Next Day Air Page #2

He's crazy.

Oh, my God!

Leo, I saw that.

No, you didn't.

Here. Try not to drop this one. Thank you.

I'm glad you're in a good mood today.

What's up? You're not mad at me no more?

I'm not, but I can't speak for Miss Jackson.

She wants to see you

in her office right now.

- I think that lady told on me.

- What did you do?

She thought I was smoking weed

when I delivered her package.

- You smell like weed right now.

- Say word.

See. Look at you.

- Wait. Yo, let me ask you something.

- What?

Who was the dude

that picked you up from work yesterday?

Who, Barton? He's just a friend.

- What did you say his name was?

- Barton.

- Barton?

- Hmm.

His name is Barton?

Mmm-hmm.

You f***ing him?

Hold up. Excuse you.

Don't worry about who I'm f***ing.

We broke up a week ago.

I mean, he's got a nice car

but he ain't got nothing on me.

Look, Leo. I'm sorry, but I'm in love.

So do what you want to do with that.

You should go ahead and quit this job.

I should've never got that b*tch this job!

I should have never got...

Leo! Get in here!

- I got a couple more boxes...

- Now! God damn it!

I got a call from a woman yesterday

that said when she answered her door

you were there with a joint in your mouth!

A lady said that about me?

- You know I don't smoke joints.

- Boy, don't get stupid on me.

What? Do you think nobody knows

you smoke around here?

Walking around with them little sticks

in your mouth,

breath stinking about weed.

Ain't nobody stupid around here.

Put your shirt in! Get in.

I don't know what to do with you.

I'm tired of talking.

It's time for you to stop

and take a look at the big picture,

'cause I'm about to fire your ass.

Oh, sh*t! You're gonna fire me?

Mom! Don't fire me. Please, Mom. I'm sorry.

Yeah, you're always sorry.

Sit your sorry ass down.

But this time I mean it. I'm dead serious.

You will never hear a negative thing

about me ever, ever, ever again, Mom.

Please, I need this job.

Yeah. And I need it, too,

but you're making me look bad.

Please. Please, Mom. I'm your son.

What you gonna do?

You're gonna throw me out on the street?

You're gonna throw your only son

out on the street, Mom? Please?

Mommy. Mommy?

- One more time, you hear me?

- No more times. How about that?

If I get one call about you, you are fired!

Better you than me.

You know, I think that's fair, Mommy.

Don't mommy me. Look at Eric.

Yes, Eric.

Does Eric live at home with his momma?

- No.

- No.

Eric comes in here on time to do his work,

to take care of business.

You're absolutely right, Mom.

And you know what? It's getting late,

so I need to get

these packages out before...

And if I get one call about you, just one...

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