Game Over, Man! Page #5

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Five hundred million?

You are crazy, Mr. Albino Bad Guy.

That's not gonna happen.

He doesn't have that kind of cash flow.

I-it's all tied up in assets, uh, bonds...

Does this free up some of those assets?

I get it.

This is a prank.

It's just kind of dark, man, like...

Knoxville, you can come out now!

No! Steve-O! Steve, you okay?

-Come on, man. We told you we can't.

-Th-th-there is a way.

Oh, dear.

An account a-access code.

Only, uh, he and his father have it.

What the f*** are you doing?

He's playing nice.

Now it's your turn.

I can't, okay?

If... if I give you those codes,

-my dad'll kill me, a'ight?

-What's its name?

Wh... what?

The dog.

The dog?

- Mm.

- Lil Puma.

Little Puma. Hi, pal.

Oh, that's a good boy.

Come to Uncle Conrad.

We have a couple

of those extra breach sensors.

Get them with a corresponding collar.

Be careful with his hip dysplasia, please.

Of course, of course.

You know, I love dogs. Big dogs, usually.

Little dogs not much, but this one

has a great personality.

No, no, no. What-- what are you doing?

There you go, Lil Puma. Go get it, boy.

- Oh, thank you very much.

- Don't do it.

Puma, stay. Stay, Puma.

No!

Why is this thing beeping?

Oh, sh*t!

I must have given you the nine...

which was upside down.

That is my bad.

The lesson still stands.

The account numbers,

or there will be more bloodshed.

Do it, Bey Awadi.

Okay. Okay, clear. Go.

- Ready?

- Yeah.

Zip-tie zip line. Baby Dunc, you genius.

Uh, it was my idea.

You know, I saw the scaffolding.

I said, "Home Alone-style zip line."

-Okay, it's fine. Good work.

-Thanks.

Okay. Are you ready to be Tom Brady?

Because that's what's about to go down.

You're gonna become Tom Brady, Alexxx.

-F***in' Tom Brady, dog.

-Yes.

-Yeah, you're Tom Brady.

-Tom Brady, dog!

Yeah, you're Tom Brady.

Shh.

Here we go.

I'm Tom Brady!

-Tom Brady!

- We the Brady Bunch

- We the Brady Bunch

- The what? What? Brady Bunch?

Do you think Tom Brady

is in The Brady Bunch?

Yeah, it's the dad, right?

-No.

-No, he isn't.

Oh, I thought that's who we...

He was cool, though. He was really cool.

He had a hell of a... arm.

Okay, why don't you just show us

how my zip line works, Joel?

-Yeah.

-Right, right. Um...

Okay, so basically,

I rigged up this ironing board,

- like a harness.

- Right.

And then you kind of use it

like a hang glider. Okay...

- Yeah?

- Yeah.

Kevin McCallister would be proud.

Maybe even Tom Brady.

-Don't talk about Tom Brady.

-Who's he?

- Just don't talk about him.

- All right.

Quarterback.

Here's what we're gonna do.

We are gonna shoot rock, paper, scissors

to find out who goes first.

Okay, but no "two out of three" bullshit.

-Whoever wins wins.

-Right.

-Fair and square, right? Okay.

-Yes, yeah.

Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.

- Yes.

- F***!

- Thank God.

- F***!

Let's go again. Two out of three.

Let's be fair.

-What? You just said--

-No, do not do this, okay?

It could've happened to any of us,

just happened to you.

Yeah, maybe, or maybe hella long ago,

you guys were like,

"If we ever do rock, paper, scissors

with Alexxx, we should shoot paper."

Because two guys shooting paper,

that's suspect.

- I can't...

- Yeah.

Okay, just forget it.

Let's shoot again.

- What? No.

- Yes, thank you, Baby Dunc.

-How about, don't be a sore loser?

-Don't call me a loser.

Hey, guys, stop fighting.

We'll make a dummy and do a test run.

-We have a dummy right here.

-No, we'll just use one of the dead bo--

Oh, my God!

Oh, God!

A little help.

Help!

Oh, f***.

Hey, give me half your Which Wich.

Well,

if I wanted to eat a half a sandwich,

I'd have brought half a sandwich, Chet.

Think you're pretty smart, huh?

You the one installing

a seven-layer firewall

to mask a $1/2-billion transaction

at the world's third-largest bank

using only your wife's tablet,

or is that me?

Oh, that's right. It's me.

-Way to go, Baby Dunc.

-Huh?

What? You... This is your plan!

No, I said, "Home Alone-style zip line."

This is Home Alone 3 at best.

We were supposed to look cool as sh*t

coming out of the window,

doing a badass exit.

Now we look like a bunch of losers

hanging up here.

Oh, God.

- What the f***?

- The police!

Hey, we're up here!

Thank you so much. Thank you, God.

Police! Yeah! Holla! Hooty-hoo!

- Oh! Oh, sh*t.

- What the f***?

-Oh, my God.

-What are you doing up there?

There are people in the hotel with guns!

-No!

-Shooting people!

-You're all f***in' pigs!

-Get us down!

F*** you, copper!

They're here to help us.

We're not gonna look cool as sh*t

getting saved by the LAPD.

Do you even listen to Kendrick Lamar?

Are there people up there with guns

or not?

Yes, there are! That is one right there!

He is a man with a gun.

He tried to cut off our d*cks.

Oh, f*** you.

You wish I touched your dick.

We're coming up there.

What room number is that?

- Nine seventeen!

- We're coming up there now!

Don't f***ing move.

LAPD. Open the door.

Are you aware you've got three waiters

hanging outside the ninth-floor window?

Sir, walking away from a cop

is a bad idea.

I will arrest you for obstruction.

Open the f***ing door!

Sh*t.

Officer down! Officer down!

Hank, I need backup!

I got you, Danny. I'm calling for backup.

I'm coming right now.

- Stay there!

- No! No, no, no!

-Don't leave us up here.

-Guys, it's too late. Okay?

Let's wiggle our asses back in there,

kill some bad guys,

and get our f***ing check back.

I'm not risking my life for the check.

Why not? It's our dreams, right?

No! The check is your dream.

My dream is just working on Skintendo.

But now you can!

And we are! Okay? We have been!

- Baby Dunc...

- Without you!

Oh, what the f***?

Band-Aids and butter beans! We're online.

Conrad, we're online.

Awaiting an access code.

Speak clearly.

And speak quickly.

F***. F***!

Fifty-three...

Twenty-two...

Zero two...

Zero two...

- Thirty-three...

- Thirty-three...

-Sixty-nine.

-Six-nine.

I want verbal confirmation

from you, Darren.

Are you working on the f***ing game

without me?

Affirmative.

You motherfuckers!

I'm gonna wiggle us back in there,

you backstabbing b*tches!

Sixty-nine, 420, 69.

- I'm serious!

- Sixty-nine, 69, 69.

Oh, sh*t!

What the f***?

Conrad, hold on.

Sh*t.

We've had a breach.

Oh, God.

Sixth floor, security room.

What do you mean? Who-- who is it?

Who the f*** are you? Huh?

Huh? You SWAT?

Are you SEALs?

Transporters?

Answer me right the f*** now,

or I'll plug you in three seconds.

Uh...

-One...

-No.

Please.

-Two...

-Please.

-No!

-No, no. Wait, wait, wait--

Three!

Oh, f***.

Oh... oh, my God.

I'm a genius! I wiggled us back in.

Whoo!

Donald, kill them

and then enter the code.

You do have the code, right, Donald?

Donald?

Donald?

There's a cop at the lobby door.

We shot him.

But he got away.

Why are you looking at me like that, huh?

You're the sneaky fucks.

The backstabbers,

the betrayers, the Judas...

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