Velma: My kids are awfully cute.
Cook: I'll bet they are.
Velma: Last week, I beat my best time in a half-mile run.
Cook: That felt great, didn't it?
Velma: Hurt for days, actually. I went to a really great show by a local band last week. [She has expanded to Barbie size.]
Cook: That's more than I got out. Between rehearsals for the next live show and finishing touches on the album--
Velma: My vegetable garden's going to be great this year if it ever stops snowing. I've been working on it because I'm stressed over my mom's illness. [She's headed for American Girl size. Around her, other tiny people are announcing their interests to one another and starting to grow.]
GCB [sings]: Mother, do you think they'll break my balls?
Velma: My boss says I'd be up for promotion if our budgets weren't so tight. I could use the money, but then I look at the situation in Wisconsin and I think about the people who don't have jobs or health insurance--
GCB [sings]: Mother, should I run for President?
Velma: [to GCB] Oh, grow up! [to Cook] Not enough people even look at the issues before voting, and then we get this "take back America" stuff taking away even basic benefits, and people are out there with needs--
Cook: I know. You figure health care and schools--
Velma: Sometimes it makes me so mad that I want to explode!
And she does. Not messily. She just vanishes with a gentle pop.
Cook: What the f*ck? I didn't... I thought...
FRC: She's gone back to where she came from. [Lights a fresh ciggie.]
GCB [sings]: Mother, will they put me in the firing line?
Second Person [roughly three feet tall now and feisty]: I'm Wilma. Don't you need our help?
Cook: That part's easy. Buy my new album. Tell a friend about it. Catch a few shows. Bring your husband. Better yet, bring your sons.
Wilma: I only have daughters.
Cook: Bring your daughters' boyfriends.
Wilma: One's a lesbian. The other wants to become a nun. Do you know how frustrating teenagers are?
Cook: Start a friggin' Boy Scout troop, then, and bring it. Train 'em for Race for Hope. That cause is important to me.
Wilma: I'm trying kick-boxing at the gym because some days, I just want to smash something. [She is now chest high.]
GCB [sings]: Is it just a waste of time?
Cook: Oh, and buy merch. Merch has great margins.
Wilma: Speaking of merch, I've been doing some designs for a local charity-- [She pops.]
Cook: This city feels low against the gleam and the glow of his diligence to their elegance.
GCB [sings]: Mother, do you think they'll drop the bomb? Mother, do you think they'll like the song?
Around the GCB, tiny people are expanding and popping like bubbles in the sunlight.
Cook [sings]: Just feel anger, feel pain, feel the sun and the rain. Just feel something. Oh, feel something.
GCB [sings]: Mother, do you think they'll break my balls? Mother, should I build the wall?
Cook [sings]: I would like to introduce Mr. Sensitive, who never let the worst get the best of him.
GCB [sings]: Is it just a waste of time?
The popping has reached the velocity of bubble wrap in the aftermath of Christmas. No tiny voices respond to the Giant Cook Baby.
Cook [sings]: Take all the stones, the bricks and the bones.
GCB [sings]: Is it just a waste of time? [He is shrinking and losing his baby-like characteristics.]
Cook [sings]: He didn't stand a chance, they said!
GCB [sings]: Is it just a waste of time?
The Giant Cook Baby is alone.
Cook [sings]: I would like to introduce Mr. Sensitive, who never let the worst get the best of him. [to the GCB] May I have my liver back?
GCB: What's the magic word?
Cook: Please.
The GCB is now identical to Cook except that it's wearing only a diaper. It shoves the liver back into his body.
Cook: Thank you.
DeWyze: Hell of an outfit.
Cook: I've worn worse for Hallowe'en. [He holds out a hand to the GCB.] You know the drill.
GCB [sings]: Mother, did it need to be so hard?
It steps forward and fades into the real Cook, who shudders once from head to toe.
Cook [to the FRC]: Okay. Next level?
FRC: This way.
It stubs out its ciggie and leads the way to a broad stone stair seemingly indistinguishable from every other broad stone stair in the depths of hell. The others follow him. As they descend, a hum of voices starts.
Lambert [to Cook]: Why the hell did that song work? It's about being sensitive.
Ke$ha: It's about the importance of feeling. As soon as he got the tiny people to feel for themselves, they didn't need his liver.
Cook: Told you befriending people was the way to go. That, and there's the chorus--
Lambert: He never let the worst get the best of him--
Cook: Diaper dude's telling me I can't survive because I'm so f*cking sensitive. He has no logical response to the argument that feeling is what lets a person survive.
DeWyze: Dude.
The stair ends in a courtyard full of flitting insects. Ke$ha and Lambert swat at them. The FRC is unaffected.
Cook: I warned him it was all about the f*cking vocab.
The cause of the insect invasion is an elaborate and murky fountain in the center of the courtyard. Its stone is heavily ornamented with gargoyles, demons, and musical instruments. Its water is green and gooey.
Ke$ha: Oh, look. More mud to be head-down in.
FRC: This one's head up, actually. He's a talky one.
The figure chained in the center of the fountain is wreathed in vile yellow mist. Even partly obscured, he seems vaguely familiar.
Lambert: Ken Warwick?
DeWyze: Now this is a scene I can get behind.
TO BE CONTINUED.
