Our ship crashed last night. Me and eclectic international pop star Nicki Minaj were the only survivors. Her behind could float well enough to act as a lifeboat carrying us both to safety. I owe Nicki this moment to life!
Search for shelter. Nicki fashions a one-woman tent out of one of her dresses. I sleep in the rain. I’m itching to get home, get back to society; Nicki however is enjoying the vacation from touring. When in Rome.
Starting to get hungry. There’s only one coconut on the island, I discover. I offer to share. Nicki insists that we settle who gets the coconut with a fast-rapping contest. I tell Nicki that I can’t rap very well on account of my cold sore. She doesn’t listen and wins the coconut. I sleep in the rain.
I spend the day rubbing two wet sticks together in an attempt to start a fire. Nicki spent a few hours trying to figure out if there’s a way to make eye shadow with dirt and red clay. Apparently, there is.
Nicki tells me that the best way to start a fire is to walk into the room and boys be looking at her boom ba ba boom. I don’t understand. Nicki practices levitating and speaking in tongues for the rest of evening. I don’t think anyone is looking for us.
REJOICE! Just found out there IS in fact a renewable means of food just off the island – FISH! I spent the better part of a day fashioning a bamboo stick into a pole. I catch 37 fish and present my offering to Nicki. She tells me that is some superb bass. I tell her I’m no fishologist but, no, bass is a freshwater fish. She tells me that I got the superb bass. I finally realize what she’s trying to do. I have to listen to her “sing” the same couple of verses for the remainder of the evening.
Getting very desperate now, I resort to just screaming at the top of my lungs for help. Nicki doesn’t come up with any original pleas for help but she does repeat the last word of my cries several times. David Guetta shows up out of nowhere to DJ the whole event. He doesn’t offer us any help, though, and disappears in a wisp of smoke without talking to anyone.
Usually you slowly fall in love with the person you are trapped on a desert island with. Not the case.
I travel into the woods to find Nicki wearing the bark of a tree, training a half dozen squirrels to perform as back-up dancers. Sure, they are surprisingly good, but I tell Nicki we could be making a better use of our time and resources. She bites me in the neck, quenching her thirst for human blood momentarily, yet leaving me hungrier and weaker than ever. We meet three chipmunks who were also left chip-wrecked on this desert island. One of them wears glasses for some reason. Nicki kills them and eats them, after they teach the rest of the squirrels how to properly sing back-up.
Nicki has yet to run out of wigs.
I ask Nicki what the difference is between her and Lady Gaga. She tells me that she has a British accent sometimes. I sleep in the rain.
I never should have doubted Nicki! She saved my life again! We got rescued today. Nicki and the shirtless squirrels spent the majority of this past year choreographing a sacrilegious dance number that angered God so much so that he awakened the volcano on our island. It started flowing lava and the woods went up in a blaze of glory, alerting a rescue chopper at long last! Thanks Nicki, and congratulations on your Oscar nomination!