“Can you tell me your name sir?” The news reporter asks, holding a microphone to Marshall’s mouth. The apartment building caught on fire, the reporters were here to get the story.

“Yeah, all I know is I’m upstairs, I’m listening to my Will Smith CD and I just see all these flames going everywhere. Pshh! Pshh! Phew phew!” Marshall was so obviously high it was painful to watch.

“Okay…Well we’re going to go on to someone else—“ the reporter started but quickly got the microphone pulled back to Marshall.

“Hold on a minute, bitch” he said, and starts rapping something but the only word is Detroit.

“Detroit, Detroit, d-d-d-Detroit,” The reporter is obviously attempting to slowly back up from the intoxicated Marshall Mathers.