Dude and Dude: The 8 Team

“Ya know, dude, there really oughta be less hate in tha world, yeah?”

“Not sure ’bout this, dude. Y’fraid yer mother will faint?”

“Hate, dude. Not ain’t. We did that a’ready. ‘Member?”

“Oh. Yeah. Right. But ain’t that gonna confuse a lot a peeps?”

“What, not hatin’? Why? ‘Cause they won’t know what ta do wit’ themselves, they ain’t got no one ta beat up on?”

“Nah, that ain’t it. They won’t know what ta do wit’ themselves if’n they have ta count from, like, seven ta nine, skippin’ tha eight alla tha time.”

“Whut?”

“An’ if ya think tha peeps are gonna get freaked out, wait’ll ya see what it does ta tha computers, yeah?”

“They’d hate that, dude. An’ like I’m tryin’ ta tell ya, there oughta be less hate in tha world. So it ain’t gonna happen!! Got it?!”

“Right. So … oh yeah, I got it. It’s about the license plates!”

“What license plates??”

“Aw get off it, dude, you know tha ones I mean. Ya seen ’em alla tha time, same as me. Tha plates a dude gets when he’s got, like, a big refund from Uncle Sam, goes braggin’ ’bout it wit’ the plates he puts on tha new car he got, an’ he spells it TX REB8 so’s he c’n fit tha brag in tha six characters tha DMV gives ya. Fewer eights, less braggin’.”

“Why are ya baitin’ me, dude?”

“Re-baitin’. Now whatcha doin’?”

“Countin’ ta ten, dude.”

“Eleven.”

“Ten.”

“Eleven. Look, dude, yer tha one makin’ tha rules here. Ya wanna ten-count an’ you don’t got eights no more, ya gotta count ta eleven, amirite?”

“NOT EIGHT, dude.”

“Well why tha hell didn’t ya say so in tha first place?? No wonder yer crabby if’n ya ain’t ate, ya must be starvin’! Gimme a twenty an’ I’ll run an’ get us some hamburgers. I’ll pay ya back Tuesday.”

“Get me a can a spinach instead.”

“Ew. Why?”

“So’s I c’n open tha can wit’ my teeth, cram it down wit’ one gulp, an’ wipe tha floor wit’ yer dead body!! Dude.”

“Yeesh! So much fer wantin’ less hate in tha world.”

“Du-UUUUUUUUUDE!!!!”