Bush Doctor.

I've been considering trying to become a major hashish smuggler as a way to earn a living.
Why not? In my opinion the benefits outweigh the risks. Plus, it's illegal, so...

I was approached today by a teenage friend and was surprised to hear him ask me if I could get him some hash. I told him to step outside and I'd be there in a minute.

"It's not for me Ross, it's for a friend of mine." He said, his eyes giving away the fact that he was lying.
"Sure Rusty; Whatever." I said with a tone of voice that fully communicated disbelief.
"He can get it from a guy he knows, but he thinks he's getting ripped off so I said I'd ask you. You being the man who can." He continued.
"The man who can?" I interrupted, "Where do you get that from?"
"It's your nickname in the young team" He said.
"Young team?"
"Yeah man, the bowlers between the ages of 15 and 30, when we need to find out what's going on in the club or need something we ask "the man who can" and that's you mate." He told me, smiling.
"Sure mate let me know what he pays and for how much and I'll try to beat the price and weight." I said.
"Great man, really great." He said grinning like the cat who got the cream. "Great man, Great. I'll let you know ASAP. Brilliant. Great."
"You can kiss my arse later man, stop groveling. It's a favor. Just remember the code." I said.
"The code?" He asked with a puzzled look on his face.
"The code of the friend. I do you a favor because you are my friend. When I ask you, as a friend, to do me a favor you must do it. Not because you owe me a favor but because I am your friend and I am asking you to do me a favor. If you break the code of the friend the wronged friend has rights to payback." I said as I put on a menacing tone and fixed him with the Thousand-yard stare.
He laughed and said "Sure man. Whatever."
I half smiled and narrowed my eyes to look menacing; "Fuck with me and I'll break into your house while you sleep, tie you to your bed and beat the shit out of you with a baseball bat."
His eyes flashed fear and I knew I'd got to him.
He raised his hands and said, "No problem Ross, no offense meant. I thought you were joking."
"I was. Moron." I said and walked back into the clubhouse.