DISCLAIMER: Oz belongs to Joss Whedon. Jay and Silent Bob belong to View Askew Productions.
“This is some good shit, you know what I’m saying, lunchbox? The freaky little fucker over there has some fucking *good* shit,” Jay said in his jerky voice, smoke drifting from his fingers. Oz smiled slightly and lay back on the ratty cushions in the back of his van, drifts of pot smoke coiling around the ceiling. The large brown haired man who’d come with the blond smiled himself, calmly rolling another joint. “Where’d you get it from anyway?”
“My aunt,” Oz answered.
“Seriously? What is she, a hippy?”
“Fucking hippies, I gotta tell you about this chick…”