Girls Trip Page #9

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Thank you. You have a good day, too.

- What the hell happened?

- Breathe, just breathe.

- Just calm down.

- I was gone for three minutes.

- This sh*t took one.

- What? Th-The...

Hockey players don't even fight that fast.

Ma'am, I need you to leave

- the premises immediately.

- Oh!

Hello, sir.

Uh, Ryan Pierce, this year's

Essence keynote speaker,

and author of You Can Have It All.

I am sorry.

I'd like to apologize for my friends,

but I can assure you that

everything is fine now.

Ma'am, she's holding a broken

bottle of Chteau Mardaux.

Oh, don't be speaking

French to me, motherf***er!

Dina,

you're lucky my aunt is hard of hearing.

And you lucky TSA took that

straight edge away from me.

- Okay, okay, okay, all right.

- Mr. Pierce,

we're in the process of

removing her right now.

- Thank you. - Dina.

- Oh, Wai-Wai-Wai-Wai-wait.

- Wait. Really, that is not necessary.

- Dina, calm down.

I promise you. We are longtime

friends, since college.

I mean, this is just the

way we greet each other.

Ms. Pierce, I'm sorry,

but that's not the way we do things here.

Okay. Understood.

But we are not pressing charges, okay?

Isn't that right, Stew?

Well... no.

But if that's the hotel's policy,

- then I understand.

- No!

- What? You know what, you're ridiculous.

- Eat a dick.

- I mean that as a sister to a brother.

- You know what?

- You need to stop.

- You know what, it's cool. I'm-a leave.

- Okay, we're leaving. We're gonna leave.

- I'm-a leave.

- Just give me a second.

- It's all gonna be good.

Oh! Dina! Oh, my...

Okay, you know what, Dina, get over here.

Milk Dud head mother...

You look like a ugly, dirty Mr. Clean!

Your girl needs a leash.

Swipe-ass bastard!

Your room. Now.

I don't want to go to my room.

That place is nasty.

It's haunted.

I was there last year... swear to God,

was up in there last year...

a ghost tried to f*** me.

You ever been f***ed by a ghost?

Are you kidding me?

You said you ended this sh*t

and now there's a picture?

Are you not understanding?

And on top of it, the b*tch is here.

I didn't invite her.

Well, neither the f*** did I.

You need to call her and you need to send

that genetically enhanced ass home!

Come on, babe. How am

I supposed to do that?

The same way you tell

her to come get some dick.

You tweet, Snapchat, DM,

smoke signals... whatever you do,

I don't give a sh*t.

You know what? Whatever.

I'm not doing this.

This is stupid.

This isn't a marriage,

but we agreed to at least be a partnership,

and you can't hold up

your end of the bargain,

let alone your pants.

This is against everything

I tell my readers, my followers,

and yet I'm putting up with it?

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