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: [Damon splashes water on Money Mike
] Did you pee on me? Damon
: Wake yo' bitch-ass up, lucky charms. I like my fish wet and squirmy. Money Mike
: I thought I was dreaming. You almost drowned me, nigga. Damon
: Oh, you're dreaming. This is a wet dream.
: Craig and Day-Day. Day-Day
: Ohh... Damon
: Just the niggas I need to see. Craig Jones
: Yo, yo... what's up O.G. Triple O.G... O.G. triple... triple O.G.? Day-Day
: You got out last night? Damon
: I haven't seen ya'll in about 12 years, nigga. Day-Day
: I know, I was little... Damon
: You're grown up now, though. Give a nigga a hug, dog. Day-Day
: I'm about to go...
[Craig grabs Day-Day and runs him into Damon
: [Damnon grabs Day-Day
] Yeah, man. It's cool, dog. It's cool. Come here. Yeah, right there. Damon
: [Damon looks at Craig
] Group hug, nigga! Day-Day
: Come on, Craig!
[Craig walks to Damon
] Craig Jones
: What's up, dog. Damon
: What's up, nigga. Damon
: It's good to be home. 'Cause in prison dog, hey... ain't nothing but the fellas, nigga. Day-Day
: I heard.
: [while holding Damon's balls with a vice grips
] Are you a music lover, Damon? Damon
: Y... yes Money Mike
: Well, have you ever heard of the nutcracker?
[squeezes Damon's balls with the vice grips
: [looking at Money Mike with crazed lust
] Craig, introduce me to yo' friend.
: Momma where you goin? Mrs. Pearly
: Im goin to make my daily rounds Damon
: Can you make me a sandwhich when you get back? Mrs. Pearly
: Make your own damn sandwich!
: [while Money Mike has plyers on his testicles
] ya know maybe we can get to know each other Money Mike
: Shut up! The hell you talkin bout! I am a boy! You are not in prison anymore Damon! Thats not how we do it!
: Y'all look good in y'all little tight-ass rent-a-cop outfits. Merry Christmas, niggettes.
: You ain't evictin' nobody, 'less you got a motherfuckin' army wit you. Mrs. Pearly
: I don't need no army, Mr. Smart-ass. My son Damon home right now. Craig Jones
: DAMON? Craig Jones
: [in narrative
] I had a nightmare 'bout that fool last night. Damon
: [flashes to dream; Damon walks into Craig and Day-Day's prison cell
] Day-Day. Craig. Which one of you bitches is gonna wash my drawers tonight? Craig Jones
: [pointing to each other
] That would be him.
[Damon tosses his laundry on both of them
: I wash on Sundays... anyway. Craig Jones
: Starch or press? Damon
: Starch, nigga!
: What you need to do is grab one of these fine females and get your boogie on. Damon
: I don't wanna dance with none of these hos.
: Who's that? Craig Jones
: That's, uh... that's Donna. Damon
: Who da nigga she with? Craig Jones
: Oh, that's just Money Mike, little Lucky Charms, micro-mini pimp. Damon
: Yeah, that nigga look magically delicious.
: Got my shank in case shit jump off in this motherfucker.