All About the Money Page #2

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That has all the information.

- I have company.

- Oh, hey, hi, guys.

What you doing, just chillin'?

I used to chill.

Let me tell ya, um...

Ha, I know what that is.

That's not a asthma breather,

is it?

You guys!

- All right, so...

- No, you can't have any.

And my parents give me

an allowance every month

which is not enough to afford

this amazing vacuum,

so I couldn't even buy one

if I wanted to, thank you.

That leads me to the other part

of my whole presentation.

Making money. You, sir.

How would you like to make

$10,000 a month?

Wait, so you

make $10,000 a month?

Dressed like that?

Um, I don't. My boss does.

And then the guy above him.

At the office,

it's like a tower, OK?

They have like,

you have the level one...

It's like a pyramid. They don't

think of it like a pyramid.

They say don't say

it's a pyramid.

It's better looking at it

on the board,

but yes, you can, you can make

that kind of money.

It's like he's an anchor

on the Sad News Network

and the special is

"My Life Sucks."

I'm gonna dump this right here.

No, you're not, whoa!

Dude! Oh, my God!

Be cool, man. It's from the vacuum company.

They give me this stuff.

Whoa, hold on, Vince, is it?

Is this really your job?

Like, you just bust on in here,

dump dirt and sh*t

all over the floor

and tell me I can

make more money than you do?

I get it.

I'm the guy being laughed at

in the room, right?

It's not like

there's much difference

between you and this pile

of dirt right now.

This is not very, um...

uh...

There's, uh, you can have it.

I'm sorry.

No! What? Take it?

You're not gonna clean this up?

The vacuum works, so they say.

Wow! Oh, my God.

Look, man, when I tell you to go get us

some coffee, don't put cream in my sh*t.

Black people

like our sh*t black!

Christopher Jefferson Johnson, you ain't

playin' no more damn games with me!

You can wallow that fat ass

right on back out that door.

- You can wallow your ass if you don't sign

these divorce papers. -B*tch, please.

I'm warning you, Chris, you're

not gonna mess this up for me.

He's a real man.

He's the next nigga.

F*** you lookin' at?

Get your ass to work!

Affirmative action, that's

why I hired your honky ass!

Get, get, get!

Now, look here, you think

you're gonna get knocked up

by this rich motherf***er then

try to get a divorce from me

so you can run off and get paid

and get married and sh*t?

It ain't goin' down

like that, baby.

Oh, you gonna give me a divorce,

you best believe that.

You got an envelope,

I got an envelope.

In this envelope

is a picture of you,

buckin' my brother,

Jerome Jefferson Johnson III,

and a neighbor, and the

motherf***er across the street.

The mailman!

There's a picture of you in here

with peanut butter

on your left ass cheek

with the dog licking it off,

I invented that!

Now, you wanna get a divorce,

you and your rich sugar daddy

gonna have to pay me.

That's what it is.

Now, get the f*** out.

- Get, rock, agitate the ground!

- Uggh!

That's a waste of a good ass.

Get to work!

F*** you lookin' at?

Take the tire off, get the

engine out the motherf***er,

jump in it and drive,

kill yourself.

F*** you, too!

All you motherfuckers

act like you ain't never had

a b*tch fool around on you.

I ain't the only one

up in this motherf***er.

I quit, too, hah, b*tches!

Yes?

Chris!

Oh, my God, how are you?

You know what,

I actually don't give a f***.

Please hold while I get the other half

of this sh*t sandwich on the line.

- Hello? -How are ya? You're on

the phone with the Rickster.

- Who the f*** is this? -I said

"the Rickster" the first time.

- That's long for Rick.

- Who is Rick?

It's Rick, for f*** sake.

Chris, this is Rick the dick

from college.

Why you callin', motherf***er?

We don't like you anyway.

You still sporting that dick

broom on the top of your lip?

Ha! Wow! Dick broom.

Still not funny.

You better come up with better material when

you go visit your buddy at the funny farm.

You're gonna need to lighten

the mood.

- Rick, English, please.

- Your buddy Kurt

completely bombed

in the boardroom.

You know what, scratch that,

he didn't just bomb,

that mo-Fo kamikazed it.

Aaah!

Ooh, ah-soooo!

Ohhhh!

What the f*** are you dinks

making cars for anyhow?

- You can't drive for sh*t!

- This is an outrage!

- He f***ing hates the Asians.

- Harro?

Bring me some ramen noodles!

He basically offended

everybody in the room.

Mr. Horny,

rock-and-roll time!

Then he stepped up

to his father-in-law/boss

and let him know that he actually prefers

to cram it in his daughter's pooper.

I had anal intercourse

with your daughter!

You're finished, you hear me?!

You son of a b*tch!

Ah, romantic.

I got to tell ya,

it was the singular greatest/worst

thing I have ever seen.

Man, I ain't even

tryin' to hear this sh*t.

Christopher, you may not be

trying to hear this,

but, broheim, it is all true.

Christopher...

Vincent... never forget this.

Cradle my balls.

- Yeah, whatever.

- Go f*** yourself.

Guess it can't get

any worse than this sh*t.

Who took the last goddamn

roll of toilet paper!

So, is this what life's

all about:

infidelity, going crazy,

hopeless dreaming?

Wait a minute,

hopeless dreaming?

What?

Vincent.

Christopher?

F***in' Chodewell?

That's Chodewell.

That is Chodewell!

Do you remember him

in gym class?

He had the little rib cage,

looked like a bird was in it?

Yeah, but most adults actually

call me by my real name,

Dr. Chadwell.

What are you up to?

'Cause, you know, you two

were the most popular

guys in school.

So, Vincent, right, you,

you must be a, what, CEO

of a multinational

corporation by now,

and, Christopher,

I can only imagine that you...

you are playing professional

football for all these years,

maybe for the Broncos,

am I right?

No, you missed the mark

just a little bit.

I'm actually broke and jobless.

Chris's here's wife's pregnant

by another man's semen,

and somewhere in this hospital,

Kurt has lost his damn mind

with a mental breakdown.

Holy sh*t! Wow, you guys.

You are quite the success

stories, aren't you?

Man, Christopher, I still

remember that game...

- Armando Garcia...

- I was 19!

- You were 22!

- I was 19!

Mr. Garcia is

Colombia's biggest drug lord

and the head

of the Garcia cartel,

which is responsible

for smuggling tons

of cocaine into

the United States each year.

Mr. Robinson then issued

a $25 million reward

out for the capture

of Mr. Garcia.

The White House is expected

to hold a press conference

to further add insight

to this newest development.

In other news, do you like cats?

You know what, f*** you!

Cho to hell, Chodewell!

Cho to hell!

You gentlemen can see

Mr. Pomeroy now.

He is pretty sedated, so I suggest

you keep your conversation brief.

I'll be quiet.

I was just waiting...

Come on, man.

Uh-huh, yeah, no, that's right.

God, Mom, I gotta go.

Two vagrants just walked in.

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