The sound of a banjo can be heard playing in the background.
We open up to the outside of a local Lowe's Store. Our view quickly interrupted by that of a bald truck tire rolling in. As the camera backs out its revealed to be the sputtering truck of the Dibbins Brousins. Inside the cab Duke slams the truck into park. He turns to Luke.
Duke: Be rights back!
Luke doesn't budge, snoring against the window. Duke exits the truck and heads inside.
At the door he is greeted by an employee in a blue smock.
Employee: Hi there, Can I help you today?
Duke looks her up and down, raises an eyebrow.
Duke : Sence When did a womans know abouts home fixin? Shoulndt you be preggers!?
Her jaw drops.
Employee: Excuse me sir?
Duke waves her off.
Duke: Nervermirnd, which aisle is da Herdcore Returd aisle?
She shakes her head confused.
Duke: See Tol-ya Useless, Imma find er myself.
The Dibbins marches past her and grabs a shopping cart. He heads to the first section he sees. Lighting
Duke: Dat Herdcore Rejex Skymonts would be hotter den a skeeter at a pig wrasslin match.
He tosses a couple florescent lights into his cart.
Duke: Hmmmm twat else.
Another employee approaches. Not realizing what he’s getting himself into.
Duke: Ey! Where da Hercore Returd aisle?
Employee: I’m sorry sir? What exactly is it you are looking for?
Duke: I gotsa tag term herdcore returd tag title match comin up on da Laughter Hourts. I needs to getsum weapons! Ya Cee. Da Dibbins camed and wond dat der belt! We are da champs! Now I gotta face Mr Herdcore, but jus cause hees callin hims elf Mr Herdcore don mean he’d be more herdcore den da Dibbins!
The employee just stands there flabbergasted. After all this isn’t walmart. They aren't used to this breed here.
After not getting an answer, Duke loses his cool. If there was ever such a thing.
Duke: Whataya Stupit or sumtin? Lookie ere, You cunt help me, Dat girlie in da front cunt help me. Where da fuck is Lowe?
Duke: LOWE! Da man who owned dis ere stores! He’ll know were to git da Herdcore supplies.
Employee: I’ll get the manager.
He runs while Duke browses, picks up a aluminum trash can, throwing it in the cart. Finally a young man in glasses and a tie walks up and introduces himself and asks how he can help.
Duke: Listen ere Lowe, I’m lookin for all da Herdcore supplies ya got!
Manager: I’m sorry sir, I’m afraid i'm not quite sure what you’re looking for.
Duke: Ya know, Dumb Tacks, Woodie Tables, 2X4s, Anyting I can beat someone senseless wiff.
Just as the others do, he stares at Duke, not knowing what to make of it. Duke throws his arms up in frustration.
Duke: Ferget it. Fuck you Lowe!
Duke marches off pissed to get ready for his match with Jarvis Valentine.