Jason vs. Derulo

Posted: September 21, 2011 in The Writer's Roundabout

Hello everyone!

Welcome back to The Writer’s Roundabout. I’m really glad you all are still with me with all the twists and turns. I really appreciate all the love and support!

I am still accepting submissions for my project. Email me if you have fiction, feature and inspiring stories. I also need summer movies review and an international book review. Here is my email – deolaadebiyi6@gmail.com.

If this is your first time here, or you don’t know why you are here orrrrrrr you are carrying a very heavy heavy last, click here to read the previous posts done by me, Rj, Wole, Sandra, Terdoh, Onyinye and Bukky.

Now we have Bankole @xoAFRO


“Haaa ….. ”

“..Kuna Matata? Would you sing for me? Jason, go get my saxophone…”

Jason pushed Jade over towards the man who’d driven the car but he pushed her so violently that she was thrown over a pile of cement bags that lay some distance ahead. Of course, she ended up on the rough floor in a posture not so greatly comfortable. She knew she had twisted something.

Jason started merrily on the errand. Skipping.

Jade recovered slowly, turning her weak body on the hard, red earth. One of her knees bled. She was in a very large compound, she noticed, with a barbed wire perimeter and only one building in sight, a sort of storage shed, the one Jason was making for. The sun cast a dull evening glow on what looked like a very large building project – heaps of sand, cement mixers, shovels, pans, ready-made bricks and other such implements to suggest her quick conclusion lay before her but her attention was still taken by the face her eyes had met when the blindfold had been taken off. At least until she heard Jason sing.

Day-o, me say day-o,
Daylight come and we don’t wanna go home.
Yeah so, we losin’ control…

She knew that voice. Jason Derulo. Chicken batterer. Chicken arsonist. He didn’t really look like he did on TV probably because he hadn’t shaved in while but she knew it was him.

“Oh! Shut up Jason and get me my goddarn saxophone!”

She turned back to face the masked face that had shocked her socks. Her own face was a confusion of expressions, a confirmation of the many frustrations she had tolerated and this final violent irritation. Her body shook in a tremor. She decided she had enjoyed enough of the freaking.

“Fuck this! Which one is this again? And you’re Lagbaja right?” She screamed at the masked man.

Turn the lights low ’cause we about to get blown.

“Jasoooon! SHUUUT UUUUP!” Lagbaja said.

In a flashy show of rage, the masked man clenched his fists and turned back to yell as Jason walked into the shed and slammed the door. His slim, tall torso was tensed a lot, and it showed, through the brilliant roughs on his very colourful Aso-Oke outfit caused by the very unfortunate contortion of his body.


Jade buried her head under her hands as car parts and human parts too flew over head. The cement bag barrier served as a wonderful protection. If Jade had kept her head up she’d have seen the two hands coming in the air with a mind of their own. To land on her big butt cheeks. Just like that.


The hands were hot.

Even in death, Lagbaja still asked if there was something for him.

The noise ended almost as quickly save for the song of a small fire that burned the heavy parts of the car that were to proud to be flung in the excitement and the ringing in her ears. Jade lifted her head and Lagbaja’s masked head smiled at her through burnt teeth from atop the cement pile. The scene was reminiscent of Sallah meat burnings; the aroma of burnt flesh and dust and melted plastic found her. Dear Lagbaja seemed happy with where his hands found rest. She threw up.

Jason walked over to where Jade was and laughed a little before he helped her up. The sight was priceless. Her twisted ankle told her sternly to sit and so she sat, right next to grinning Lagbaja and together they tried to pull Lagbaja’s mask off. They were curious for different reasons.

But the mask stuck.

And they gave up.

But it was not over yet.


Then Jason knew that he had failed. It was only Lagbaja’s body parts all over the place. Of course, he was not Jason Derulo. Of course, Lagbaja was not Lagbaja and although Jade didn’t know, she was not Jade. She was the daughter of somebody important. Somebody with enemies.

A shot rang out.


This is getting interesting o … hmmmmm

So what happens next?

The next writer will tell us more …

Who is …….








Coco @CeceNoStockings

Head back here Friday at 9:30 to see what Cece does with this story!!!

Do not forget to head over to Afrosays at 10 today to read the 3rd Decade by @JadenTM with poetry written by @_Ayaba.

Have a great day!!!


  1. BoukkieO says:

    hehehe….. I luveeet!

  2. OOkpoechi says:

    TF?! Hahahahahahaha.

  3. terdoh says:

    “Even in death, Lagbaja still asked if there was something for him.”

    Haha! Lovely!

    Bet who is Jade? and who is not Jade? and who is the Lagbaja that is not Lagbaja?
    -A confused joker here.

  4. Honey_wealth says:


  5. rachelle says:

    *scratches head* I’m confused….*lemme read again*

  6. Mz_Shadee says:

    Looooool. Nice nice. Kai. I don’t envy d next writer sha, d whole story is getting more complicated! *sigh*™

  7. ibetapassmynebo says:

    This whole thing. .is a dream or a midday drift
    I’m convinced. . .

  8. deeza says:

    and Bankole wrote!…….lmao!!! this is good stuff! really good stuff…i had a lotta LOL moments!..

  9. Afro just rescued this story mehn! I had a smile on my face from the moment I saw the title. This is all kinds of awesome! I mean, the next writer has a leeway… The last writer left it in a dark place, this guy just… *sigh*
    Very very nice. (y)

  10. coolprincee says:

    Need 2 read previous episodes so i can understand this 1

  11. Adaora says:

    Rotflmao!!!this is awesome! I love!!

  12. Tsonyi says:

    WTF!!!!is the writer retarded or what? practically yawned all through. I think u r better of hawking oranges!*bows out

  13. ngufy says:

    Bullshit! I expected better Bankole!

  14. laiwola11 says:

    *sighs*…me lyk dhis one sha, banky o tsheee…really cnt wait 4 friday oo…where’s the FRW button sef? *flings remote control*

  15. ThinkTank says:

    Errr…Banxman. I’ll be needing some of that good kush you smoked when you wrote this.

    Derulo? Lagbaja? something for him? ‘burned the heavy parts of the car that were to proud to be flung in the excitement’?


    good sir! I do declare that this is not the work of the afromuse. It is the work of the kushmuse!

    The descent into madness continues…

  16. georgeenah says:

    Lol!And the 1st smile since today began broke on my face. Thanks Banx and Wole too.

  17. 0latoxic says:

    *sigh* Why does the calabash bring me up after all these nutcases?!

    Anyway sha, love what you did with it banx. I like the light-heartedness and simplicity with which it’s now coloured.

    Cece baby, do the rest of us well o. :* :*

  18. thatifygirl says:


  19. Kponja says:

    The Banks just killed this rap…..:D

  20. kennibal says:

    This is a take-a-break-and-laugh episode. #NowLaughing

  21. […] Decade – The Second Decade – The Third Decade Also, Our dear AFROSAYS worked on a story in The Writer’s Roundabout, a project by our very own @d3ola, one of the Decades team members. The Writer’s Roundabout […]

  22. Kemmiiii says:

    LOLOLLOLOL….This was really funny and confusing. Thank God I just have to click next to know who Jade really is.
    Lagbaja tho. *rolls to Lalupon.*

  23. Ayob Alariwo says:

    Mr banks…. it’s ok…. twisted as i expected…. like d little humour added sha…. (y)

  24. lade says:


  25. […] Decade – The Second Decade – The Third Decade Also, Our dear AFROSAYS worked on a story in The Writer’s Roundabout, a project by our very own @d3ola, one of the Decades team members. The Writer’s Roundabout […]

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