The following is a phone conversation between two unknown subjects, their voices altered in advance for anonymity. The two suspects have yet to be confirmed, but the topic of the discussion appears to revolve around Nigel "Neil" Morterero.
Date Recorded: Friday, September 7th, 2012 | 5:01 A.M.
Subject-1: 'Ello?
Subject-2: He's not doin' it.
S-1: What?
S-2: He ain't doin', man. None of 'em are.
S-1: Wait. We talkin' about…?
S-2: Yes, Neil! Who else!?
S-1: Aye. Watch your fuckin' tone, man. You're the one callin' me in the middle of the fuckin' night, so keep it the fuck down., yeah?
S-2: You know, I've been askin' myself why the little shit wasn't pullin' his own weight, and nobody was doin' shit about it, but then I felt like a dumbass because of course he didn't have to! Just as long as he keeps playin' boy-toy t' keep his master's cock pleased.
S-1: Don't pretend like you haven't sampled that ass either, bro. You almost got it deep.
S-2: I was doin' a fuckin' job. Thought he had a price tag on 'im until you showed up.
S-1: Nah. You're just like me. Bogarting his sweet ass from us so others thought he was shit. Didn't work on us, though.
S-2: You don't need to brag. I don't want 'im, so you have 'im.
S-1: Or you want 'im, but he don't want you.
S-2: Fuck off! This ain't what we're talkin' about. He's been at that place for a while, but he hasn't been comin' back with any green yet.
S-1: It's only been like… three weeks.
S-2: And that ain't weird or something? It should have been easy to get those rich fucks hopped up on our shit.
S-1: Yeah, I was losin' it a bit with 'im, too, but…
S-2: …but?
S-1: He came to me about it and he's doin' well with the band. He's more comfortable with it, so I let 'im.
S-2: Are you fuckin' serious! That fuckin' kindergarten Christmas program they do! I thought that was just a hobby! We ain't gonna get shit from shit, man!
S-1: I think they're good, no joke. And so does over a hundred thousand others in the world. They're postin' it up on the web, I think.
S-2: So, we just sit here on our asses an' wait 'til they're chattin' it up with fuckin' Prince an' David Bowie!? The brothers are gonna be up our asses 'bout choosin' favorites!
S-1: Stop crying about it, man. We'll just get one of th' younger ones to take over.
S-2: Now, who's bogarting? His pussy is just that good, yeah? Or maybe it's yours.
S-1: Watch it, fucker.
S-2: How big is he, bro? Does he stretch you real nice an' good?
S-1: Shut the fuck up, man!
S-2: How rough does he pound your shit? All that pent-up anger and pain has to go somewhere, right? That's the only way he can do it. I should know. I tried to get to 'im a week ago an' I got my shit kicked all the way in.
S-1: He hasn't done shit yet, but we're workin' on it. Everybody loves Neil. Even you. But what do you have?
S-2: What-
S-1: Poppa got merked on the sidewalk an' Momma too busy with a bunch of cocks stuffed in every hole. And Neil? You lost 'im when he got too big, but not only that, he came to me. I never took 'im from you. He walked away.
S-2: Where the fuck are you goin' with this, fuckface!?
S-1: It means you're damn near worthless. There're a hundred of us out there with the same, goddamn sob story as you. You're replaceable. Especially ever since that ordeal with fuckin' Bosson an' those bitches you an' the team had fun with. You're becoming a liability, man.
S-2: [SILENCE]
S-1: You still there?
S-2: I'll be doin' what I'm supposed to be doin', but when he finally fucks you over instead of inside you, I'll only be there to take that comfy, cum-stained throne of yours. You've slackin', H, and it's about time someone put you down like your dear ol' father.
S-1: You forget that I put the shit for brains in the dirt myself. But I dare you. I fuckin' dare you try me, motherfucker.