Roll X Records. Truck takes another toot. He's going to blow out the inside of his nasal cavity. And this show would totally go down the Stevie Nicks Makes Her Roadie Blow Coke Up Her Ass-type road, so, for all of our sakes, I hope he lays off the coke right quick. "I'm telling you, you better slow down," Shawn laughs. "I told you, I'm going for Scarface," Truck tells him. Yeah, because that was a happy ending, right there. At this moment, the infamous Rolando swaggers inside. Truck explains to his cousin that that he's doing this deal with this guy who has these CDs, and this guy wants to meet Rolando and blah blah blah. Rolando furrows his brow and wonders how, exactly, he got involved in any of this. Truck explains the entire background-check folderol. "Dude saw a badge and was fixing to run out on the deal," Truck giggles. Rolando is so not amused. "So, he wants to meet me," he says, shaking his bald head. "You're dealing with the man, fool." "What?" Truck squeaks. "Look, if a man doing a dope deal, he don't want meet somebody he don't already know! Unless he a Fed, trying to lock up some extra bodies!" Rolando is six hundred times smarter than Truck. Speaking of Truck, he and Shawn take this moment to look utterly stricken. "How much you trading for them CDs?" Rolando asks. "Ten keys," Truck murmurs. "And you sold him a sample already?" Rolando asks. Truck mutters something in the affirmative. "He got you. If he's undercover, he's busting your dumb asses for conspiracy," Rolando says. Truck and Shawn sit, frozen and horrified. "You know you're talking about thirty-six years to life," he says. "Federal time. No parole." Shawn works his mouth for twenty minutes, and finally says that he doesn't think Bobby can be a Fed. "Not the way he was snorting powder the other day." Rolando cocks an interested brow. "What?" he asks. "This cat is a Hoover, man! He was just getting keyed yesterday. Tore up!" Truck explains. Rolando thinks and finally says that if Bobby wants to meet him, he'll do it. But they've only got one way out of this. "Make sure he's not alive to testify," Rolando instructs.
Cut to Sharonda's house. Truck is strung out and ultra-paranoid. He creeps around the house, hearing the cops in everything: the children's games, the radio, the neighbors talking. The way this has been filmed makes this scene almost look like a dream, but I think it's just the Truck's Totally High-O-Cam. Finally, Truck can't take it anymore. He grabs his stash and starts flushing it down the toilet. He's not going a very meticulous job, however -- you have to be careful destroying your stash, people -- and he's plugging the toilet. Eventually, Sharonda swings by and wonders what the hell he's doing. Water laps at Truck's feet as he yells at her to take the kids and her mother and go to a movie. "Oh my God. You think the police are coming?" she asks. The toilet continues to overflow. Dude, take the lid off and fiddle with the thingie inside! How Truck got this far in the drug-dealing world, I'll never know. "It ain't going down," Sharonda deadpans." "I can see that, Sharonda!" Truck yelps. "It's getting lumpy," she tells him, but he just yells at her to go get him a plunger. She wanders off to find one, the children in tow. Truck keeps pouring cocaine into the water. Eventually, an older woman -- who must be Sharonda's mother -- decides to investigate what the fuss is all about. "Dammit, boy, what are you doing to my pipes?" she asks. Truck assures her that everything is going to be fine. "Fine? And you dumping all that money down my toilet? You musta lost your mind," she snaps. Truck looks up at her, helplessly. "Gimme that. Give it here! " she asks, and snatches the knapsack holding the cocaine. "I'll put this away, you damn fool," she snaps.