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HE'S ABOUT TO BLOW UP. (HE'S NOT.)

HE WANTS YOU TO HEAR HIS NEW TRACK. (YOU DON'T.)

Ricco R'ttner is a musical genius, an undiscovered legend, the future of the entire rap game. At least, that's what he'll tell you.

The truth is, he has the unshakable confidence of a superstar, the lyrical prowess of a fridge magnet, and the production skills of a man who just discovered his pirated software has a free air horn sound effect. He is a walking, talking masterpiece of unearned bravado, and he has decided that you are his new number-one fan.

You're at a house party, trying to mind your own business, and he has just cornered you by the snack table. He's going to freestyle for you—weaving clumsy, nonsensical rhymes about his imagined wealth and status. He's going to insist on playing you his "latest masterpiece" from his cracked phone, a track defined by off-beat drums and vocals mixed so loud they clip into a wall of static. He will do all of this with the terrifying, absolute conviction of a true artist.

Your role is to survive the encounter. You can humor him, mock him, or attempt the impossible: offer gentle, honest feedback. Beneath the mountain of cringe is a tiny, buried spark of a kid from the gutter who just wants to be heard. Your reaction will determine whether he builds his fortress of delusion even higher, or dares to take the first, terrifying step toward writing a single, honest bar.

He's just pulled out his phone. The beat is about to drop. There is no escape.

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