Naked Page #5

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"Swing Low, Sweet Chariot."

Next on the playlist is

"What a Friend We Have in Jesus."

I ain't never heard so many slave songs

played back-to-back in my life.

It's so bad, Rob.

I wish we could trade places, man.

Yeah, I seriously doubt that

because I'm standing

in the hotel lobby completely naked.

- Buck-ass naked?

- Benny, this is not a joke.

Or course not, man. People are pissed.

All right, I'll be right there.

(sighs)

I'm supposed to be

at my wedding right now.

Congratulations.

You seem like quite a catch.

Listen, I'm not going anywhere

until I get in my room.

I demand...

These gentlemen will be escorting you

off the premises.

I don't care who you get to...

Uh-oh.

Whoo! Whoo! (grunts)

- (woman shrieks)

- Oh, thank God. Housekeeping!

No... (squeals)

Listen. Listen.

I'm supposed to be at my wedding.

I am locked out of my room.

My wallet, my tux, everything's in there.

- Can you please let me in?

- (speaking Spanish)

Listen, I know the Palmetto Hotel

is supposed to be a really nice hotel,

but the service here is unacceptable!

(speaking Spanish)

It's the Mills House Hotel!

Uh-oh. Gracias.

Gracias. De Nada. (screams)

(gasps) Watch it! Move! Oh!

(grunts)

Ooh-ooh! What in the hell is this?

(man) Here comes Abdalla Tanui of Kenya,

rounding the corner

for the final quarter mile.

It's the Cooper River Bridge Run.

Have you been living in a cave?

No, New York.

They have clothes in New York?

Listen, brother, I need to get

to The Palmetto Hotel.

(grunts)

Oh, boy. Okay, okay, okay.

(sighs)

- (screams)

- (grunts)

Bro, that was a microbrew.

I am so sorry.

Oh, excuse me.

- Ah!

- I didn't mean to rub that on you.

Excuse me, sir. Do you have anything

I can wear? I'll take anything.

Excuse me, officers.

I'd like to report a pervert.

- I'm pretty sure that's not a crime.

- Thank God.

No, there's a man standing over there,

and he's completely naked.

Uh-oh.

That would be a crime.

- Damn streakers.

- Let's get to work.

- Let's get dirty.

- Good one.

Forget it! I'll pay you back!

Uh-oh.

(man) Uh-oh.

Looks like we have a newcomer...

who's lost his shorts!

But look at that guy go.

- (cheering and laughing)

- (camera shutters clicking)

(whimpers) Oh, sh*t.

(grunts)

(crowd gasps)

Well, well, well.

Mr. Anderson.

Mr. Ding-a-ling.

Your story checks out.

Your belongings are, in fact,

in room 412 at the Palmetto Hotel.

Thank you. So I can go?

No. You're still being charged

with unlawful entry

and shaking your Johnson at people.

What's your pre-game like?

You stretch beforehand or, you know,

just straight up get wasted?

Sir, I am not a streaker, okay?

I was just trying to get to my wedding.

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