Can I pay you in Klonopin?

A lot's happened since the last post. Mondo has left the lazyk and works in an alternate universe where drunks are given small scooters and allowed to drive without insurance, a driver's license or registration. Needless to say, Mondo sees an opportunity and starts selling small scooters to people at DUI checkpoints. But that's another story. Here's the one that kicks things off...
Mondo has become a real dick. Whether it's because of the drunk who stopped at the shop and wanted to see a Vespa oil filter to compare it to the one he bought online and make sure he bought the right one, or the drunk who wants to fix his own scooter behind the store and ask the mechanics how to jet the carburetor for the big bore kit he bought online, where the jets are, how to get them out, and whether we have any used ones he can have for free, Mondo has developed the ability and desire to tell people to get the fuck out of the store. So much for customer service.
So this dirtbag buys a scooter at a pawn shop, tries to fix it himself, takes it to the idiots who try to fix things just up the road from the lazierk, and then brings it to the lazierk when it blows up. He wants to know about the warranty, because it came from the lazierk originally, and even though he bought it at a pawn shop, put Walmart 10-30 in the 2 stroke oil tank and hit several parked objects in the short time he owned it, the factory and the dealer should stand behind it.
Now this fine specimen of American manhood is in his early thirties, and even though he paid less than $400 for his current mode of transportation, lives with his girlfriend and her mother while said girlfriend finishes high school, and doesn't have to pay for registration, insurance or a driver's license, finding funds to keep his scooter running as well as a Camry is proving difficult.
"I don't know what fucking moron worked on it last, but when he, or you,  unplugged and disconnected every hose he, or you,  could find, and filled the gas tank with Seafoam, he, or you,  caused it to run lean, and the top end melted," said Mondo, "It's going to be about $450 to fix it"
"I only paid $400 for it, so I don't want to put any money into it," said the deadbeat.
"Too bad you didn't get it for free. We would have fixed it for free. What it costs to fix any motor vehicle is directly proportional to what you paid for it."
"I don't have any money right now. Can I pay you in Klonopin?"
"What is Klonopin?" Mondo asked the mechanic who fixes everything then does wheelies on it in the parking lot.
"You don't want it."
While the CSB would have jumped, or at least stumbled forward and drooled at the offer, Mondo looked it up on google and realized he did not,in fact, want to accept Klonopin as a form of payment. You can't send the electric company or the guys who sell you parts Klonopin in exchange for services. The vast majority of venders in the powersports industry do not recognize Klonopin as a currency. It's like bitcoin for the insane, and there's no cool decal to put up under the one on your door for visa and mastercard. 
So Klonopin Guy, who is in his early thirties, a time when most people have the ability to make car payments and know better than to look up when it's raining with their mouths open and drown, called his grandma and talked her into purchasing him a new scooter. Even though she's on social security, Grandma put half the purchase on her credit card and talked her brother into lending her the other half. Grandma tells Mondo that she hopes this scooter will help Klonopin Guy get his life together.
This story is just beginning. Anybody want to lay odds that this is exactly what happened?