"Oh, my! So very tasty indeed! Tell me, Simon: Where did you procure doja of such a high quality of sweetness? I am getting thoroughly fucked up off of the fumes, my boy."
"A dealer down the block, father. His name is Akbar. He wears much golden jewelry about his neck and fingers and smells much like the Tommy Hilfiger cologne."
"Oh, yes, the Persian. Of course. Those Persians can always be counted on to provide the illest of that super-sticky. God and Queen, bless the brown-skins and their wacky tobaccy!"
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