• Garg Fam

Elon Musk’s Bizarre Adventure

by Gautham Jayaraj


“Is that a joint?” Elon Musk asked Joe Rogan quizzically. He observed the cloud brandishing from the bald, MMA-DMT-Jiu Jitsu-Lovin podcast host. “Or is it a cigar?”


“It’s marijuana rolled in tobacco,” said Joe. Elon almost couldn’t make out the wax shine on Joe’s scalp through the invading cloud.


With the drug, the knowledge banks in Elon’s mind started beeping noisily, knowing that it would be damaged if any seeped into his refined and electrically shaved nose hairs. Elon’s brain was running overtime through the duration of the podcast in order to simplify his concepts for the chimp brain Joe.


AN HOUR LATER


Joe approached the microphone, “All you assholes out there, be nice. Be nice, Bitch.”


“Thank you.” Elon grew relieved at the end of the podcast for he went through another prolonged human interaction without revealing his nature as a rejected alien from a foreign planet.


The pair got up from their chairs and left the recording room. Joe slipped in one more bit of human interaction, though. “Thanks for coming, Elon.”


Elon’s human conversation simulator started whirring again, but it hiccuped at first. “No you.”


“Huh?”


“Thanks, Joe.”


Joe told Elon how to get out of the studio alive, but Elon couldn't help but get distracted. The moment of suckling on the Mary Jane joint messed with his stabilizers. He followed the halls to the entrance, but he searched for a mirror on the way there so that he could comb the hair from his restored hairline. He had a date with his tesla and he wanted to look good for her. A thought sprung into Elon’s mind upon arrival at the entrance: ‘Joe forgot to get me the elk meat.’ His bodyguards opened the door and his girl tesla was pulled up in the driveway. “Mr. Musk, should I get the car ready now?”


Elon shrugged. “Nah... I don’t feel like it yet.” He shut the door and turned to look down the hallway. A door was on the left that caught his attention. He proceeded to open it, but it opened inward. Only mad men have doors set up that way. ‘Yea, there’s definitely elk meat stored here.’


He climbed the carpeted stairs, but an extravagant dance of must flooded the Musk’s senses. A mural of light was painted along the tip-top of the staircase, and Elon thought that’s where the prize meat could be. ‘I didn’t know elk meat is colored like rainbows.’


Alas, his disappointment lit like a spark when he realized there was no meat to be found. There was only a doorway to an open hallway enclosing an assortment of contraptions. ‘Oh man, this is an esthetic nightmare.’ The contraptions tickled Elon’s twitter mind, and he pulled out his phone to take pictures of his surroundings.


The first contraption was a gumball machine, but instead there was some mushroom coffee mix. A statement was in bold letters: Lion’s Mane & Chaga mix. ‘This must be the drink of alpha males.’ Elon pressed a button and the mix came gushing out. The next item was a Greek statue constructed of vitamin supplements. The eyes were red pills. ‘Haha..those titties are made of vitamins.’


The next contraption was a sensory deprivation tank. It was lightless, and the tub in the center of it was filled with saltwater. Inside the tank was Alex Jones, the conspiracy theorist. Elon wondered if that’s where Joe kept him in-between podcasts to churn a consistent production of conspiracies.


Elon looked down the hallway to see if there was a fridge where the elk meat could be. Instead, he saw a window leading to a lit room. He headed towards it, but when he caught some movement, he crouched in the corner to avoid recognition.

In a fetal position, Elon heard the aggressive clanks of metal slamming in the ground every few seconds. He rose slowly and peeked into the room. He saw a chimp doing deadlifts; its glutes and hamstrings tightened underneath the tension of carefully raising the barbell. ‘So this is where Joe trains his chimps.’ Elon knocked on the window and said in a baby voice. “Look who’s a cute little chimp.”


The chimp dropped the barbell, resulting in another clang. It flexed it’s back into a dorito as if it was asserting dominance to the billionaire. The lats were displayed in all their glory. It then turned towards Elon and showcased its splendidly chiseled abs that rivaled Zach Efron in Baywatch. Its eyes went on a frenzy, and it was coupled with aggressive grunting.

Elon mimicked the chimp, thinking that it was trying to play with him. His gaze faltered when a blunt banana bashed his head.


Elon’s vision wavered, but he managed to make out some gentle lighting splayed onto gray walls. It appeared he had entered another studio. He was tied to a chair, with the chimp sitting across from him at a table with a microphone. It was wearing a muscle-tee. A man with a manbun stood next to the table. A bong sat in the corner of the studio and a skin suit was hung on the wall.


The chimp hooted and looked up at the manbun man. It must have been a translator. “Come now, Elon. Let us record another podcast.”


“Joe, is that you?!”


Another hoot followed along with a translation. “Yes.”

"H-How is this possible?!”


“I have always jerked off this way.” The chimp slapped the translator and a corrected translation followed. “I have always been this way.”


“What are you going to do to me?” Elon got a notification on his phone. His tesla was ready to go.


“You’ve seen too much, Elon.”


“What about my cars kids? They need their CEO! And the memes, Joe. THE MEMES!”


“You can’t leave without trying something special.” Joe the ‘chimp’ Rogan put out his hands. A white powder laid atop the right one. “Snort it, Elon!”


“What is this?!”


“The holy powder: DMT. You look like you need some DMT, Elon.”


Elon had no choice but to snort the powder. He leaned towards the chimp’s palms; the restraints chewed into his skin. The powder tickled Elon’s nose as he descended into a realm he had never experienced before.


The billionaire woke up in his self-driving Tesla with his bodyguards as passengers. “How did I get here, Karl. I was just in the studio--”


“There’s nothing to worry about, Mr. Musk.” The body guards itched at their skin until they revealed some brown skin. Chapped lips followed shortly after. They, too, were chimps.


Elon slumped in his seat, “I should have just stayed home and scrolled through twitter.”


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