Dude and Dude: Any Takers?

“OK, dude, where’d ya get tha shirt?”

“It’s gnarly stuff, dude! Magic tablets, good fer what ails ya. Ya oughta take some yerself!”

“Not gonna do it, dude.”

“Yeah? Like why not? Ya scared a some kinda reaction ‘r somethin’?”

“Uh huh.”

“From what?!? Tha stuff’s been tested six ways from Sunday …”

“From tha cops, dude. Ya idiot. Ya ain’t saposed ta take stuff, yer saposed ta pay fer it! Less’n ya been a good li’l dude and, on account a b’cause a that, mebbe somebody’ll give ya somethin’. An’ I’m pretty sure yer payperblaug posts ain’t winnin’ ya enuff bread ta buy tha pills an’ pay yer share a tha rent both. So, like, where didya get tha shirt??”

“Ya dig, dude, a dude c’ld take offense at this …”

“Yeah right. An’ what’ya gonna do wit’ that fence afta ya took it? It ain’t ‘zactly gonna fit in yer bedroom.”

“Make him run his operation outa my bedroom an’ earn his keep! Wha’d’ya think I was gonna do, dude?!?”

“So ya’ve gone klepto on me? Is that yer take on takin’?!?”

“Oh fer cryin’ … ya got any ibuprofen on ya?”

“Think so. Why?”

“So I c’n take ’em from ya an’ give ’em ta tha headache I’m gettin’.”

“Yeah? An’ mebbe I’m tired a tha give an’ take, yeah?”

“Dude?”

“Yeah?”

“You been talkin’ wit’ OC again?!?”