You know what, you right. Thank you, Rhythm Nation.

Tiny:

And whack! It hits her in the eye. And her contact? It's, like, stuck on the end of my dick! [Tiny waits for a reaction, but his friends are unimpressed. Only Marcus, in the front passenger seat, turns his head, alertly, like a lion smelling prey] Tiny:
Yo, her contact was stuck on the end of my dick, yo! Marcus:
Was it hard or was it soft? Tiny:
What, my dick? Singh:
The contact lens! Marcus:
Do you remember if it was a colored lens? That she used to have two blue eyes, and now she had one blue and one brown? Tiny:
[Still elated from telling his story]
Hey, what the fuck does that matter? Marcus:
[Marcus turns to look at Tiny over the headrest of the front passenger seat, and stares him straight in the eye]
It matters because it happened to ME. That was my story. I told that story a year ago, man! Tiny:
Aw, no. Marcus:
The difference is that I knew those small but important details. That and, and my story was true. Tiny:
Oh. [Embarrassed, he looks out the window, away from Marcus] Tiny:
Whatever. Marcus:
Whatever? Tiny:
Whatever! Marcus:
What do you mean, Whatever? Tiny:
Why don't you pull your stinky-dinky out of my ass? I'm just trying to make conversation. Fuck! Come on, why don't you give a nigger a break? Marcus:
[Marcus turns around in the car seat again]
"Nigger"? What nigger? [touches his own chest] Marcus:
THIS nigger? Tiny:
Yo, I told you, my mother's mother's mother were black! Marcus:
Your mother's mother's mother, fuck - this ain't "Roots", mutha... Man, I wanna see a picture of this Nubian princess. [angry cross-talk] Marcus:
If you were any less black, you would be clear. Tiny:
That bitch was black as night! Singh:
Okay! Stop! Truce! Tiny:
But I see black. Because I know I am. Color's a state of mind, Marcus! Marcus:
You know what, you right. Thank you, Rhythm Nation. [And the laughter and insults continue...]