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