The story:

Fred to my left was describing how he got his dog these implants, but it turns out they actually put cacti there, so it turns out bestality is officially hardcore when it includes plants covered in spikes. I believe he said that you can replace cacti with porcupines.

Brian Washington on my right, the one looking like he's about to explode due to being told he is homosexual, is explaining how he was battling a magical dragon and casting magic spells at it and then he passed out in a puddle of his own vomit and woke up in a drool-laced lake of vomit and old hotdogs with swordmarks all along the walls of his apartment leading all the way to a strip club. We managed to figure it out using Einstein's Theory of Relativity that E=MC Squaredpants. Then, we found a dead hooker in the trunk of his dove-drawn chariot and deduced it was the dragon that had shapeshifted with its last breath to make it SEEM like Brian was a murderer but he isn't...well...at least not for the past week or so). We thought the cops would be too stupid to realize this and decided to dump the body and burn down the strip club because it was a potential dragon's nest. Fucking dragons.

The man supporting me is demonstrating proper handsigns to show my allegiance to crips. This is to make sure they don't mistake me for a vampire and so they don't throw handfuls of some sticky white globs at me. It tasted like semen mixed with skeet and cum, but with a hint of nutmeg.

The guy behind Fred is trying to figure out if he missplaced his double-bladed axe in his pants or if he's just drunk.