A poor work of satire, in which two survivors of the Reverse Bukkake craze of the Bush years converse in regards to obtaining equipment, so that they may better themselves financially.


Phone ringing......the curtains drawn, rays of washed out sunlight poking their way through the holes.

'Uhhh...hello?'

'Yo, Steele, it's Knox, wake yo ass up.'

'Dude, it's like 3 in the afternoon, what the fuck?'

'I gotta big score, it's beautiful baby, quick in and out and we're done.'

'I told you, I'm out of the game, I've moved on with my life. I gotta shit load of YouTubing to do and massacre victims to insult now.'

'Just hear me out baby, Bukkake Mike rang we this morning. He's tired of being an outsider looking in, he wants to get mad dollars making spooge movies. Maybe a few tears too late, but hey, don't hate like those fanbois. He's got a warehouse in Reseda all set up, got the convicts clamouring to line up and pull themselves off...only this time, he ain't gonna pay them anything. Boy is a genius. His connect told him where the shit's at. Get ready for Florida son.'

'Florida? That's like a week on a bus dude, and I ain't got the time for that shit anymore. Besides, we ain't connected there, how the fuck we gonna get out? And dude, I ain't a member of the public library system there, how can I bore everyone on LIB and reply to my own comments?'

'It's all good, Mike was talking to the man in Siam, he's got a tiki boat we can lay low in till the heat dies down. I think there's wi-fi, but you gotta leach it of someone nearby. Or buy some pre-paid?'

'Dude, what? I ain't got that kind of scratch. Tell me what the job is, and I'll think about it.....'

'Cameras mang, we can be living like the true porn kings we were destined to be. You can film all the content you want for YouTube, shit man, film the motherfucking LAPD all day until they get sick of it and beat the shit out of you. Get you a sweet payout from the city.'

'I'm interested. But dude, can you lend me the bus fare?'

'Man, shit's tight enough as is. My mom wants rent, and the pipe is a demanding mistress. Shit, I'll be out of credit after this call. Why don't you borrow off your moms? Or better yet, play guitar on the street and read shitty poetry in a loud voice. It's Hollywood, people just think you're crazy and give you money...2 days of that and you'll have enough for the plane. Think about it....the plane!'

'OK, I'm in. Just let me leave my cell phone somewhere in Van Nuys. I ain't getting caught like that again. That way, if anything goes wrong with the phone, I can talk about it in 2019 on LIB and complain about the person who did me the favor.'

'Aight...later baby. Call me when you got the dollars...we gonna show all those fanbois who the true playas are. Peace baby.'