*Jay stands alone in Blue’s room scratching his head. Despite an open window, the idea of them leaving through it never crosses his mind*
Jay: B? Lil B?
*Jay wanders around the second floor, searching for his wife and daughter*
Jay: B? B? Lil B? Butterfinger BBs? Air B and B?
*Naomi420 and Slaybell run up the steps and into Jay Z’s bedroom*
Slaybell: Where is our queen?
Jay: You asking me like I’m the bad guy or something.
Naomi420: Wow, nigga. You forget Lemonade so easily.
Slaybell: Cishet black men are the white men of black people, I swear.
Jay: That’s quite a reach.
Slaybell: No one asked you.
Jay: Can y’all get out of my room, please?
*Slaybell and Naomi420 look at each other and then begin searching the large master bedroom for Bruno Mars, *
Kanye: Yo! Jay!
Jay: The f-
*Jay storms out of the bedroom and looks over the banister*
Kendall: Hello, Mr. Carter.
*Kylie uses her phone, completely oblivious to the current conversation*
Jay: Where’s Prince?
Kanye: He wasn’t in the car. That old white bitch tied me, Kendall, Kylie and Wiz up and took off in Wiz’s car.
Jay: Wait, Wiz? Khalifa?
Kanye: Yeah, it’s crazy. Should I come up there or are you coming down? I don’t like people looking down on me.
Jay: Yeah, no. Me and my wife are kinda–
*Slaybell walks up to Jay-Z’s side by the railing*
Slaybell: Oh, it’s Ralph Lauren’s house slave.
Jay:–. . . busy.
Kanye: Being Ralph Lauren’s house slave actually sounds kinda tight. I bet his servants would have the dopest outfits.
Naomi420: Embarrassing and unfortunate!
Slaybell: So misguided.
Slaybell: What brings you here?
Jay: Hey, I don’t think you put in on this house. I’ll ask the questions.
Slaybell: In Beyoncé’s absence, I am her voice. Until I forget the words to Hold Up, you will speak when spoken to.
Kanye: Wow, she has substitute pussy whippers. Beyoncé is a beast.
Naomi420: How dare you!
*Naomi420 prepares to jump from the balcony when Ryan Reynolds suddenly runs into the house*
Ryan: *huff* Okay, first off, your komodo *huff* your komodo dragons are in heat. Second, do you always leave *huff*your door unlocked.
Ryan: I’m so glad that’s gonna be my nickname, now. Life is sweet.
Ryan: So, yeah, um, Bruno Mars fell on my Santa Fe from a helicopter and then ran away.
Jay: Ohhhh boy.
Ryan: Yeah, and an armed soldier fell in your backyard, I think. 2016 has just been really wild for Americans.
*Kendall walks to the kitchen and looks through the patio doors. She can see two komodo dragons gnawing on a detached arm. A WB insignia is visible through the blood and viscera.*
Kendall: I think he’s in several places in now.
Ryan: Its lit! Right? Haha.
Kanye: Yes, it’s lit.
Ryan: Kanye confirmed me.
Slaybell: Naomi, scout the perimeter of the house. White man from Just Friends, show me your vehicle.
Ryan: Really? That’s the one you use? Out of everything?
*Jay follows Slaybell down the steps to speak to Kanye as she she goes to follow Ryan Reynolds to his SUV*
Kanye: So, Bruno Mars escaped?
Jay: Yeahhhhhhh. I don’t know where Bey and Blue Ivy are.
Kylie: Blue Ivy’s gone?
Kanye: Thanks for joining us, Kylie. I’m glad your brain finally returned from Saturn to see that we’re talking about things you should be present for.
Kylie: I don’t even know what I have to do with this.
Kanye: What does anything have to do with anyone? We’re all here doing shit. We’re capable of doing other shit but we only choose certain shit to do. Some shit chooses us. This shit is choosing, Kylie.
Jay: Fam, what
Kendall: Do you think they left in the helicopter?
Jay: lol how would she get on a helicopter.
Kanye: I don’t know, but she called me and told me not to put her in my Famous video soon as I thought of it.
Jay: You were gonna put her in that Famous video?
Kanye: I mean, I thought about it. She is one of the most famous people in the world.
Jay: And I wouldn’t have approved.
Kanye: It wasn’t like she would’ve been completely nude. She’s always damn near naked on stage and that’s art. This is art, that is art.
Jay: Not in the same bed as Bill Cosby and Donald Trump, though, no.
Kendall: Ryan never said anything about it crashing though. A helicopter crash would definitely be visible from here.
*Naomi420 comes back into the house*
Naomi420: There’s no trace of the Queen anywhere.
*Slaybell suddenly comes in through the front door*
Slaybell: The Queen has contacted me. Naomi, come with; Ryan Reynolds of The Proposal fame has the car running.
Jay: Where is she?
*Slaybell ignores the shit out of Hov and walks back out of the door with Naomi420*
Jay: So my wife tells YOU where she’s going but doesn’t try to contact me? What type of shit is that?
Slaybell: It’s the type of shit where Queen Beyoncé, Shepard of Bad Bitches, does want you to know where the fuck she is! Jesus, Shawn, go sit down somewhere!
Jay: I don’t know who the fuck you think you’re talking too but don’t let my business acumen fool you, ma. I’m still a Brooklyn nigga to the full-
Naomi420: What’s that supposed to mean?
*Naomi420 karate chops Jay Z in the neck and he drops like Lil Wayne’s record sales*
*Slaybell and Naomi420 walk to Ryan Reynolds Hyundai Santa Fe as Kanye, Kendall and Kylie run out to help Jay Z*
Kylie: Guys, where are the komodo dragons?
Kendall: I don’t know but let’s get Mr. Shawn back inside the house.
*Kanye hoists Jay over his shoulder and KKK take him back into the Carter mansion*
*Meanwhile, Taraji P. Henson sits on the hood of her car at a car charging station as Solo is halfway out of the passenger side, still in disbelief at her day*
*Patti Labelle drinks a Pepsi through a straw as she smiles giddily*
Patti: Wait til I tell Tina Turner about this shit. With her white husband. I’d tell your sister if she’d answer her phone.
Patti: So you just gonna be depressed? She tried to kill you, too.
Solo: For trying to protect you! I don’t understand why you two act like their isn’t enough room for two old ass, black, over-singing divas in the world! People are fine with both of you existing.
Patti: Now it’s one of us existing. Y’all don’t have to choose anyway.
Solo: Oh my god *Solo rubs the bridge of her nose*
Patti: See, that bitch is my arch nemesis, so I gotta stay a step ahead of her. I brought those white boys in as human shields so I could plant the bomb and get out. I didn’t expect y’all to be there, but I’m glad y’all are safe.
Taraji: A South American man just tried to kill me today. I think you owe us a lot of gratitude.
Patti: Of course! Y’all my down ass bitches. What y’all want? A villa?
Patti: A shared villa, of course. One of my Italian paramours died and left me one, but his mama don’t like me so I’m not taking chances.
Solo: I don’t want anything! You killed Aretha Franklin!
Patti: Stop being so goddamn, motherfucking loud! Like the opps not all over the damn place.
Patti: We charging an electric car in public. Nobody in this area is not a snitch.
Patti: Would you be giving Aretha all this damn grief if she successfully poisoned me?
Solo: Yes, Patti. Yes, I would.
Taraji: Alright, my shit is charged. What now?
Patti: Well, y’all can take me to the hotel. My work here is done.
*Solo rolls her eyes and closes her door as Taraji gets in and starts the vehicle. Patti gets back in and rolls her windows down*
Patti: It’s almost like the air is fresher. Ima sleep so good tonight.
Patti: See, you all huffing and puffing, but you gonna learn. Your sister knows how it is.
Solo: Knows how what is, Ms. Labelle?
Patti: This. This existence. Being a powerful black woman. Being important. People are gonna try you and you gotta set it up so that they don’t want to.
Patti: You think Oprah is prominent in media & entertainment because she talented and nice? Wrong. She kept the heads rolling.
Solo: Oprah didn’t kill anybody.
Patti: Exactly. She killed nobodies. That way they don’t have a chance to be anybody.
Taraji: You want me to be– Okay. So all you old rich hoes just crazy?
Patti: I ain’t no hoe. Don’t be talking to me like –
*TARAJI’S TESLA CAR IS REAR ENDED BY A HUMMER AS IT CROSSES AN INTERSECTION. THE FORCE CAUSES TARAJI’S CAR TO SPIN OUT AND CRASH THROUGH A BOOKSTORE. EVERYONE IN THE STORE IS KNOCKED TO THE GROUND BY THE FORCE*
*The silver hummer parks on the curb near the decimated storefront. Juventud exits the passenger side of the large vehicle with a 9mm handgun and puts his back up against the wall. He inches close to the hole left by the Tesla and peeks around the corner.*
*Juventud darts around the corner and points his handgun at the driver side of the car only to find no one there. He checks the backseat only to find the same.*
*Meanwhile a helicopter flies towards the helipad a luxurious villa-esque mansion approximately 12 miles away from hers*
*The helicopter comes to a barely turbulent landing onto the large yellow H*
*Beyoncé steps off of the helicopter with Blue Ivy’s hands in hers and walks towards the open doors on the marbled patio*
Some butler type nigga: Good afternoon, Mrs. Beyoncé. If only we had more time to prepare for your arrival.
Beyoncé: It is fine. If I wanted you prepared, you would have been warned.
*The Butler leads walks into the piano room and gracefully steps across the burgundy carpet as Blue Ivy looks around in awe*
Blue: This is such a nice house, mommy. It’s almost as nice as ours is.
Bey: Hahaha, yes, baby. Almost.
Blue: Whose house is this, mommy?
Bey: A friend’s.
*Blue walks into a room with various antique chairs on marble stained concrete floors. Several men sit near the fireplace to the left of the room entrance*
*One of the men stand up and walk towards Beyoncé*
Beyoncé: Hello, Drake.
Drake: Beyoncé. This is easily the most pleasant surprise of the year.
TO BE CONTINUED, HO