Dr. Justin: (squints into the camera again, and beams gallantly) Welcome back. You’re still tuned to The Nameless Program, and we are still discussing the side gene. With me, as before, is …
Quicksilver: Quicksilver to you all.
Dr. Justin: and while we were on the commercial break, another of my specimen walked in. Good day, Annabel.
Annabel: (winks at Quicksilver and completely ignores Dr. Justin)
Dr. Justin: (sigh) This life is just a plate of left-over ogi.
Annabel: I’m sorry. Were you saying something?
Quicksilver: Hey, babe (he wags eyebrows suggestively)
Dr. Justin: (turns to face the camera) Observe, people. This is a typical Side Dude Gene interaction. It figures, of course, that she would ignore me, since I am not a carrier of the lethal gene. The female specimen has detected Side dude potentials in Mr. Quicksilver (who is the male specimen), and she is honing in on him to make the kill. What usually happens is (ringing in the background)…oh. I think we have a caller on the line.
Dr. Justin: Good morning, and welcome to Ask Dr. Justin, may I know your name and where you’re calling from?
Dr. Justin: Good day, sir or ma’am. Could you turn down the volume of your radio set?
Dr. Justin: Still no improvement. Please turn down the volume of your radio!
Dr. Justin: TURN DOWN THE VOLUME OF YOUR –
(poof! The studio telephone explodes in smoke)
(Dr. Justin slaps palm to face and sighs. Studio Manager comes on-stage.)
Studio Manager: Who’s gonna pay for that?
Dr. Justin: Not now, bruv. After the show.
Studio Manager: What the fuck? You’re going to answer me, and right now!
Dr. Justin: Dude. You’re ruining my show.
Studio Manager: (smashes Dr. Justin’s new table)
Dr. Justin: NoooOooo….(sigh) are we even now?
Studio Manager: Yeah, I guess.
Dr. Justin: So you can go now?
Studio Manager: I can.
Dr. Justin: Go. Leave me. Begone.
Studio Manager: OK. Cool. (Studio manager leaves)
Dr. Justin: (sighs and brings a BlackBerry from his pocket) I’m sorry about that, viewers. Due to technical difficulties involving the studio phone, I’d like you to kindly indulge me and channel all your questions through this line. The number to call is 01-224897. Again, it is 01-224897
Quicksilver: Wait – what?
Dr. Justin: K
Quicksilver: Isn’t that supposed to be a BlackBerry?
Dr. Justin: Your point?
Quicksilver: Dude, you just gave digits for a frickin’ landline number!!!
Dr. Justin: (sigh). This life is a mystery sometimes.
Quicksilver: (currently distracted by Annabel biting gently on his ears) …okay…whatever you say, man. (BlackBerry Rings)
Dr. Justin: Yay. New caller. Hello?
Dr. Justin: WTF? You again? I’m gonna have to disconnect you. It’s a Z10, and it would hurt me if it goes up in smoke. (Justin punches some keys on his phone and bars the caller’s number)
Dr. Justin: Alright, as I was saying before the ‘call’ came in. Observe the ritual between Annabel and Quicksilver. Annabel undoubtedly has a boyfriend or a ‘steady as it is referred to in our proud medical jargon. The steady is the one who accompanies Annabel to parties, and he’s often the one that appears on DPs.
Most girls who crave for side dudes usually have steadies. However, the Steady gene has some anomalies which necessitate the genetic coating of a side dude gene to bring balance in the ecosystem of a typical female specimen. Steadies are usually unromantic bastards, pardon my French, and are sometimes lousy in bed. According to Dr. Cocktopus (2007), “…there exists a small colony of breeding steadies in every ecosystem that latch on to female species on the Homo sapiens population. The relationship between a steady and a female is one of symbiotic proportions. The steady gets to NOT be a babeless loser, and the female gets to have her needs (usually financial, but not always the rule) met with the additional social status of having a ‘boyfriend’, ‘husband’, ‘man-friend’ or whatever term the prevailing society decides upon…”
In essence? Steadies are the reason for the fast mutation and spread of the Side Dude Gene. “With great steadies come great side dude genity” is a quote found in the unedited version of the movie, Spiderman. Coincidentally, Peter Parker (that’s Spiderman to you) was an illustrious side dude, subbing for his mate Harry Osborne.
So, back to Annabel. She probably has a steady somewhere, who is incapable of satisfying her sexual needs, or her emotional needs, or her spiritual needs (who knows? It’s women we’re talking about here). So she latches on to Quicksilver here, who, due to the genes, is willing and able to give her everything needs without taking the official ‘boyfriend’ status.
And that concludes my very interesting talk on Side Dude Genes. (phone rings)
Dr. Justin: Hello. You’re welcome to Ask Dr. Justin. Where are you calling from?
Caller: You can call me Mark. Or Marks-man, whatever makes you hot, man.
Dr. Justin: WTF?
Caller: What are you wearing?
Dr. Justin: UM….(looks down) I’m wearing my lab coat and my spectacles.
Caller: Ooooh. Sexy Doctor Costume. Kinky.
Dr. Justin: Erm….(glances sideways)
Caller: I want you to bend down ever so slightly and caress your…
Dr. Justin: Ahem! No thanks. Jesus loves you. #OKbye (disconnects call)
Dr. Justin: What the hell? (Turns to Quicksilver and Annabel) can you believe tha….WTF? What the HELL are you guys doing, in public, on national TV????
(C A M E R A G O E S O F F A I R)
(The nameless program returns back on, to reveal an extremely tired Dr. Justin standing in front of the screen)
Dr. Justin: (in the calmest voice ever) Fellow Nigerians. I apologize for what has happened. I know I have unwittingly given your kids impromptu sex education. But my intentions were good. I swear. (sobs) I only came here to talk about the side dude gene. It was supposed to be my breakthrough…(sniff) My gift to humanity.
But I’ll be strong (phone rings) . . . yes. I will.
(Sniffs. Picks up the phone) Hello?
Caller: Hello. You’re Dr. Justin, right?
Dr. Justin: Yes? You have something to contribute to the program?
Caller: Yes. I have a lot to contribute. I called you earlier and you had the frickin’ balls to cut me off and bar my number, right?
Dr. Justin: What? Oh…wait. You were the one who refused to lower the volume of your radio set.
Caller: Sharrap. And you had the guts to show my girlfriend with that your creep, Quick-wetin. On top of that, you called me a ‘steady’. I am currently driving to your studio. Say your prayers, bitch.
Dr. Justin: (cries) abeeg. Abeg. I didn’t mean it like tha – (call disconnects)
Dr. Justin: (smiles into the camera) Well, folks. It was nice having this time with you, but I have to run. Same time, same station, next week?
(loud bangs and crashes backstage) On second thought, maybe we should put a rain check on that?
(C A M E R A C R A C K S , F A D E S TO B L A C K )