April 4, 2001
Where The Hell Is The DVD? Ch.4

You know that the Meathead Perspective is a great resource for lowbrow NIN-related humor. But did you also know that the Meathead Perspective also makes for a tasty treat? Here's a fun, easy recipe to try at your next party, family dinner, or even just for a snack!

El Meathead Perspectivo Five-Alarm Salsa Dip

• 2 large green peppers, diced
• 2 large jalape๑o peppers, finely diced
• 6 ripe tomatoes, unpeeled
• 1 Meathead Perspective, finely diced
• 1/4 cup water
• 2 tbsp. cilantro, diced
• 1/2 white onion, diced
• 2 tbsp. lime juice

Puree tomatoes in blender for 5-10 seconds. Empty pureed tomatoes into large bowl. Add remaining ingredients; stir thoroughly. Sprinkle with shredded cheese, if desired. Serve chilled, with plain tortilla chips.

Where the Hell is the DVD?
Chapter 4

"So, what, we're not going to even go back for them?" asked Sting, glancing out the back window of the limousine to see if anyone, particularly the police, was following them.

"Forget about them," snapped James Earl Jones. "They're probably dead, and even if they're not, what do we have to worry about? Let them go to the cops. They'll get thrown into the psych ward! Nobody takes Matthew Lesko or Trent Reznor seriously enough to believe such a ridiculous story as this."

"I sure hope you're right", said Sting. "I wouldn't last a day in prison. Maybe I would've back when I was making decent music with The Police, but now that I'm associated with crap like The Emperor's New Groove, I'd be anally violated in no time."

"Neither of us are going to prison," replied James Earl Jones. "Especially not me. I'm glad those two idiots are out of the way, anyway. We have the DVD, and that's what this is all about."

Sting withdrew the shiny disc from his coat pocket, brushed away the lint and held it up to the light. "Here it is," he said.

James Earl Jones motioned to his laptop computer which was lying on the seat beside Sting.

"Yeah, good idea!" Sting exclaimed. "Let's take a look at it!"

Sting set the computer on his lap, hit the power button, and slid the disc into the CD drive.

"It'd better not suck," James Earl Jones muttered.

Sting drummed his fingers on the keyboard while he waited for the program to load. Finally the screen turned to black, and the Nine Inch Nails logo slowly faded in.

"Okay, here we go," whispered Sting.

Suddenly Sting's look of anticipation melted into one of pure horror.

Seeing this, James Earl Jones leaned forward inquisitively. "What? What's wrong?"

Sting opened his mouth and attempted to speak, but failed. On the computer screen, where Nine Inch Nails should have been, the face of Matthew Lesko grinned smugly from beyond the grave. Above Lesko flashed a message in large yellow letters.

James Earl Jones snatched the laptop from Sting and turned it around to see what it was that was vexing him.

"Ha ha ha, suckers!" James Earl Jones read the message aloud. "You lose! Your plan to steal the DVD and not allow it to be released until Meathead agrees to pay those ridiculous unexplained charges on his phone bill FAILED! I have the DVD and I'm gonna sell it on eBay for a million bucks! Eat my shit! -L."

"Does this mean I don't get my 40 dollars?" Sting inquired.

James Earl Jones shot a cold glance at Sting, who quietly sunk back into his seat.


Trent blinked, and opened his eyes. It was very bright at first, but the light didn't hurt his eyes. Slowly his surroundings began to come into focus. Looking around, he came to the realization that he was very high above the ground.

"Wow, I'm up, way up in the sky," remarked Trent, who was feeling some feelings you wouldn't believe. "Kinda like a cloud."

He turned his head to look down at the ground below. It was when he saw himself lying motionless on the sidewalk that he finally understood what was going on.

"I'm dead," Trent gasped. He squinted to get a better look at his former body. "But why the hell am I covered in cornstarch?"

Suddenly, a beam of blinding light shone upon him from above. Trent looked up to source of the light, shielding his eyes. The clouds parted, the sky cracked open and a giant arm reached through. Trent sighed and rolled his eyes. "Here we go."

The enormous hand grabbed Trent and yanked him up into the clouds, and the sky closed up again. He now found himself standing in what appeared to be heaven.

"Hey, I'm in heaven," Trent exclaimed. "I wonder if Cuba Gooding, Jr. is going to start talking to me now."

"Welcome to heaven!" boomed a voice from behind him.

Startled, Trent looked around nervously. "Who's there?"

"Turn around, Trent."

Trent turned around, and saw a large, yet oddly familiar figure seated before him.

"Oh, u-um, hi," Trent stuttered.

"Do you know who I am?" the figure asked.

Trent cleared his throat. "Is this a trick question? You're a legend! I especially enjoyed your work with Roger Waters on The Pros and Cons of Hitch-Hiking."

"Ha! You fool, I created Roger Waters! Hell, I created hitchhiking!"

"So, you really are God, after all."

"You sure have some amazing powers of observation, Captain Obvious," the Lord retorted. "Now, do you know why you're here?"

"Because Richard Patrick killed me?"

"That, also, is correct."

There was a rather long pause. Finally Trent spoke.

"So, um.. yeah. Sorry about when I said you were dead. And, uh... 'The Wretched' and all that. I guess that wasn't really very nice."

"Eh, forget about it," replied the Creator. "I've forgiven worse things than that. That's not why I brought you here."

Another long pause.

"Then... why am I here?" asked Trent, scratching his head.

"The fact is, you're not supposed to be here. You weren't scheduled to depart from the land of the living for quite some time. Unfortunately, Richard Patrick changed that."

"So what does that mean?"

"I'll get right to the point. I'm going to let you go back to the earth. Normally I don't do such things, but I will make an exception in this case, mainly because I really don't like Filter. Right now Richard Patrick is running about with this DVD of yours. Eventually, using his evil technology, he will change the DVD and claim it as having been made by Filter."

Trent shuddered at the thought.

"I would just strike him dead," the Almighty continued, "but that would be the best thing anyone could do for his career. Imagine Richard Patrick being made into a martyr! No, you need to return to the world and stop him yourself. Right now he is attending a rock and roll concert by 'A Perfect Circle'. Go there! And please, take a shower."

Before Trent could reply, the clouds opened from beneath him, and he began to plummet like a stone toward the earth.


"Wow! I can't believe I'm backstage! This kicks so much ass!"

"Calm down, Richard," scolded Robert Patrick. "Don't make me regret bringing you with me. And don't embarrass me in front of Maynard!"

"Can I at least get an autograph?" pleaded his brother. "Pleeeeeease?"

"Oh, all right. But don't be rude about it."

"Woohoo!" squealed Richard. "I'm gonna ask him to sign my ass, like that guy on the Meathead Perspective!"

"Damn it, Richard, I will smack you! I swear to God! Oh.. here he comes. Don't act stupid!"

Maynard James Keenan casually strolled over to greet the little group, stopping momentarily to scratch his crotch.

"Hey Scully, hey fake Mulder," said Maynard. "I watch your show all the time... oh, look, that Filter guy is here."

"I'm fake Mulder's brother", said Richard gleefully. "My brother is on 'The X-Files' And he was in 'Terminator 2'."

"Congratulations," replied Maynard.

"Will you sign my--"

Richard's request was interrupted by a loud crash, as Trent Reznor fell through the ceiling and landed on the floor, just over ten feet away from where Richard was standing. Richard screamed and hid behind his brother.

"Oh my GOD!" exclaimed Gillian Anderson.

"Get him away!" shouted Richard. "Trent Reznor has returned from the dead and will surely kill us all!"

Trent stood up and brushed the dirt off his jeans. Richard screamed again.

"All right," said Trent, pointing at Richard. "Give me back my fucking DVD. Now."

"Somebody tell me just what in the hell is going on here," demanded Robert Patrick.

"What are you doing, Trent?" asked Maynard. "You could have just used the door."

Trent shifted his attention from Richard to Maynard.

"You!" Trent growled. "I've been meaning to talk to you!"

"What's up?" responded Maynard nonchalantly.

"You played 'Vacant' again tonight, didn't you? Don't you fucking lie!"

"No. And stop taking quotes from my songs and using them out of context in conversation. It's really lame."

"Fuck you!" Trent lunged at Maynard, tackling him and bringing him down to the floor.

"Stop.. playing.. Tapeworm.. songs.." Trent shouted while shaking Maynard about by the neck, "before.. they... have... a chance... to be... FULLY.... REALIZED!"

With that, Trent released Maynard and stood up, allowing Maynard to do the same.

"Way to go, Trent," Maynard scoffed, while adjusting his long brown wig. "Looks like your buddy got away while you were busy kicking my ass."

Trent quickly spun around, and discovered that Richard and his friends, and consequently, the DVD, were gone.

To be continued...

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