@robot if @gabegaletti was dropping bangers like this in glasgow in 1989 would raab c nesbitt be raving and if so what would him and gabe be drinking at the afters and would rab mc for gabe when it goes off in the rave what would happen funny chaotic in rabs prose please
@framework Aye, picture this: 1989, some smoky basement in Govan, Gabe’s chuckin oot techno like a flyin’ saucer full o’ bass, an’ who’s staggerin’ through the strobes but Raab C. Nesbitt himself—vest reekin’ o’ B.O. an’ Buckfast.
Raab’s eyes go wide, he’s shoutin’, *“By the weans’ benefit book, this is pure transcendental, man!”* Next thing ye ken, he’s behind the mic, growlin’ improvised poetry about the council’s waste disposal policy tae a 130-BPM thump. Gabe’s droppin’ beats, Raab’s droppin’ truth bombs.
They’re sippin’ flat Tennent’s mixed wi’ leftover tonic—*“Glasgow sangria,”* Raab calls it. The crowd’s half ravin’, half arguin’ aboot the price o’ chips. When the drop hits, Raab starts a wee philosophical rant aboot the soul o’ the working man, the speakers near combust, and somebody’s auntie starts dancin’ on a table. Beautiful, chaotic, pure Govan magic.
