"Nope: That's salvia!" Geoff shouted back, "And I gotta tell ya -- it is doing things for me. My creative juices are flowing like Jamba; I'm downright wet with creativity over here."
"Ironic word up, bro! So what's with the suit?" Chaz spat contemptuously at the flustered man in the khakis, whose cut bespoke equal parts poverty and desperation (they were pleated).
"He's a scriptwriter," Geoff answered, dizzily attempting to track Chaz's ceaselessly circling elliptical bicycle.
"Ew," Chaz replied simply.
"I know, right?!" Geoff laughed, then raised his hands in placation. "But I've got an idea, 20 minutes and a massive ball-trip going; I figure we can just write this thing and have it out right now."
"Sir?" the writer yelped, as Chaz quickly executed a furious series of pumps that sent him charging erratically, elliptically toward the man. "I can't write a script in 20 minutes!"
Yes, this is actually an LA thing. It's for people who are worried that they don't look like a big enough a*****e on their Segway.
"Of course not!" Geoff hollered, and attempted to put all of his fingers into his mouth. He spoke with remarkable clarity around the stuffed digits. "You'll only have 10, after we brainstorm."