White Chicks Page #2

This ain't right.

Man, you guys sure got a lot of bags

for a weekend.

- This isn't a weekend.

- It's the weekend.

Labor Day in the Hamptons.

The last weekend of the social season.

Only the hottest people

are going to be there.

And only the hottest of the hottest

are going to make it onto the cover...

of Hamptons Magazine. And this is our year.

Open the window.

Baby likes a little fresh breeze.

I just hope the Vandergeld sisters'

private jet crashes on the way there.

- Oh, my God, Brittany!

- You were thinking it!

- I know, but you said it.

- I know.

You know Heather totally hates you

because you slept with her boyfriend.

My God. So what?

I sleep with everyone's boyfriend.

Is everybody all right?

My God! Your lip.

My God! Your nose.

Marcus, are you okay?

- I'm cool.

- Baby's in a wreck!

I can't believe...

you think we're going to go to the Hamptons

with my face looking like that.

It's really not that bad.

Just get some makeup and cover it up.

Put makeup on this?

I am so fricking pissed.

My God, this is like the

worst day of my life.

I went to go get my brows done...

and I told her to make me look like J-Lo.

And then that fricking Russian toad

made me look...

like Liza Minnelli or something.

Oh, my God! I'm going to have a B.F.

Wait. What's a B.F.?

She's going to have a b*tch fit!

- You better get out of here.

- I am going to call your boss.

- You don't have to do that.

- No, I'll call the owner of the company.

Come on, just take it easy.

Look, we can work this out.

- I'm going to write a letter.

- No.

Please don't write a letter.

Look, just calm down.

You guys just stay here.

Stay here the whole weekend.

Do whatever you want. But whatever you do,

do not leave this room.

Don't leave this room, because if you do,

everyone's gonna see those hideous scars.

Scar?

- My God! Permanent damage.

- My life is over.

If I lose this job with these good

benefits, Gina's gonna kill me.

- Well?

- They won't go.

- What do you mean, they won't go?

- They won't go.

Marcus, this weekend in the Hamptons

means everything for these girls.

They won't show up with a scratched-up

nose and a busted lip for nobody.

That's cool.

What are you doing?

I'm just going to kill myself before

the Chief does.

- Bye-bye, Kevin.

- Come on.

Don't do that. Stop being ridiculous.

I'm not being ridiculous.

You heard the man.

One more screw-up, and we're through.

- I know, man.

- See? That's probably him right now.

Hey, what's up, Chief?

There's something me and Kevin

want to tell you.

Yeah, Chief? Hey.

Me and Marcus just wanted to thank you

for the opportunity, man.

No, we didn't.

Yeah, we really appreciate it.

They wanted to stop off

and get something to eat.

He's lying to...

Two, three hours max.

Trust me.

If I don't have them there in three hours,

I'll cut them off and mail them to you myself.

- All right, take care. Bye.

- He lied, Chief.

Why did you do that? You know them girls

aren't going to be there.

They'll be there.

Hey, Josh.

How'd you like to be part of the team?

Where are the white women at?

Let's do this.

He's right. Make them bigger.

Chief. They're here.

Chief. They're here.

All right, the girls are yours.

Stick with them. Don't blow your cover.

Yes, sir.

- Are you sure this is going to work?

- Just trust me. Follow my lead.

What's up, money? You got a problem?

What you looking at my ass for?

No, yo, hold my poodle.

What's up? Y'all got a problem?

Y'all want some of this?

You want some of this, punk? What, boy?

- I'll take the both of you.

- Cut it out.

- He was looking at my ass like I'm a girl.

- You are a girl!

And you better start acting like one

or you're going to be an unemployed girl.

Damn. I'd sure like to cut that cake.

Here, yo, hold this!

Hey, you trying to look at my lumps?

I'll pull off my G-string and handle mine.

- I'll handle mine.

- Kevin, it's Gomez.

Welcome to the Royal Hamptons Hotel.

- The bags are in the car, Jos.

- The name is Gomez.

- Whatever.

- Yeah, great. Here. Take Baby.

Clean out his bag.

Poor thing just pooped everywhere.

And teach him how to say,

"Quiero Taco Bell."

- Thanks a lot, Rico Suave. Grazie.

- Thanks, Julio.

Right away, ma'am.

Sweetie, you've got to slow up

with those Cosmos.

Brittany and Tiffany Wilson, checking in.

Sorry. They're new.

- Dr. Dorfman did an amazing job.

- They feel so real.

Hi. Yeah, I just...

I need a credit card, please.

And some Id, please.

Credit card? Id?

I'm so fricking pissed.

- Ma'am, I...

- First of all...

I go to Dr. Dorfman.

He totally messes up my nose job.

I ask him to make me

look like Gwyneth Paltrow.

I get off the surgery table

looking like freaking Shrek.

Then I get here, and Mr. Harper...

makes me feel like

I'm some dumb blonde with fake b*obs...

going to a Hugh Hefner party.

No. I didn't mean to offend you.

- It's just protocol.

- I'm going to have a B.F.

My God. She's going to have a b*tch fit.

No. Don't have a B.F. now...

I want to speak to your supervisor.

Better yet, I'm going to write a letter.

- Miss, there's no reason to...

- You are in big trouble.

"Dear Mr...

"Royal Hampton.

"I am a white woman...

- "in America."

- Ladies, is there a problem here?

- Yes.

- No.

There's no problem.

These are two of our VIP guests.

Issue them keys. Immediately.

VIP. Learn your acronyms.

- What a sweetheart.

- Here you are. Enjoy your stay.

Has anyone ever told you

you look just like Denzel Washington?

Yes, actually I have

heard it once or twice.

What a beautiful chocolate man.

Beautiful. God.

- That was close.

- Yeah.

- Are they waving at us?

- I don't know.

- What are we going to do?

- Just act friendly.

My God.

Well, don't act like you don't know us.

Karen, Lisa, Tori.

Oh, my God.

I haven't seen you in forever.

It's only been a year.

Did you do something different

to your hair?

- No.

- You gain weight?

- No.

- I know! You just had a birthday.

- Yeah.

- Totally. Total fire sign. I knew it.

- I totally knew it.

- Wait a minute.

There is definitely...

something different about the two of you.

Collagen.

You little witch. How did you know?

Duh, it's totally obvious.

Your lips went from Cameron Diaz to Jay-Z.

You got taller, too.

We got our knees done.

You can do that?

- You should do that.

- Yes.

Well, it was really good

seeing you ladies. Bye.

Excuse me.

Where do you think you're going?

To go freshen up.

The Hamptons Magazine reception

just started, so let's hit it.

Hey, check it out.

Are those the Wilson sisters?

More like the Wilt Chamberlain sisters.

I never noticed how big they are.

But I'd still bone.

My God. There's Heath.

Dude, are you hitting Karen Googlestein,

the soap heiress, too?

How do you keep that sh*t dangling?

I keep telling her I'm going to break

up with my girl.

You better hope Heather doesn't find out.

She won't.

At least until I wrap up this big deal

with her father.

Rate this script:4.0 / 3 votes