Gotta know a guy.

Sometimes, people do things you gotta “know a guy” for.

A play.

(Scene: Outside on a brightly lit, sunny day. Four unremarkable 18-24 year olds, two male, two female, stand in front of a Taco Bell. They’re discussing the new sayings on the hot sauce packets and wondering why one of the hotness-levels is now colored green when an older man approaches.)

Peb: I’m going to get a Mexican pizza combo meal with an extra burrito and two soft tacos.

Spohan: I’ll have six quesadillas and a cheese roll. With an extra cup of cheese. Please.

Lyra: Hm, I was thinking more along the lines of a cheesy potato burrito with a cheesy potato taco. And maybe a potato bowl to dip it in.

Spearla: Nah dude. 89 cent burrito and a soft taco with no lettuce. Fuck to the yeah. And a strawberry frutista. That’s fruit, right?

Lyra: Yeah dude, that’s fruit. Lemme hit that when you get it, got wicked 0h-mams.

(The older man has approached.)

Osama: Hey, you wanna buy some weed?

Peb, Spohan, Lyra, Spearla together: Yeah. Yeah dude. Whatever. Sure.

Osama: I give you.. one ounce! Thirty dollah!

(In a whisper to Lyra)

Spearla: Hey, we should ask if he’s part of the Taliban.

Lyra, whispering back: Yeah, get Spo to talk, he’s the most foreign one here.

Spohan: Hey, you aren’t part of the Taliban, right?

Osama: DEATH TO THE AMERICAN INFIDELS!

Lyra: Whoa, calm down bro. Spohan, bad idea. Shut the fuck up. Osama, sir, did you say 30 dollar ounce?

Osama: Yes. I like your country very much, I apologize for my outburst. I love America.

Spearla: Awesome. Hey, someone should pay him.

Osama: Yes, before I blow up Taco Bell.

Peb: Why the fuck would you do that? Taco Bell is fucking delicious and offers a very affordable price spectrum.

Spohan: Here’s 30 dollars. (Handing money to Osama. A jingle is heard.)

Spohan: Sorry.. some of it’s in nickels.

(Upon receiving the cash, Osama opens his trench coat and hands Zohan a wadded up burrito wrapper.)

Spearla: Thanks dude!

(Osama shuffles away, mumbling about a wire.)

Lyra: Can we get our food now? We’ve been standing here for five minutes dicking around.

Peb: Sure. I’ll go order.

(Peb walks inside the Taco Bell.)

(Spohan pulls out the wadded paper and a mini bong. He begins crunching the weed up and packing it. A smell emits.)

Spearla: Wow. This is the first and probably only time I’m ever going to call not-it on greens. Er. Browns, I guess.

(Peb returns with a tray of Taco Bell with about 7 inches of food piled on to it. In his hand, he has a bag of sauce.)

Peb: What smells like corn?

Lyra: That pot we just bought from the terrorist.

Spohan: It has fucking bugs in it.

Peb: I don’t care, I’ll smoke it. Pass it here.

(Peb tokes mightily. Soon, he begins coughing and spitting on the ground.)

Peb: You know the corn smell? Because that’s the same as the taste.

(Peb passes the bong to Lyra, who also tokes mightily.)

Lyra: Corn pot. Fuck man. Give me that frutista to get the taste out of my mouth.

(Lyra passes the bong to Spohan, who puts his burrito down and tokes mightily.)

Spohan: We should burn this. Not like, in that good way. But like, in a fire.

(Takes the bong from Spohan and gives it once last mighty toke.)

Spearla: This is the worst fucking weed ever.

-END-