“Dude! OC wants me to do what?!?”
“He wants ya ta help him out, dude.”
“By standin’ here posin’ like some idiot statue, holdin’ a flatfish like a torch?”
“Count yer blessin’s, dude. He coulda had ya wearin’ ’em like shoes!”
“Ewww!! That’s not what I meant when I said tha otha day that I needed new soles, dude. What tha hell’s goin’ on? Has OC been gettin ’nuff sleep?”
“Matter a fact, he ain’t. Between heavy work duty an’ tha show he’s playin’ in tha pit fer, he’s like gettin’ ’bout as much sleep as he’s been gettin’ time fer anythin’ else.”
“Like what?”
“Like writin’ ’bout us, dude. Which is where you come in.”
“Yeah?”
“Until he gets time ‘n en’rgy ta write somethin’ here worth readin’ …”
“Yeah?”
“Wait fer it, dude …”
“Yeah?!?”
“He needs a pla(i)ceholder, dude!”
“Du-UUUUUUUDE!“