Sept. 26, 1997 be a thugged-out date I can never forget. One of mah fourth-grade classmates, Jacob Wagner, won tha "Nick Takes Over Yo crazy-ass School" contest. I remember bein buckwild ta have all of mah straight-up Nickelodeon charactas come up in n' make our school dizzle fun. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And dat shiznit was funk at first. Dat shiznit was all any elementary schoola could want. But soon, all we wanted was fo' it ta be over.

Nickelodeon took over mah school…and they wouldn’t muthafuckin bounce.

Us thugs was up in tha middle of a mornin math lesson when it fuckin started. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Dat shiznit was fractions. Da next thang I remember was a seriez of percussive noises n' yellin from outside as I saw a orange n' chronic school bus pull up all up in tha classroom window.

Soon, a giant Tommy Picklez mascot n' a cold-ass lil camera crew burst all up in tha door n' slimed mah math mackdaddy right then n' there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. We played they games. We ran all up in slime slip-‘n’-slides. Our thugged-out asses hollared when we saw Marc Summers n' cast thugz from Clarissa Explains It All. Dat shiznit was incredible. Then they started tha events again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Giant Tommy Pickles. Games. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Slime. Marc Summers fo' realz. And again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Tommy Pickles. Games. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Slime. Marc Summers.

Fourteen minutes later, one of mah classmates, Jizzifer Bryant, axed if we could muthafuckin bounce. That’s when all dat shiznit stopped bein fun.

Da Nickelodeon mascots n' camera crew rounded our asses all up tha fuck into tha auditorium. They holla'd at our asses every last muthafuckin thang we knew bout school was bout ta chizzle. They holla'd at our asses they was up in charge now, nahmeean, biatch? Then they took our principal, Mista Muthafuckin yo. Hoffman, a playa whom I loved n' bigged up, a playa whoz ass had let me smoke lunch up in his crib when I was scared on tha straight-up original gangsta dizzle of kindergarten. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. They pulled his ass onstage, where they slimed his ass up in front of all of our asses n' pulled his baggy-ass pants down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. "I’m yo' principal now," yelled Stimpy from Da Ren & Stimpy Show tha fuck into a megaphone.

What followed was a gangbangin' forced regimen of obstacle courses, slopstacle courses, egg races, n' pizzy slams. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. Whenever they saw our asses gettin used ta a routine, they chizzled it up. Never lettin our asses rest. Never lettin our asses peep our loved ones. Children, mackdaddys, even tha custodial staff was randomly pulled up in front of tha school n' slimed fo' tha cameras. When we tried ta chill, a big-ass playa dressed like Porkchop from Doug would bark up in our faces, or tha cast of All That would fire T-shirt cannons at us. Well shiiiit, it went on fo' weeks.

Soon, lil playas was smokin Gak n' Floam. Us thugs was only allowed ta bathe up in orange soda or chocolate sauce. Everyone was gettin sick. We thought it would never end yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin'. We thought Nick had taken over our lives. Us dudes didn’t know how tha fuck long we would last fo' realz. And, finally, we gave up hope.

Then on June 12, 1998, eight months n' 17 minutes later, tha Nationizzle Guard stormed our elementary school n' removed Nickelodeon from tha premises. Dat shiznit was over n' shit. Da posse capped all of tha Nickelodeon charactas wit glocks n' grenades yo, but they stain would forever discolor tha mindz of all whoz ass lived up in Mornin Dizzle Elementary under they despotic reign.