Game Over, Man! Page #6

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Judases? Judas?

The one that betrayed Jesus? Judas, right?

Yeah, you're the f***ing Judases.

Let's stop with the name-calling, guys.

- Backstabbers.

- Great.

Okay, guys, new rule: always double-check

that dead bad guys

are actually dead bad guys.

Holy sh*t!

This is a dead bad guy!

I don't know, I feel like my dead bad guy

is way worse than your dead bad guy.

"My dead bad"?

That's not your dead bad guy.

These are just dead bad guys.

Looks like a human-sized

ketchup packet exploded.

- Damn it.

- What?

Computer's busted. I can't get online.

Yeah, he is full-on spaghetti

and meat sauce down here.

-Guys. I found a phone.

-What?

Wait a second.

Why does the dead bad guy

have this dude's number?

-Who?

-What are you, a f***ing owl?

Yeah, I would love to be an owl, Darren.

So I could soar off into the night

hella majestically.

Wait, you have a phone?

You have to call for help.

Shh. No.

I think he just screened me.

He screened the dead guy.

Don't take it personally.

Shut up. Voicemail.

Hey, this is Darren and Joel.

Yeah, I'm here too, so...

And Alexxx.

The, uh-- the Dew'd Crew from the roof.

-Remember?

-Say "Skintendo."

We are calling

to find out what's going on.

There's, like...

people shooting and stuff.

Please give me a call back at this number,

uh, when it's a good time for you.

Okay, give me the phone.

-We'll talk then.

-It's not a conference call.

We're not waiting for him to call back.

You didn't even bring up

the two most important things:

the Bey and, I don't know,

how about the f***ing check?

-Come on.

-The check.

Mention a dead body. That'd be nice.

Been a while since I've left a voicemail.

I'm gonna call him back, so...

It's rude to just call right back.

You leave a message,

-let them call you back.

-Darren...

Ahmad, you dumb f***.

You gotta call somebody, yo.

- F*** the police. Except for right now.

- You're gonna get us killed.

You didn't turn it in.

You're putting everyone's lives at risk.

I'm sorry, is there something

we should be discussing?

No.

Hold up.

Why aren't you taking his phone?

No, I don't see any phone.

Um, you guys just be quiet over here.

Your f***ing creepy blue eyes

don't see the phone lighting up

in his pocket right there?

Also, it's making a noise.

It's going, "vuh, voo, vuh."

It's over!

Cut me free. Now!

Wait, wait, wait.

Hey-- this is not my fault.

Erma derailed the entire operation

the moment she got here.

And has anyone noticed her accent?

The German accent? It's fake!

She grew up in Pacoima!

Come on. She's a lunatic!

Is this true, Erma?

Yeah, I'm a lunatic.

No, no, no. No. Give me--

- Give me the gun.

- Gladly. See, told you.

-I mean, what was I supposed to do?

-Right.

Kill her. Like this.

Lovely.

Honestly, did not know

I was gonna do that.

This whole thing was you?

Mm, giving orders the whole time

from the... "dusty-ass BlackBerry"

in my pocket.

Physical keyboards

aren't so stupid now, are they?

Nah, they're still dumb as f***,

and you still got atrocious-ass halitosis,

but I'm surprised.

Yeah, well, at least my breath

doesn't smell like old-ass hyena p*ssy.

Oh, God.

-Hello, Donald, you cheeky sausage.

-What?

No, I think that Donald guy's dead.

He either was sucked out of a window,

or he choked on a computer.

So what's going on up there?

- Speakerphone.

- Who is this?

- Speaker.

- I'm going on speakerphone.

-Dew'd Crew here.

-Hey.

Lumber Jacks...

-What? Uh, hi?

-How's the Bey doing?

Wait, why do you have this guy's number?

Wait, are you a bad guy too?

Well, I suppose so, yes.

But, um, you have just forced me

to become... unmistakably evil.

Oh, f***.

I'll take the access codes now.

Nah.

Sorry, motherf***er. Can't do it.

That dude? I didn't know him.

Sh*t, he might've let me live

if I gave him the codes.

But you? F*** you.

I know if I give you the codes, I'm dead.

And I know why.

'Cause I made you eat that hooker's booty

at my birthday party, isn't it?

This motherf***er ate a hooker's booty.

You had crabs in your teeth for a week.

Remember shoving your face

right up in that crab-infested

booty hole, bro?

'Cause I do, you f***ing loser.

You dumb f***ing f***-hole.

- You f***ing suck.

- Very well.

I'll acquire my compensation another way.

And while I wait to get paid, I'll...

torture you. And kill you.

Erma! We are sending a video

to the United States government.

Oh! Also... bring me Shaggy.

What the hell's going on?

The f***ing butler?

Hey, guys, check it out.

Whoa.

Pigs brought the whole farm.

- Yeah.

- Turn on the news.

Turn on the news.

Okay.

Steve-O!

- There, there, there.

- Steve-O!

Give me that mic. Give me that mic!

Steve-O, if you can hear me

in the spirit world...

...I love you, brother.

It should've been you!

It should've been you.

you. And Channel 8.

Uh, okay, I'm-- I'm just being told

we've received a video

from the terrorists.

Warning:
what you're about to see

may not be suitable for younger viewers.

Good evening.

As you probably know, I've taken control

of the Level Hotel, Los Angeles.

I had intentions of only taking money

from a disrespectful

and arrogant billionaire child...

but that was derailed

by some idiotic waiters.

Are we the idiotics?

No, stupid. We're maids.

So now I'm holding 106 hostages

until I receive $500 million

and a helicopter,

which I will fly out of the U.S.

and release... the remaining hostages.

Oh, I should add: any breach

of this building will trigger...

an explosive collar,

creating a mess no one wants to clean up.

Additionally, I will kill one hostage

every 15 minutes

to ensure prompt payment, starting... now.

Oh, sh*t. That's hot.

Bro-- listen, man, listen.

We brothers. We brothers.

We're supposed to be brothers, man!

- I could get you Stacey Dash's number.

Oh, sh*t!

No, no, no, no. What?

As you can see,

I'm holding up my end of the bargain.

I hope you do the same.

And now, on a lighter note,

another must-see TV moment:

a very chill performance... by Shaggy.

-Yeah, uh...

-Don't kill Shaggy. I f***in' love Shaggy.

-What is happening?

-Don't kill Shaggy. Don't kill Shaggy.

I wanna do this song that I wrote

for the earthquake victims of Haiti.

- Sing "It Wasn't Me"!

- Uh...

Dude, that's not really appropriate

for-- for what--

No one wants to hear

that Haiti sh*t!

Okay? They want "It Wasn't Me."

I want "It Wasn't Me."

Sing "It Wasn't Me."

- Sing it!

- Shaggy, please!

Sing it, Shaggy!

H-honey came in

And she caught me red-handed

Creeping with the girl next door

Picture this, we were both butt-naked

Bangin' on the bathroom floor

How could I forget

That I have given her an extra key?

All this time, she was standing there

She never took her eyes off me

How ya fi give the woman

Access to your villa?

Shaggy goes on to finish the song

and is unharmed, as far as we know.

Round everybody up! We're going inside.

Shag, too soon, but I'm out.

Yeah, yo, by all means.

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