“Good news, dude!”
“They’ve posted the 2015 swimsuit issue, dude?!?”
“News, dude. News. Save tha booby prizes fer later, this here’s important like. ‘Specially fer us. OC’s officially a acceptable human bein’.”
“[…] Uh, dude?”
“What?”
“OC don’ drink coffee. An’ ‘case ya ain’t looked lately, he ain’t no stringbean no more. If he ever wuz, which I doubt. So what’s wit’ this bean stuff?”
“BE-in’, dude. Not ‘bean’. BE-in’. He’s a human bein’, dig?”
“Ya tryin’ ta run a sting on me, dude?!? First ya call OC a vegetable, now yer labelin’ him a insect! Keep this up, yer likely ta get yerself control-Xed!”
“Command-Xed!!”
“Suit yerself, dude. Ya’ll be virtually dead either way.”
“Argh. Look, dude. OC got recruited fer this job, yeah? Made him a offer an’ ever’thin’. But then they had ta work out if’n he was really good ’nuff for ’em. So they put him through this background check, see if’n he’d pass it.”
“So that’s where they planted tha bean? In tha background?”
“Dam thin’ took any longer, that bean coulda grown inta a tree!”
“An’ how come they always want tha background anyhow? Ya got a place, ya got ground inna front an’ probably both sides too, yeah? Unless it’s like a really weird place, ya know. So fer why no one asks ’bout tha frontground, huh?”
“‘Cause ya don’t usually bury tha bodies in front where ever’one can see ’em, amirite?”
“What bodies?!?”
“Tha ones OC ain’t got, so they couldn’ find none. Background, frontground, sideground, cluelessdudeground.”
“Hey!”
“Deal. An’ so, OC got tha job. Good thing too. Somebody gotta pay tha internet bill, we wanna keep our thing goin’ here.”
“Word. But I been thinkin’.”
“Thought I smelled somethin’ burnin’.”
“Ha. Ha ha. Ha. So riddle me this, smartass. Whaddaya get when ya cross a bean wit’ a tropical island?”
“Dunno, an’ ain’t sure I wanna …”
“A blue legume.”
“Du-UUUUUUDE!!“
Dude.