Charlie and I rip off Hobo

Charlie and I were staring at each other laughing hysterically. We were high off of salvia and weed, and weren't capable of uttering even a single word. Goofy faces and lots of "pfs, pfffss" were all we could muster. We didn't have the cash to buy the concentrated salvia, a potent psychedelic, until the night before. Poor hobo. He was left waiting til dawn for a hooker that never showed.
It was his last $40, saved just for a hooker, making it a grand total of $140 given to two punk highschool kids in exchange for bringing him cocaine and ass. We were surprised he trusted us with that last $40. We were surprised he believed the 8-ball of flour we gave him was a buck's worth of cocaine. I thought the charade was up when he asked to try a line. Charlie and I were worried he'd catch on to the scam, but fuck it, he was mad fucked-up as it was. Maybe we could pull it off.
We gave him some flour. A loud wet snort later the hobo wasn't fully duped. "Give me some to put on my gums!" he demanded. We gave him more flour, and this time he rubbed it into his gums and lips with zeal. "This is the good shit!" he shouted, his mouth a white circle, like he was facefucked by powdered donut dick. Hobo was just getting started. "I want pussy."

I didn't plan on ripping hobo off that night. I was at home probably reading a book or contemplating the meaning of life or something when I heard a knock on my window. I moved the blinds and Charlie's big round face greeted me. He looked like the Pringle's guy, only shaved and skeevy. I opened the window and heard Charlie's ambition.
"Dude! This hobo by the gas station wanted me to get him drugs. I saw him put a hundred dollar bill into his fanny pack! He wants some coke!" Charlie was glowing. "Do you have any white stuff?"
"No'" I said regretfully, "I do not... But!"
Charlie's eyes lit up. "But what?!"
"I can get us some flour!" God, I felt so proud.
"Good! Get an 8-balls worth."
I was an innocent kid, I had no clue what an 8-ball looked like.
"How much is that?" I asked.
"I don't know, man, just put some in a ziplock, he seemed pretty fucked up."
Moments later we were off to find the hobo.