[So Jojo has a fat ass, we're admitting that? I want it in writing. Badou eyes the other man shifting his ass around futility in an idle manner as he munches, fully expecting a goddamn yes sir no sir I'll get you a flask for the next one sir! What he gets is shitty stake out etiquette. His mouth drops open with horror, his ass twinges in time, and his head whips over to the window to check the status of their target. When it seemed they were oblivious, Badou flicks the other on the forehead none too gently and hisses softly] Were you dropped on your goddamn empty head as a wee babe of six feet tall? You don't flap your orangutang gums durin' stake outs! They're meant to be fuckin' quiet to sneak the cunt around!

[He gives Jojo one more look of consideration, like what the fuck kind of fresh meat cock hounding infant dumbass did Kyouya hire, before nodding] Knew you wouldn't remember the hand signs. His sock puppets were too creepy to absorb the lesson, even if they were seventy bucks and one hundred percent cotton. [He considers the question, thinks on giving some bullshit answer, then decides teamwork and honestly blah blah cocks blah]

I've been doin' this kinda shit since I was 'bout twelve or so. I can tell you haven't, plain as that crusty asscrack in there.