"Look," you say.  "You gonna challenge it or not?"

    "How much would you get for it?"

    "Um... 92 points."

    "Damn right I challenge," says Chico.

    The giant dictionary is fetched and you both hunch over it as you search.

    Axel...  Badminton...  Bronchitis... Bun... Butter...

    There it is!

    Buttpoop!

butt'poop (n.) Obsolete middle english classification of fecal matter, between buttdoo-doo and buttshitte. [also buttpoope]

    Wow!  You win!

    Needless to say, Chico and his friends are very impressed.

    After the party, you drop the van off in the shop.

    Chico gives you a ride home in his Camaro.

    You exchange goodnights, and then Chico rubs the top of your head playfully and says, "you know, Brad Powell... you're all right."

    You wish him well, then head down to the basement.

    You pull out of few old copies of Hot & Fat that are kickin' around the basement and read a few of the articles before drifting off into a peaceful sleep.