I made Dr. Dre cry.

Dre and I were hanging out on his giant pimpin' yacht thing and we were having a fine time discussing life and happiness and things of that nature, when, all of the sudden, the boat came to a jarring, grinding halt. We had run into something, and much to our distress, the boat began to sink.

I find myself among many pieces of flotsam from the sunken ship. Dre is unconscious, draped over a piece of floating wreckage. I look around in the debris and find a small suitcase full of hundred-dollar bills. I take the piece of luggage and swim to shore.

I go to a bank to deposit my money into my savings account. And through the door Dre comes and walks up to me. He is still visibly shaken by the wreck. Apparently he has lost all his belongings in the wreck and now was homeless and broke. He asks me what I'm doing at the bank. I turn to hide the suitcase behind me, in hopes of him not seeing it, but it was too late. "Hey, that looks like my money-suitcase." "Oh, what an odd coincidence." "Wait a second...there's water dripping out of the bottom of that thing! That is my suitcase!" "Ohhhhh, so THIS is your's?" "You were trying to hide that money from me! I thought we were friends!" He then broke down and started crying.

I'm not really guilty about making him cry though. I never did like Dr. Dre that much