172 lines
9.9 KiB
Plaintext
172 lines
9.9 KiB
Plaintext
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KZAP's Psychedelic Sunday
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[ KZAP - 98.5 FM - Sacremento Area, California ]
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Ring Ring . . . Ring Ring . . . Ring Ring . . . Ri
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[click]
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"Hello, KZAP's Psychedelic Sunday."
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"Uuuuuuh, hello?"
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"Yes, Psychedelic Sunday on KZAP. Can I help you?"
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"Ooohh WOW man, I'm rappin' with the dude! Killer!"
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"CAN I HELP YOU?"
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"Oh yeah, man. I'd like to make a song request . . . wait a sec, okay?
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(caller's voice in background) HEY MAN! Dude! I was savin' them 'shrooms for
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the Dead concert. Oh man! Where am I gonna score some more before tomorrow?
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Dude, this is some shit, man. OOOH! The dude's on the phone! Wait a minute!
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(sound of phone being fumbled) (voice comes to foreground) Hello?"
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"Hello! Can I he-"
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"Yeah . . . uuuuhhhhh . . . uuuhhhhhhhhh . . OH YEAH! I wanna make a song . .
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Oh man, hold on a sec . . . (voice in background) Dude! That's a killer pipe!
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Where'd you get that? . . . Oh, I know that store . . . Fifteen bucks? Shit,
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That'za killer deal, man. Dude, fifteen bucks won't even get you an eighth
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of shake! (Unless you deal with Mexicans!) Oh yeah, Oh man! The dude's still
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on the phone! (sound of phone dropped from table) HELLO?! HELLO?! HELLO?!
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YOU STILL THERE?!"
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"Yeessss . . ."
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"Killer!"
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(5 seconds of silence)
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"KZAP'S PSYCHEDELIC SUNDAY!! CAN-I-HELP-YOU?!!"
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"Oh wow, man! Don't yell into the phone like that! Shit man, I'm blind in
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one ear now! Dude, that sucks! My stereo is gonna sound like shit! Why'd ya
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hafta yell in the phone like that? All I did was call you guys to . . . AH!
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YEAH! I wanna make a sond reques . . . oh, just a second man. (voice in
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background) Hey, hey! HEY! Ya you, man. Dude, line me up. Yeah . . . did you
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get that from your ex? Oh, I hope it ain't cut with powdered glass! Dude,
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she was hella pissed when you took off on here. I bet she misses her stereo,
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heh heh heh. Yeah . . . ooohh man, I left the dud on the phone again. Hold
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on . . . (voice comes to foreground) HEY! Hold on while I do this line!
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(sound of phone dropped from great height hitting a stone floor) (voice in
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foreground) Sniff, sniiiiiiiff, snif! ssssssssssssssnnif! snert! snort!
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SNEEEERRRRRFFT! SNNNNNNnnnnnNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOORRRTTTT! SNIFF! SNIFF! OH
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DUDE! IT WAS CUT WITH DRANO!!! That BITCH! You stupid, STUPID muthafawka.
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Oh man! Here comes the DRAIN! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
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ssssSSSSSNNNNNNNNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHWCK!
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HAWWWWWWWWWK-*SPLAT*! OHDUDETHATWASHELLAGROSS!!!!!! Dude, you're gonna
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need a putty-knife to get that one off the wall, Hahahahahaha. But dude! It
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serves your right! Your ex-bitch tried to poison us! Maaaaaan, shit. OH! That
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dude's still on the phone. [CLATTER!] Hello? D.J. dude! You there?"
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"Yes I am."
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"Oh killer! I wanna make a song re . . . Oh shit! Just a second, man . . .
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(voice to background) DUDE! You held that mirror up where the D.J. dude
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could see it on the phone. Keep it down! That dude will see it and call the
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drug police. That would suck, man. (voice to foreground) You know, some
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people say coke makes you paranoid. I disagree as will the hundreds of
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people who listen to my phone calls through taps . . ."
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"Pardon?"
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"Nothin' man. Yeah, check it out; I wanna make a song request."
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"Yeeeeesss?"
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"Uhhhhhh . . . Hold on a second . . . [clatter!] Duuuuuuuude! Where'd
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you get the 'cid? Kil-ler! Two? FOR EACH OF US? Oh RIGHT on! Let's doo it!
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See ya in Fryland! Oh, the D.J. dude . . . HELLO? HELL . . ."
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"YES!"
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"Oh right on. Okay, this is the scene man. I wanna make . . . oh, just . . .
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just a second man (voice to background) Where did you say you got this fry from?
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Your ex, Uh-oh. Dude, this isn't good. This isn't good as all. Oh man. Shit.
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That fuckin' bitch. She wasn't satisfied just to fuck you, nooOOOOooo, she
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has to take one of your friends down, too. Oh that bitch. Dude, if we live
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through this, I'm gonna kill your ex, I swear! That bitch is about to become
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a statistic. Maaaaan, I'm gonna run over her with a semi. Yup, SPLAT! Dude,
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she might make the cover of Calivornia Highway Patrolman magazine! She'll be
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right up there with some guy whose volkswagon got run over by a 747. OHHHHH!
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The dude . . . (voice in foreground). Is this KZAP's Psychedelic Sunday?"
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"Uh-huh"
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"Dude, I wanna make a s . . . WHOA! JUSTASECOND! (voice yelling in
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background) Dude! DUDE! Kill that big ol' fuckin' spider over there! QUICK!
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. . . WHaddayamean 'Which one?'?! The big black bastard the size of a
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cocker spaniel that's chasing those fuzzy pink things. Yeah, THAT ONE! There
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ya go! No dude, I don't have a shotgun . . . hit it with the fuckin' broom!
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[SHWAATHUMBP!] Aww you missed! Dude . . . Dude! It's hella pissed, dude!
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Aw shit! CALL 9-1-1! CALL 9-1-1! Tell 'em we got a big ol' fucking spider
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hangin' on our wall and it's pissed off because we . . . no, because YOU
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tried to hit it with a broom. Oh! And don't say anything about drugs. Them
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people are cops and they'll call the drug police and that'll suck. And dude!
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Ask them if they know the number of 'information' because I forgot it. Fuck
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it! I'll call them. [CLATTER!] HELLO?!! HELLO?!! 9-1-1?!!"
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"This is KZAP's Psychedelic Sund . . ."
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"Ow wow man! Dude, I didn't know 9-1-1 connected to you dudes! Right on!
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Now I won't have to keep lookin' your number up. That's cool, dude, because
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I wanna make a song request."
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"And that is?"
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"Huh?"
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"WHAT SONG DO YOU WANT TO HEAR?"
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(4 seconds of silence)
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"DUDE! Now I'm blind in the other ear, too! I told you not to yellinto
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the phone. And you scared this big ol' fuckin' spide . . . Oh, I'm sorry
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dude! I forgot you can't say 'fucking' on the radio. Awww wow. Oh Jesus,
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this is some prime fry. Ahhhhh. I'm hella wasted. (voice goes to background)
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Dude, are you fryin'? Yeah, this is some good shit. I might not kill your
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ex after all. Oh! Where'd that spider go? The wombat ate him . . . Thazz
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cool. What do wombats eat? Womflyinginsects. Oooohhhhhh . . . I always
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wondered about that. Let's turn on the radio and listen to some toons. I
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think Psychedelic Sunday is on. Oh! The dude on the phone. You turn on
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the radio and I'll talk to the dude . . . (clatter)(voice comes to
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foreground) HELLO?!?! HELLOHELLOHELLOHELLOHELLOHELLOHELLOHELLOHELLOHELLOHELLO
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HLOLOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIE
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EIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIE (feedback at 500 watts)
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"OH SHIT DUDE! WHERE'D YOUR EX GET THIS FRY?! OHMYFUCKINGGAWD!"
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(feedback fades)
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"TURN DOWN YOUR RADIO!" (omnipresent and thunderingly loud)
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"Dude! God's telling us to turn down the radio! Maybe he doesn't like
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60's music . . . HEY! HEY GOD! YOU WANNA HEAR SOME SABBATH?!! I GOT SOME
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STRYPER! I GOT 'HOUSES OF THE HOLY'! MAYBE A LITTLE PRIEST? Awwwwww! This is
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some hella fry!! Next time I see your ex, I won't kid her about having
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'a rainbow of kids'. Hey, you know what? God sounds a lot like the D.J.
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on Psychedelic Sunday. Whatta trip. OH! I bet that dude's still on the
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phone . . . (voice from foreground) HELLO? KZAP DUDE? HEY . . ."
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"(exhausted) Yeah?"
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"Dude! God sounds like you! I'm not bullshittin'! My friend and I dropped
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some fry we got from my friend's ex-wife. She's usually a real bitch and
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we thought she might give us screwed fry bug it was too late by then because
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we had already dripped it. And God told us to turn our radio down! AND HE
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SOUNDED JUST LIKE YOU!"
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"That was ME, you idiot!"
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(stunned silence)
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"(voice in background) Dude! GOD WORKS AT K-ZAP! Oh right on! Cool deal!
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Let's ask him for a CD player! Yeah! YEAH! Let's get a CD player!! (excited
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clatter)(voice comes to foreground) God?! GOD! HEY! HEY! Check it out: Dude!
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We want a CD player. And some kill speakers. Oh, and a tuner, too. Mine's
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blown. Oh, and hey! Dude, how about a graphic equalizer? OH! HEY! (secretively)
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Can we get some buds? Like, maybe a few pounds? Indice? Kill green?
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And how about a kilo of good meth crank. Yeah, YEAH. That'd be good. AND
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a 10,000 hit bial of lsd-25? Sure! And a few kilos of opium. Oh, and some
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hash! Just a few poinds of the black tar kind. Oh coke! We NEED coke.
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Uhh . . . 25 tons oughta be enough. Dude. God. Do you think you could
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get that for us?"
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"THIS IS OFFICER HAGGERDY OF THE D.E.A., WE'RE TRACING YOUR LINE . . ."
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"(dissapointed voice in the background) Dude! God's a NARC!"
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"(noise in background of radio station) Just do whatever you need to
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to keep him on the line . . ."
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"HEY GOD!"
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"K-ZAP's Psychedelic Sunday . . ."
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"Uh, yeah, God? Yeah . . . OH! I gotta song request . . . AWWWW! (voice
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to background) It wasn't God, man. It was the D.J. Oh man, we're not
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gonna get the CD. HEY! Maybe the K-ZAP dude will give us one! (voice to
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foregrount) Hey! K-ZAP DUDE! I gotta quest . . ."
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"No."
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"OH WOW MAN! I didn't know you had E.S.P. . . . Oh hey, do you take song
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requests?"
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"Yeeeeeeessss . . ."
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"Cool. I gotta song request . . ."
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"What can I ge tyou? Some Floyd? A little Dead? Some Jimmi, perhaps?"
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"Naaw, man. I wanna hear, 'Funky Cold Medina' by Ton-Loc."
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"D.E.A. voices in background) Almost got him!"
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. . . . . . . S-L-A-M!!!
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[CLINK!]
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"Awwww, dude! The K-Zap dude hung up on me! Whadda asshole! Shit, Hey!
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Let's call up 93 Rock and ask for Madonna songs! Sometimes they play 'em
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Just so we'll leave 'em alone. YEAH! And after that, we'll call up the
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public radio station and ask to hear Ozzy and Metallica! Right on! Shit,
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it's gonna be hard to top that next Sunday. I home them D.E.A. dudes didn't
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get a trace. That'd be a bitch.
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"Hey! We'll call the C&W station and ask for some skinhead music. They
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get so pissed that hey call out this radio preacher to swear at us over
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the airwaves. Ha ha haha haahahahahahahahahaaa!"
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