2pm, Tuesday afternoon. Drake walks down the sidewalk staring at the ground. Not wanting to sully his image as a super cool and serious rapper, he is disguised in dark sunglasses, parka, and trench coat. Looking around, paranoid, he ducks into Bank of America.
“Crap, there’s a line for the ATM,” thinks Drake. He pulls a crumpled envelope out of his coat pocket— a residual paycheck from his years playing wheelchair-bound Jimmy Brooks, on the popular teen soap Degrassi. Reluctantly, he signs his name on the back of the check: “Aubrey Graham.”
A man comes up behind him. “Hey, are you…” the man begins, as Drake’s heart pounds, “…in line?” Drake breathes a sigh of relief, and, disguising his voice in a very accurate British accent, replies, “Yes indeed, mate, cheerio!”
Drake approaches the ATM and, looking over both shoulders, inserts his debit card. At the prompt, he places his wrinkled check into the slot. Message: “Check cannot be processed, please try again.” He places it back in. Message: “Check cannot be processed, please try again.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” yells Drake, banging on the ATM screen violently. A bank teller enters.
“Is there a problem here, sir?”
Drake bolts out of the bank, dropping his check on the ground.
“Hey, was that the kid from Degrassi?”