Don Lemon Vol.1: Nicki Minaj Way…If She Say?!

The light rain fell in silver sheets over New York, turning the streets into shimmering mirrors reflecting the chaos of flashing news vans and paparazzi umbrellas.

Tim Malone adjusted the collar of his grey trench coat suit as he stepped out of the courthouse without a word, the weight of the moment pressing against his temples.

Behind him, Don Lemon emerged squinting into the downpour, blinking like a man reacquired to the world after a week in solitary.

But the shock was real, from all the love that he got over Ray J heart condition going public at the time, everyone wanted to shack his hand and take a picture, even had his car door opened for him by a fan.

(Something Tim knew he should of did, but let it be!)

soon as the car door closed Tim became a hot head Aries.

(Even Zeus did not approve of this variant serpent clone he left on earth)

The car went cold before Don could get words out his mouth!

Tim: I told you,” Tim said, (voice low before high and steady)

Tim: I’d get you out! But next time, maybe don’t livestream yourself trying to reason with a Secret Service agent at a MAGA rally or in a church.

Don brushed rain from his glasses.

Don: Free speech…Tim… i was holding power into account! (Calmly speaking in return)

Don: I believe in free and fair, It’s not my fault they’ve criminalized sarcasm…

Tim voice was loud as the engine coughed to life beneath a symphony of thunder.

Tim glanced at Don, then at his phone—three missed calls, Sam.

“I’m texting Marcus,” Tim muttered. “He’s gonna blow a gasket when he sees the news.”

“Marcus?” Don snorted. “That man still thinks Nicki Minaj is the Second Coming. Every time she drops a single, when she sucking all the men she shook all the MAGA hands of, in that white hair ball coat.

Thats all Don could think about every time, Sam said anything nice about Nicki!

Tim chuckled, but it faded fast. He dialed Sam back.

Sam: Where are you? Samanswered, voice tight.

Tim: Just left the courthouse, Don’s free!

A beat of silence…Then: “You bailed out Don Lemon but you won’t co-sign my idea for a Nicki Minaj museum in Brooklyn?

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose.

Tim: That’s not why I called.

Sam: It is! You liberated a man who wore a sequin jacket to a federal hearing, but you won’t let me honor the Queen? The Barbz are watching, Guys!”

“Sam, listen—”

“No, you listen!” Marcus’s tone rose. Everything Sen. Chris Murphy said in his briefing on free speech in wake of Charlie Kirk 4 months ago is all that was, so be happy you did not get shot or worse.

Sam: Anyway…Nicki is a cultural icon. (A musical genius, and yes, she supported Trump once)

Don: She wore a ‘Make America Great Again’ hat in a Met Gala sketch!

Tim: That’s not supporting, that’s satire in a sparkly wig…Right?

Sam: Semantics, he shot back…But the point is, if you smart, do not mess with Nicki, Trump will give her anything she wants.”

Tim blinked. “Wait. What?”

“You heard me!” Sam said, voice rising like a gospel choir.

Sam: Trump adores her!

Sam: He plays ‘Anaconda’ at rallies when the crowd gets sleepy.

Sam: He calls her ‘the tiny titan queen of rap…

Don: I bet!

Sam: If you cross her path again… guys, he’ll send drones with pink wigs and subpoenas signed in glitter pen!”

Don, eavesdropping with glee, mimed playing air guitar.

Tim: This isn’t about crossing her,” Tim said, gripping the wheel.

Tim: It’s about Don almost being charged with ‘insurrection via sarcasm’ because he told a Alisyn Camerota her hair looked like a 2016 electoral map.

So, their you go? Sam retorted.

Sam: Nicki once told the Pope he needed more drip. She’s untouchable!

Tim: You’re losing your mind, Tim said, though a smile tugged at his lips.

Don laughed about everything in his head…

Sam: No, I’m protecting art, Sam insisted... I know she put you in jail but, I may have already leased the space.

Sam: Above that bodega in Queens that sells plantain-flavored ramen.

Tim stared at the phone. “You what?”

Sam: Donation-based entry,” Sam added quickly. VR exhibit on the Pink Friday era. I’ve got a life-sized animatronic Nicki practicing her Grammy speech in Slovak.

Don leaned over… I want in. I’ll narrate the ‘I’m the Boss’ wing.

Don and Tim looking at each other…

Tim threw his hands up.

Tim: Fine! Open the museum, But if Trump does send the glitter drones, you explain to Homeland Security why there’s a hologram of Nicki rapping the Preamble to the Constitution…

Sam: GOT IT!

As the call ended, Don sighed dreamily.

Don: Nicki really is a unifying force, I see why i pulled the heads off my sister barbie dolls!

Tim stop the car.

Tim: She’s untouchable, apparently… Even by common sense!

And as the car vanished into the rainy New York, one truth echoed louder than any debate or publish newspaper: in the surreal circus of modern America, sometimes the only thing stronger than politics is a queen in sky high heels, a pink wig, and a verse that even the President wouldn’t dare interrupt.

And they both had to be ready everytime they step outside, together or apart, now that everyone was watching them.

Tim parked and rushed out first to get Don door, before he can step out.

Slapping his butt prison funky butt as Tim entered behind Don into the house…

Don Lemon Vol.2: Don’s Key To Javorek Love

TBA