Dude and Dude: Nitrogeniuses

“Dude?”

“They’re tanks, dude.”

“Yer welcome. Uh … wha’d I do?”

“Listen. Not. I said, they’re tanks.”

“WHO-ah! Don’t point them things at me!”

“Huh?”

“The cannons on them tanks, dude! Ya didn’t tell me we were in a war zone!”

“It’s New York, dude.”

“Yeah! Like I said!”

“Dude. Make sense, willya?”

“Ya want me ta go inta counterfeitin’? On Wall Street?!?”

“Yeah. Nickel an’ dime ’em ta death. Look, dude, New York ain’t declared war on nobody, not even Tampa – at least, not yet – and they ain’t no cannons on them tanks. They’re nitrogen tanks.”

“Can’t be.”

“Why not? It says right on the la …”

“It’s broad daylight, dude. They can’t be nightrogen tanks, at least not ’til sundown. They gotta be …”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m Dude, remember? Dayogen tanks!”

“‘Daylight come an’ me wanna go home.'”

“Is that a song?”

“Yeah. The Banana Boat song. It’s about hard labor. Like havin’ ta listen ta you.”

“An’ ya think it’s got appeal?”

“Yeah. Of a faraway place. Where it’s quiet.”

“Well, dude, have a nice trip. Watch that first step, it’s a doozy.”

“Back o’ me hand ta you, too, dude.”

“Gotta reach me first, dude. Where’d ya say this was again?”

“New York, dude.”

“Oh, OK, then, that works. Ya sure it ain’t, like, Texas?”

“I’m sure. Why?”

“‘Cause then y’d need yer iPhone ta talk about ’em.”

“Don’ tell me …”

“‘TXtrogen'”. An’ then there’s, California, an’ Massachusetts, an’ …”

“Dude?”

“Yeah?”

“Say ‘goodnight, dude.'”

“Goodnight, dude. Ya make me do tha strangest things …”