http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGK84Poeynk

"Damn that Steve and his awesome!" swore Horatio. He picked up the phone, pressing the cool plastic of a 70's era handset to his ear and violently mashing out the phone number that he'd written in Bic pen on his arm. As the phone rang on the other end he paced back and forth, as far as the spiral cord would allow.
"Hello?"
"It's me"
"Horatio?"
"Who the **** else says it's me to you! IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE!"
"Calm down! There's no one else."
"Sorry, it's just. ****ing Steve."
"It was his awesome wasn't it?"
"Of course."
Horatio cradled the handset between his shoulder and head as he pulled out his lighter and a crumpled pack of Winston Lights.
"You know they gave him a medal?"
"What?" The voice on the other end sounded distant, distracted.
"A medal, they gave the sh*ta medal!"
"Wait, hold on. The cat, it's.. ****."
"What?"
"Oh, it's yarking on my couch. I hate this ****ing cat. I wish I'd not been so high when I bought him. I really shouldn't go shopping high."
"Kill it."
"What, the cat?"
"No, the Queen of Sheba."
"What?"
"Yes, the ****ing cat." Horatio lit his cigarette, taking a long drag and releasing it in a puff of smoke and sighs.
"I can't kill it. What would I do with the body? Besides, I paid seventy-five bucks for it. Maybe I can put it on craigslist?"
"Whatever, look can we get back to what I was saying?"
"Oh, right, Steve. Well you have to admit he is rather awesome. I mean the kick ass beard alone could win a medal."
"I'll admit, the beard is rather full and luxurious. Still, a ****ing medal?"
"Well what about all that awesome pop culture trivia he knows? Or the comics he's written? Those have all been pretty rad."
"Sure, sure. But, ****. I mean, a medal?" Horatio dropped heavily into the natty hotel chair beside the large window overlooking a parking lot filled with the vehicles of failed salesmen and johns.
"Well, what about his impeccable taste in music? You've got to admit, the man has great taste!"
"Shit, now that you say it that way."
"Look, we both know what the real problem is."
"Oh? And what's that Nancy Drew?"
"You wish you were Steve."
"Shut your whore mouth!" Horatio screamed, slamming the phone onto it's base. The bells of the ringer let out a series of tinks as the vibration eased out of the phone.
Horatio sat and stared out the window, watching the sun fade behind the Starlight Motels sign and surrounding palm trees. As the last light flickered out behind the sign and it's giant neon star, Horatio whispered into the soft glow of the oncoming darkness "I really do wish I could grow a great beard though."

Bolivia? Maybe the Ukraine.