Half Baked Page #6

some sort of drug dealer.

Go get me this Mr. Nice Guy.

- l wanna sit him down

and ask him some questions.

-

- Hey, Squirrel Master.

- Kenny.

Listen, uh, l, uh,

just wanted to say thank you...

for protecting me back there.

- We didn't mind.

Huh ? Did we, Fuzzy Nuts ?

-

l hope there's some way l can pay

you back when we get on the outside.

You better hurry up.

l get out in 11 days.

ls that right ?

Kenny, 11 days ?

That seems a little stiff, man.

Eleven days, Thurgood,

l'm as good as skewered.

Ever take your clothes off

and run backwards through a cornfield ?

- Ooh.

- Hurry, Thurgood.

l'm countin' on you, man !

Please ! Please !

Eleven days wasn't

gonna give us much time.

We really had to hustle, and

that meant takin' on new customers.

Damn, B ! l been set up.

We'll get back to that in a second.

But meanwhile l hadn't seen

Mary Jane in, like, a week.

l couldn't stop thinkin'

about her, man. l missed her.

Then l started thinkin' about

the fact that she was the only

girl l slept with in five years.

Then l started thinkin' about the girl

l slept with before Mary Jane.

l had to get Mary Jane back.

-

- What do you want ?

l want you back, Mary Jane.

l miss you. l'll do whatever

it takes to get you back.

l can't quit sellin' it yet,

but l'll quit smokin' it.

lf that's what you want, then--

then l'll change for you.

- Heard that before.

- Said that before.

But this time l mean it. l'm gonna

come back here. l'm gonna be clean.

l'm gonna be sober.

There's no more weed, no more nothin'.

Mary Jane, you'll see.

l'll be back. l'll be a changed man.

There's a new

Thurgood Jenkins today.

l love you.

Man, that first day

of sobriety sucked.

And l realized something:

l was a real irritable guy

when l wasn't smokin' marijuana.

l couldn't stop thinkin'

about gettin' high.

lt was time to get help.

Hi, everyone.

My name is Thurgood.

- Hi, Thurgood.

- Hi.

l'm here today because

l'm addicted... to marijuana.

-

- You in here because of marijuana ?

Marijuana ?

Man, this is some bullshit !

Marijuana is not a drug.

- l used to suck dick for coke.

- l seen him !

And that's an addiction, man.

- You ever suck dick for marijuana ?

- Huh ?

- No. No, l can't say l have.

- l didn't think so.

- Boo this man !

- Boo !

No.

No !

No !

Devil man.

Devil-- 666--

The mark of the beast !

No ! Naughty !

Naughty jungle of love !

- The man is serious.

- Calm down. How serious can it be ?

He wants to see Mr. Nice Guy.

He told me.

Oh, man.

No, yo !

They killed Killer, B !

Yo, Samson did this, man.

Yo, he killed Killer, man.

- Hey.

- He killed--

l'm gonna call Brian.

- Let's just give him

a proper burial, all right ?

-

l'm sorry, man.

Jesus Christ.

- Oh ! l'm sorry.

- Watch it, man !

You stepped on his head !

l'm sorry.

l didn't even see him.

l gotta smoke.

l have got to smoke.

-

- What happened, man ?

You wanna know what happened ?

l'll tell you what happened.

Samson and his girls

came rollin' up in here lookin' for me.

They was gonna mess me up

if l didn't bring them Mr. Nice Guy.

So they probably

roughed the Guy up,

then they started

goin' to war with the apartment.

They had num-chuks, bolos.

They be doin' lndian burns.

Killer paid the price, yo.

He got the wrath. He got

the wrath of the num-chuks, yo.

l think it's more complex

than that.

- More complex than that ?

- You know what l think happened ?

You want to hear

what l think, man ?

First of all, to understand

what happened to Killer,

you gotta understand

who Killer the dog was.

Now, Killer was born

to a three-legged b*tch mother.

He was always

ashamed of this, man.

And right after that, he's adopted

by this man, Tito Liebowitz.

He's a small-time gunrunner...

and, uh,

rottweiler fight promoter.

So he puts Killer into training.

They see Killer's good.

He is damn good.

But then he had

the fight of his life.

They pit him against

his brother Nibbles.

And Killer said, ''No, man, that's

my brother. l can't fight Nibbles !''

And he made 'em fight anyway.

And then Killer,

he killed Nibbles.

And Killer said, ''That's it.''

He called off all his fights, and he

started doing crack, and he freaked out.

And then in a rage,

he collapsed,

and his heart...

no longer beat.

Wow.

You know, uh,

l never thought l'd say

this to anybody,

but you two smoke

entirely too much reefer.

What if The Guy did it ?

No way. You think ?

Yo ?

Yo, The Guy,

did you kill my dog ?

l believe him, yo.

l don't know why, but l do.

Samson did this sh*t, yo.

Mr. Nice Guy,

Party Accessories.

Well, did you get

my message ?

- Who is this ?

- This is Samson, smarty-pants.

Operator with an

emergency breakthrough from your sister.

Samson, this is Sheila. Mama fell--

Shut up, b*tch !

You tell Mr. Nice Guy

to get his Jamaican ass...

over to my place

at 3:
00 tomorrow !

- Now, you don't want me to get ugly.

- No, sir.

- Sh*t.

- All right. l'll tell 'em.

Oh, my God.

We're in a lot of trouble.

Scarface, perhaps

you could help me.

Why do you think Samson thinks

that Mr. Nice Guy's a Jamaican ?

Oh, 'cause l told him

Mr. Nice Guy was Jamaican, yo.

- Why ?

- l just thought he sounded

Jamaican inside my head.

We're in a lot

of trouble, guys.

We have a meeting

with Samson tomorrow at 3:00.

Where are we gonna get a Jamaican ?

l'll pretend

l'm Jamaican, man.

Yeah.

You have smoked yourself

retarded.

Well, well, well,

if it isn't Mr. Nice Guy.

Welcome to my lair.

Well, now. Tell me

a little bit about yourself.

Well, you know, l be from

Jamaica, man. Lord have mercy.

What part of Jamaica ?

Right near the beach--

Boy

l think

you're bullshitting me.

Samson Simpson,

l stick by my story !

l'm from Jamaica.

lf l wasn't Jamaican, then why

would l wear this hat ? Hmm ?

Delilah,

get me 814.

What the f*** is 814 ?

Oh ! l'm sorry, y'all.

l don't want to be the first n*gger

to die from a crossbow.

You know, l have been

lying to you.

l'm sorry.

Samson, l'm sorry. Okay ?

We-- We just started this

because our friend got locked up.

Brother, you know how that is.

We had to get him outta jail.

Now this

is what's gonna happen.

You make about 40,000,

Sh*t. l wish.

Well, l want half,

$20,000 a week,

or you're dead !

You understand ?

Twenty thousand seems fair.

That seems fair, right guys ? lt's fair.

Class dismissed.

Man, we are

in trouble, man.

Jerry, l really need

your help, man. Feel us--

Brian, will you stop praying to

a bag of sand, man ? Come on.

You heard the man. lf we don't

get this money, we're dead. All of us !

Yo, Thurgood, why don't you get your

boy, The Guy, to lend you some money ?

- You certainly let him

stay here long enough.

- Man, that's Brian's boy.

- l didn't let him stay here.

- l don't know him, man.

- Hey, what day is it ?

- Saturday.

-

- ls it January ?

No, man, it's August.

Oh, wow. August.

-

- Hey, l couldn't help

overhearing you guys.

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