it's that basuco ese.

Exchange #1:

Peachpot: ay yo! neverending hologram! how's the ether search going?

Neverending Hologram: not too well p.p. and time's a-wastin'

Peachpot (strokes scraggled beard): sucks man. there is one thing you could try...

Neverending Hologram: i mean i really had my heart set on ether peachpot.

Peachpot (staring at plane overhead): well sometimes you just gotta roll my friend.

Neverending Hologram: so what were you thinkin?

Peachpot: basuco man!

Neverending Hologram: eh?

Peachpot: basuco man!

Neverending Hologram: no, i heard you fuckstick. what the fuck? enlighten.

Peachpot: yeah, basuco. wacky mix-up of crack residue, gasolina, and other assorted chemicals that may or may not be carcinogenic. lab tests are pending. gets you twisted.

Neverending Hologram: i don't know peachpot. sounds dangerous.

Peachpot (shaking head vigorously): nah man. basuco's straight. homeless slims and street kids living in the sewers of bogota smoke that ish to keep they minds right. gotta duck the paramilitary death squads ya know. social cleansings on the rise. if it's good enough for them, it's good enough for you, right?

Neverending Hologram: yeah i guess you're right p.p. i don't know. i'll think about i guess.

Peachpot: yeah. shit mang, what the fuck am i doin talking to you? late for methadone. gotta maintain homie.

Neverending Hologram: orale homes. tell pookie i said gimme my damn money.

Peachpot: i promise i will.

End Scene.

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