Covergirl - "Chemicals"

"You got the password?" a grimy nose peeked out from the crack of a chain-pad door.

Sammy did not have the password. He had come because he needed drugs so that he could cut the drugs and sell them out to dumbasses in his neighbourhood cause he needed a lot of fuckin money right away. He stared dead in the eye of the stinky nose that grimed out from this crack. "Penny?"

Penny was the real name of the beautiful wife of the horrible dealer who had his office inside. Penny was a goddess, all pink and tight and taut and teeth. She was so nice. When you'd do blow in the back room off the broken pool tables she'd bring Long Island Ice Teas and smile so pretty. But nobody knew her real name was Penny. Everybody just called her P because that was what the horrible drug dealer called her, and whenever anybody would ask, "Hey, P, what's that stand for?" the dealer would give them a look like he was going to kill them and he'd tell them to shut up. Some of the guys thought it was Patricia or Polly or Penelope or something like that. But one night when Sammy was leaving at glow-sky dawn, he woke up from a plush bench pass-out and realized his head was in her lap, like she was a pillow. Nobody saw, so he just smiled and went to leave, and she said, "You can call me Penny."

So to get into this room, with this chain-pad door and this grimy stink-nose pokin' its way out the side, he gritted his teeth and said, "Penny?"

The door chunked open and Sammy stepped inside.

Das Racist - "Michael Jackson"

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