Heads up, G's, 'cuz tha H-Dog is in tha house, keepin' it real at Midstate Office Supply, tha largest wholesale dealer of office supplies and business machines in tha entire muthafuc*in' Tri-State Area.

      Ain't no other office-supply wholesaler tha H-Dog would work for, and thas no muthafuc*in' lie. Say some sucka from Office Depot step up to me and tell me, if you want a job in our Accountz Reeceevable Department wit' good pay, holiday bonuses and comprehensive health coverage and dental plan and shi*, it be yours for the taking. I'd say, flag yo' red-polo-shirt-wearin' as* outta my face before I Charles Bronson upside yo' bitch head, muthafuc*a. Office Depot can go fuc* theyselves, 'cuz Midstate is tha BOMB.

      You see, at Midstate Office Supply, I gots seniority and respect. People be lookin' to tha H-Dog when they wants shi* done right. Tha office comptrolla, Gerald Luckenbill, couldn't balance his muthafuc*in' books without me. My Accountz Reeceevable Posse, Gary and Gladys, they call me Tha Troubleshoota, 'cuz ain't nobody figure shi* out faster.

      I gots skillz, muthafuc*as. Shi* be COLLATED. Copier out of toner? I be all over that shi*, 'cuz only I can replace tha Hewlett-Packard toner cartridge without gettin' all that inky powder shi* all over tha insides.

      I so phat, sometimes I gets done with my whole day's worth of tasks by 2 or 3 o'clock. But after I do, do I go back to my crib and chill? Hell no. I just open up tha afternoon mail what I usually be going through tha next mornin', and I start enterin' tha account payments on my accounts ledga. Or I assists tha Posse in preparin' the monthly statements. You won't never catch tha H-Dog sleepin' on tha job, bruthas and sistas.

      But, yo, check this shi* out. Last Friday, Bob Cowan in Human Resources, he say I gots to kick back and chill for a coupla weeks, 'cuz I gots a buncha paid vacation days accruing and shi*. Now, at first I tells him hell no, 'cuz I gots bidness to take care of at tha office. Besides, I got it good at Midstate Office Supply. I gots my dope Lotus software, my stoopid-fresh dry-erase markers, my fly three-ring binders wit' tha pockets inside, and my own muthafuc*in' men's-room key. Plus, all them fly Marketing Department hos wanna be freakin' my jock all tha time.

      But Cowan, he say all employees gotta use they paid vacation time by the end of the year, or they lose it. So I just laughs at tha fool. "You payin' me to chill?" I says. "Man, that's some straight-up wack shi*, sucka."

      I be laughin', but, shi*, I almost had to use my Letter Opener Of Death when I learn who be takin' my place for a week: that old-as* muthafuc*a Myron Schabe, tha Accountz Payable supervisor. Man, he belong in tha old people's home, wearin' diapers and shi*, but instead he be fuc*in' wit' my flow and wantin' a piece of tha Accountz Reeceevable action. But then I gots to thinkin': If Myron fuc* shi* up, who they gonna call? Me. Thas right. Any way you cuts it, I gots them fuc*as by tha BALLS.

      So, come Monday, instead of goin' to work, I jus' be chillin' at my crib, livin' large and shi*. I gots this dope one-bedroom apartment near tha interstate, and, man, it be tha shi*. It's all done up in muthafuc*in' drywall. Ma carpet, it go from wall to wall.

      But that ain't nothin' compared to the crazy phat shi* I gots goin' on in my kitchenette. Now, I don't need no muthafuc*in' microwave, 'cause I be from the old school. Instead, I gots me the dopest muthafuc*in' hamburga sammich cooka you ever seen. You puts some hamburga in the fuc*in' thing, press this black metal shi* on top, plug the shi* in and let it cook, and in three minutes you gots this mad stoopid cooked hamburga patty. Mix up some ramen noodles and some cherry Kool-Aid, and you gots yo'self a MEAL, homeyz.

      So I be sittin' on my couch, eatin' this fly hamburga sammich off a TV tray and watchin' The Crier Report, checkin' out Catherine from all sides. Man, that ho got BACK. Bitch got tha C-cup action goin' under them rayon blouses of hers. I just about to jump into tha Nite Rida and drive down to tha TV station and sex up that fine ho when tha muthafuc*in' phone rings.

      Shi*, man. It be muthafuc*in' Gerald Luckenbill, tellin' me that the mainframe computer crashed, and tha whole muthafuc*kin' network be down. He say Tech Support think it be days before the computer be up and runnin' again, which means tha Accountz Reeceevable Krew gots to enter data and prepare next month's account statements by hand.

      I don't needs to tell you what Luckenbill say next. "Unfortunately, with the computers down, Myron has more work than he can handle, supervising both Accounts Payable and Accounts Receivable," he tell me. "Herbert, would you possibly consider returning to work this week and helping us out until the system is up and running again? It would be a huge help."

      Man, I just be laughin' at tha fool. Didn't I say all them muthafuc*as gonna be slippin' while I gone? "Tough luck, sucka," I tell that sorry biyatch Luckenbill. "Tha H-Dog be kickin' his shi* back this week. All y'all pitiful muthafuc*as po'mouth tha H-Dog, but when tha shi* go down, y'all be runnin' scared and aksin' where tha H-Dog be at. Step tha fuc* off, FOOL. H-Dog over and OUT." And I slams down tha phone like a hard mutha fuc*.

      Tha phone be ringin' ever since, but I ain't answerin'. But I just be playin' wit' them suckas and psychin' them out: I be goin' in soon enuf.

      But I want all y'all to understand somethin'. I be tha NOTORIOUS BADASS MUTHAFUC*A of Midstate Office Supply, and don't never fo-get that. Fuc* Gerald Luckenbill, fuc* Bob Cowan, and especially fuc*k that sorry-as*, no-account-reeceeving Accountz Payable fool Myron Schabe. My Accountz Reeceevable Posse don't call me Tha Troubleshoota for nothin'. Suckas think I be chillin', but I gots to represent at all times, 'cuz ain't nobody else reeceeve accountz right but ME. So all y'all best recognize tha H-Dog and give him his full props, 'cuz tha H-Dog can't be faded, G's. Word.