"So, I was at the club, right?"
"You're asking me? I'm interviewing you."
"cough cough...So I'm at the club, right?"
"Ok, you're at the club. Can you tell us what happened?"
"No."
"No? Then why am I interviewing you? I should have hung up with you when you addressed me as 'Bitch'. Why did I take this job?"
"...crickets......"
"Hello? Are you still there?"
"cough...sorry. Ok, so I'm at da club, right?"
"Yes, we've established that. What are you smoking? Can I have some? I have a feeling I'll need it to get through this interview."
"Ok, so I'm at da club, right? And this...(unintelligible)...jumps...expletive...expletive...(unintelligible)..."
"Since I didn't catch any of that and am losing IQ points just listening to you, I'm going to fabricate my own answer to move this along. So you were jumped by some of Suge's thugs?"
"Uh huh."
"Good, something I can work with. So they jumped you. And you punched Suge in retaliation. Let me ask another easy question. How did it feel to knock Suge out? Did you feel as good as you feel now? I'm assuming you feel pretty good. You sound like you're overdosing on something."
"It felt great, ya know. I have a big hand...(unintelligible)."
"I bet. It probably gets a lot of use, huh? Tell me, what did you do after you realized you knocked Suge out?"
"I ran, ya know? You don't mess with guys like that."
"But you did. Clearly you are a smart man. Listen, I hate to run but my head has an appointment with a microwave oven. Take a really big hit of whatever you're having and go dodge cars on the freeway. I need to go and think heavily on the path my life has taken to get me to this moment. I actually conducted an interview with an ignorant, drug crazed, sucker punching coward who addressed me as 'bitch'. I don't think it can get any lower than this. Thanks for your time between hits."