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Ari Silverstein · (01-22-2020)

"Yooooooooo, what's this bitch-ass bitch Vinnie think I am, some sort of Jeffree Star wannabe? My YouTube channel is for my mad freestyles and that's IT, homie, that is IT!"

Ari is rushing down a hallway with his mail cart, still wearing the referee shirt he was given after Vinnie Lane fired some other schmuck last week. It obviously doesn't fit him, as Ari is dramatically underweight for a man of his height.

"Don't sweat it playa, this rap career is absolutely fittina pop OFF. My Soundcloud got like six views last month, and I even tweeted Wiz Khaleefa a shout out. My career is off the muh-fuggin CHAIN right now... just gotta keep hustlin', slangin' these packages in the meantime, na-meen? NA-MEEEN?"

Ari's cart runs over the foot of Fuzz, who was just exiting the X-Treme Hallway Men's Room. Fuzz bends over, groaning as his toes might be broken.

"Oh snap! Fuzz! You like my idol on this roster, son! You proved that us wiggers, or wegroes as I prefer to be called, can make it big! But... man, I didn't hear any water... did you even wash your hands, my wigga?"

Fuzz begins to blush and then turns away, but Ari is quick to pull a larg package out of his cart.

"Dog! I can help you! Look..."

Ari opens the huge box and pulls out a nice bathroom sink. He then clobbers Fuzz with it.

"My bag, G. Had to. You know how it be out here in these streets."

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