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DMX Marks the Spot… Scott Storch’s

As previously reported by the good folks at the best hip-hop magazine site on the planet, our favorite rock lobster was pinched by the polices yesterday.

Dope fiends hide in strangest and most obscure of places. In my travels I’ve found them in curled up in car trunks, stuffed into door frames and swirling down toilet drains. What do all of these methods have in common? They actually make the vagrants in question difficult to find.

[Blogger’s Note: I’d only come across these examples accidentally, obviously. This includes my uncle who had literally folded himself into the top of my mama’s closet and made the universal “ssssh” sign when I was looking for Patrick Ewing cap. No fitted.]

DMX made no such efforts to contort his tattooed, crack-emaciated frame after signing out of a Florida rehab facility. Instead, he umm… found his way into the home of fellow downtrodden former hip-hop icon, Scott Storch.

Scott Storch: *fiddling with keys* *whistling “Lean Back” melody* Damn. Nigga like me tired than a motherfucker.

Brooke Hogan: Well, I hope you’re not too tired for a little fun. *reaches into her purse*

SS: Nah, baby. I can’t fuck with another Slim Jim. *opening front door* Can’t believe your pops still got you eatin those.

BH: I can’t believe you still haven’t produced my big single, ass. These Slim Jims are why I’m 6-feet and thick and delicious how you like it. *kisses Storch*

SS: Yeah… I got that Slim Jim for you, baby. Lemme just drop this deuce right quick. I’ll be right out. *enters bathroom* *turns on light*

DMX: WHAT’S GOOD, BABY?! *slight growl*

SS: X, what the fuck? You scared the SHIT out of me!

BH: *from living room* Who are you talking to, baby?

DMX: Oh, shit! You got company? Bitches? That’s what’s good, my nigga!

SS: *to Brooke* I’m on the phone, baby! *to DMX* Fuck, man. How the fuck did you– *notices open bathroom window* Damn, X. I didn’t expect to come home and find you on my toilet.

DMX: Calm down, nigga. I’m almost done. *growls and grunts*

BH: *kicks in bathroom door* I knew you were… Oh, shit! DMX? What the fuck?

DMX: White bitches! That’s what’s REEEALLY good! *final grunt* *sploosh*

SS: *to Brooke* Baby, I don’t know what happened. He must have snuck in through the window. *turns to DMX* What the fuck are you doing?

DMX: *reaching into toilet* *fishes out turd* There we go, baby! Yo, Storch. Pardon the smell, baby. You know how it is. I ain’t shit in like 5 weeks, nah mean? *washes shit off stuffed condom*

SS: X, what the FUCK?! You know I been clean for 3 months. I can’t have that shit in here.

BH: I’m going into the living room. Scott, let me know when the coast is clear. *turns and walks out*

DMX: *watching Brooke walk* Damn, Ma. You lookin thick as hell. What, you been fuckin with them Slim Jims?

BH: Ugh.

DMX: What type of games is bein’ played? How’s it goin down?

SS: You know that’s Brooke Hogan, right?

DMX: Who?

SS: Brooke Hogan. Hulk Hogan’s daughter?

DMX: Who the fuck is Hulk Hogan? I know that nigga mama ain’t name him no “Hulk.” Get the fuck outta here.

SS: Move, X. I’m fucking prairie doggin right now.

DMX: What?

SS: The turtle head is pokin out. Move!

DMX: My dog. I’m just sayin.

SS: *dropping deuce* So… What the fuck, X? Aren’t you supposed to be in jail or rehab or some shit?

DMX: Why you even ackin like this? You told me I could swing by whenever I was in the area. Boom. The rehab was wack, son. I had to slide the fuck up outta there, nah mean? So… I thought I’d come holler at my mans and them–

SS: I told you to CALL. Then you can come by, not bust a cold B&E on my shit.

DMX: I know. I know. But it ain’t like I came through empty-handed and shit, baby! I got that Bolivia. It ain’t been stepped on.

SS: No, it’s just been shitted on. How you got me walking into a scene outta fuckin Killa Season? That’s some triflin– *watching DMX unwrap dope* Oh. Damn… That shit looks PROPER!

DMX: Nothin but the best, baby!

BH: *from living room* Baby, come here a second.

SS: I’ll be right back.

DMX: No doubt, baby. *still washing and bagging*

BH: I was just reading that Ron Mexico on XXL… Did you know they got a $5,000 reward for DMX right now?

SS: Word?

BH: Yeah. Maybe you can get another Triton or something. I don’t know. Whatever you need to get back in the game.

SS: Hmmm… Damn. *long pause* You know he got some Bolivian, though. I was thinking we could do some of that first and–

BH: Yes. I accept.

I’m assuming that’s when Storch, Brooke and I Think My Name is Earl doped off. Then–after leaving X in a drug coma–Storch called the T.I. hotline and directed the authorities to the Dark Man in his bathroom.

That’s my story and I’m stickin to it.

Questions? Comments? Requests? What’s the capital of Bolivia, niggas? [Trick question]

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