Glam(Noticing A Plate Of Brownies Out On The Table, Taking A Bite Out Of One, And Then Pulling A Face):

Glam(Noticing a plate of brownies out on the table, taking a bite out of one, and then pulling a face): Okay, I say this as your friend- you can't cook for shit.

Ches(Amused, and not bothering to look up from the other side of the kitchen where he's restringing his guitar for the third time in a month): Ouch.

Glam(Continuing with the brownie in an effort to be supportive, grimacing): You have many skills. Cooking just isn't one of them.

Ches: Big talk for a guy who's first time using a stove was at age 17.

Glam: And yet SOMEHOW-

Ches: What brought that on, anywa-

[He glances over, sees what Glam is eating, and freezes]

Glam(Not seeming to notice): This tastes like GRASS. I mean that, this really does taste- did you drop these outside or something? What did you do to make it taste like-

Ches: How many of those have you had?

Glam: One? Sorry, there was no physical way to stomach more than that.

Ches(Nodding, mostly to himself): Okay. Okay, that's- probably fine, we can work with that. First timer, so his tolerance'll be shit, but other than that... Uh, don't- don't eat any more of those.

Glam(Dryly): Won't be a problem.

Ches: Well at least one thing won't. Uh... how are you feeling?

Glam: ....like I just ate a brownie that was dropped in the dirt. Are you all right? You're acting weird.

Ches(Muttering to himself): I won't be the only one in a minute.

Glam: What?

Ches(Setting the guitar aside and steepling his fingers in front of himself): Okay! So, uh... in the interest of transparency- none of those brownies have been on the floor. I know they taste weird, but there's no grass in them either, just, uh...

Glam(Narrowing his eyes suspiciously): Just WHAT?

Ches(Sheepishly): Y'know... hash.

[Glam takes a minute to mentally sort through the new words he's learned since meeting Ches, suddenly remembers what that one means, and immediately starts gagging, eyes huge]

Ches(Scrambling over to him): WH- don't puke it back up, that shit was EXPENSIVE!

Glam(Spluttering in panicked horror): YOU PUT MARIJUANA-

Ches(Frantically shushing him, glancing at the window): Keep your fucking voice down!

Glam: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

Ches: Well, Jesus, dude, if you hadn't gone around just eating things left out on the table-

Glam: Illegal. That's ILLEGAL, you do realize that-

Ches: Hey, hey, hey, calm down man! Just- take it down a notch there. Deep breaths, breathe with me-

Glam: I can't believe this is how I die. I can't believe *this* is what I'm going to get sent to prison for.

Ches(Rolling his eyes with enough force for a lesser man's eyeballs to eject themselves from their sockets): You're not going to prison-

Glam(Hissing at him): ILLEGAL, REMEMBER?

Ches(Putting a hand over Glam's mouth): What did I say about keeping your fucking voice down?! You want the whole neighborhood to hear? Now calm the fuck down. You're not gonna die. Nobody dies from pot. You're also not going to prison, first of all because the cops don't need to know about any of this, and secondly, even if they DID, drugs aren't illegal when you put them into food. Everyone knows that.

Glam(Muffled by Ches's hand, squinting at him in disbelief): WHAT?

Ches: It's in the law, and probably most bibles.

Glam: ...congratulations. You remember how yesterday you told me that you couldn't find a Spanish translation for the word 'enchilada' and I told you that was the dumbest thing I'd ever heard? You have officially out-dumbed yourself. THIS IS THE NEW DUMBEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD.