The Lemons Part 23

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So whole time I’m up to  Part 25 since Saturday so any donations will be met with Part 24 in your e-mail! Shit, donations over $10 will get you Part 25 also. I mean, that’s only if you want to read about the Weeknd vacuuming cocaine off of Blue Ivy and Joanne Prada scamming police.

 

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Bernie: Damn, Kelly, really?

Kelly: I am not sorry. Ava says that you’ve been acting strange so we all wanted to talk to you. And Octavia Spencer and Viola Davis are her for some reason.

Bernie: They don’t know what they talking about. I’m fine.

Ava: No, nigga, you not. Come. Sit and let us heal you.

Bernie: Goan, now. I have some unfinished business and I can’t leave.

Kirk: Beg your pardon?

Viola: Boy, what kinda business you need ununfinished?

Kelly: Is she drunk?

Ava: No, she just had a lot of alcohol.

Kelly: Oh.

Kelly: Listen, we care about you, Kirk. Please sit down.

Bernie: Kelly, you don’t understand. This is a set up.

Kelly: A set up? No, this is an intervention. You’re not well, so we’re intervening.

Kirk: An intervention!?

Bernie: I dont need no damn interventions. I need some reefer and some breasts in my face. See, Snoop introduced me to that kush. Had me spin-

Kelly: Kirk, this is what we’re talking about. This isn’t you.

Viola: Oh, you have no idea.

Bernie: Don’t talk like you know me. You don’t know me, Viola.

Viola: First impressions last the longest, sweetie.

Kirk: My publicist is going to kill me, lord.

Kelly: I’m pretty sure most interventions start with us telling the afflicted how much we love and care for them.

Ava: I don’t love this nigga

Bernie: You wound me, Mother Africa

Ava: Tuh

Kelly: We want you to get better, Kirk.

Bernie: I want to get better, too, Juicy Fruit, but I want to do one thing first.

Octavia: And what’s that?

 

*Bernie turns around to run for the door only to fall over Lil Mama who promptly wraps her limbs around his lower body*

 

Lil Mama: Now!

Kelly: What in his holy name?

 

*Octavia gets up from the couch with a syringe in hand and quickly walks toward Bernie Mac. Ava and Viola stand up and follow from a safe distance.*

 

Kelly: What is going on? Is that methadone?

Octavia: What? No! You sound crazy.

Octavia: Its spiritual expulsion elixir.

 

*Octavia kneels down next to Kirk as Bernie claws at the ground to escape his fate*

 

Kirk: Thank God this is over.

Bernie: NO!

 

*Kirk Franklin’s back almost arches into a U shape when a sparkling black smoke flies out of his mouth and dissipates into the air*

 

Lil Mama: Did we . . .  Did we do it.

Octavia: Maybe. I didn’t even put the syringe in. I guess I scared him away.

Kelly: WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?

Octavia: Oh, yes, Kirk Franklin was possessed by Bernie Mac’s ghost.

Kelly: Huh?

Ava: Kirk Franklin was possessed by Be-

Kelly: I meant “huh” like that doesn’t make doggone sense.

Ava: Then say that next time.

Kelly: Tuh

Ava: Tuh

 

*The lights in the living room flicker on and off*

 

Viola: Is that the electricity?

Ava: No, it’s the water

Viola: Shut up. You such a damn smart ass all the time. I tr-

Ava: Maybe you shouldn’t be drunk asking dumbass questions! We ab-

 

*Ava and Viola argue as the furniture begins to float in a circle around the room*

 

Kelly: Oh my God.

 

*Kelly is slowly sucked into the carousel of couches and tables, rotating in the air*

 

Kelly: Help me! Get me down, please!

 

Ava: –like  I’m supposed to be the nice one because I’m lighter and shit but that’s not how the game go and–

Octavia: Help Kelly, dummy!

 

*Octavia runs over to pull Kelly down but is suddenly pushed out of the way by a coffee table*

 

Ava: Nah, I don’t want none of that

Viola: Ditto

Lil Mama: I’ve got it!

 

*Lil Mama runs through the furniture tornado to grab Kelly, but it picks up speed, pulling Kelly higher into the air and out of Niaitia’s reach*

 

Lil Mama: Aw, man. Oof!

 

*Lil Mama is knocked down by an ottoman and Kelly Price begins rotating faster and faster before all of the furniture drops and Kelly is laid gently on the floor*

 

Ava: So the guy who rented this out on airbnb is going to be pissed.

Ava: Especially once he finds out we’re not white.

Kirk: Uuuuugh. My whole body feels like a sore throat.

Ava: Is Bernie in there?

Kirk: What. . .  Uh, hello? Bernie?

Bernie: I’m right here.

 

*Kelly stands up and begins adjusting her bra. Wait, no, that’s Bernie playing with her breasts. Bernie done possessed Kelly Price.*

 

Bernie: Awwwwwwwwwwwww sheit. I got titties, now.

 

*Lianne La Havas paces back and forth next to Prince’s limp body in Taylor Swift Forest. She’s visibly perturbed by the words coming from the phone pinned between her ear and shoulder*

 

Lianne: So you’re saying he’s not coming at all?

Madonna: What part of “He fell out of a fucking helicopter” don’t you understand?

Madonna: Also, he has a show in Sacramento.

Lianne: I have him right here and you’re telling me I have to get him out myself?

Madonna: Yes. No one else is available. We’ll send agents in trucks, but they can’t get you out of the forest without drawing suspicion.

Lianne: If I have to kill Taylor Swift, it’s all of your faults.

Madonna: That’s an even better reason to leave you there. See how easy problem-solving is?

Lianne: No.

Madonna: Fantastic. Try to keep him alive while you’re at it.

Lianne: No promises.

 

*Lianne hangs up and begins dragging Prince towards the cottage*

 

???: Going somewhere?

 

*Lianne looks up to see Taylor Swift standing in the path that leads to the fairy grotto*

 

Lianne: Well, this is awkward as shit.

Taylor: Wow, so you were never a part of my squad. You were just here for Prince.

Lianne: Taylor, I. . . Hahaha you’re right. I really don’t want anything to do with your goofy fair-skinned hoe club.

Lianne: If it wasn’t for Prince, I’d totally be home riding some French guy’s face right now.

Taylor: Your manager said we would be friends.

Lianne: My manager also works for Warner Bros.

Lianne: Look, no hard feelings, TeeTee. There are more much more important things at hand than making you look fun to be around.

Taylor: Like what?

Lianne: Seriously?

 

*Lianne motions at Prince’s body*

 

Taylor: I can’t let you take him.

Lianne: You mean “you don’t want to let me take him”. He is coming with me.

Taylor: I’M NOT IN THE MOOD

 

*Taylor charges at Lianne and tackles her to the ground, knocking Lianne’s phone into Prince’s leg*

 

*Taylor and Lianne attempt to scratch at the other’s face while simultaneously grabbing the others wrists*

 

*This continues for like 23 seconds*

 

*Taylor puts both hands around Lianne’s throat just for Lianne to knock her arms away with both hands and punch her in the face*

 

*Taylor falls to the side and glares at Lianne like she’s a lover that promised to never put hands on her. Lianne stands up and gets into a kickboxing stance*

 

Lianne: I see you don’t get punched in the face enough. I bet you still can’t believe someone just hit you.

Taylor: No, I just can’t believe you punch like a bitch lol

 

*Lianne smirks and launches a front kick for Taylor before Taylor pops up and grabs her foot*

 

*Lianne yanks her foot back and hops away, just to hop forward and throw a right hook. Taylor ducks and goes to take down Lianne. Lianne easily sprawls out and pushes her away.*

 

*Taylor grabs dirt in both hands and flings it at Lianne’s eyes. Lianne spins away from the dirt and hurriedly gets back to her fighting stance.*

 

Lianne: Wow, what a cheap bitch you are! And you got dirt on my cardigan!

Taylor: Ask me if I care.

Lianne: Do you care?

Taylor: N-

 

*Lianne kicks dirt and leaves towards Taylor, causing Taylor to turn for a split second. When Taylor turns back, Lianne is throwing a crisp combo at her face. Taylor covers up and tries to back away from the barrage.*

 

*Lianne drops and sweep kicks Taylor to the ground*

 

Lianne: I’m telling you, you should definitely invest in training. Brazilian Jiu-jitsu, kickboxing, something. You never know.

Taylor: Oh, go to hell.

Lianne: Not with any of your help, it seems.

Lianne: Wait, where the fuck did Prince go?

 

*Prince hops over the fence that he came in through as BlueTammy pulls up in his Corvette. Tammy wiggles his fingers in salutations as Prince slides across the hood and hops in the passenger*

 

BlueTammy: Don’t do that shit again.

BlueTammy: Have fun? That was pretty quick.

Prince: No. No, no I did not have no fun. There was no fun to be had. The fun was bad.

BlueTammy: So Lianne is working for Warner Brothers? Whoda thunk?

Prince: “Thunk” is not a word.

BlueTammy: I’m sorry, is the nigga that spells I “e-why-e” oppressing my verbiage?

Prince: Yes, you sound ignorant

BlueTammy: And you sound like I should have left you at the Spaghetti-Haired Snake’s house

 

*BlueTammy checks his rear view*

 

BlueTammy: How did Lianne even find out you were there?

Prince: Shoot, I don’t know. She must’ve saw through that silly disguise.

BlueTammy: I guess. You looked like Kris Jenner to me.

Prince: Um, thank you, Satan?

BlueTammy: Beyoncé said we couldn’t kill or gravely injure you, but she didn’t say I couldn’t drag you out of my car and stomp your legs.

Prince: Nigga, I want you to try it. On Jehovah’s name, I want to see you do it.

BlueTammy: You know what, there’s no need. You’re almost at your new secret nigga storage space.

Prince: Yeah, okay.

 

*BlueTammy pulls up to a large, pleasant home surrounded by several acres of land and trees*

 

Prince: What? When did we even get off the str-

BlueTammy: We’re here.

Prince: Okay, this your house?

BlueTammy: What? No, I’d never let you in my house, you saucy bigot.

Prince: Saucy?

BlueTammy: You’re staying with this family.

 

*Prince turns around to see Neil Patrick Harris smiling and waving at him. Underneath his non-waving arm is David Burtka, standing behind their son Gideon and their daughter Harper*

 

Prince: Nope.

BlueTammy: Get out of my car, Nelson.

Prince: Call Beyoncé on the phone right now.

BlueTammy: No. You are a little asshole. And not the good kind of little asshole.

Prince: Okay, that’s repulsive. I’m not getting out of the car until I talk to Beyoncé.

 

*Neil and his family are still outside of the car waving*

 

BlueTammy: Look, see, you on that “let me speak to the manager” shit but, you know what, I’m having some invigorating company this evening and I’ma let you waste your time real quick so you can get out of my fucking car.

Prince: . . .  You have an attitude problem.

BlueTammy: The phone ringing, bitch.

Prince: Look, I’m

 

*Beyoncé answers the phone as Drake shows her a youtube video explaining Simone Biles gymnastic techniques*

 

Beyoncé: I am here for you.

Prince: Why is this homosexual feline creature telling me to get out of his car at Neil Patrick Harris’ house?

Bey: Because that’s who you’re staying with.

Prince: Do I have to speak to them?

Bey: It would be polite.

Bey: You act like you’re going to become part of their marriage or something.

Prince: I don’t support this devilry and you won’t subjugate me in to doing such. What about my religious freedom?

Bey: You’re dead, so you have no freedom. BlueTammy will be pulling you out of his car now.

Prince: Wh-

 

*BlueTammy pulls Prince out of the window of his corvette like he was a cat and sets him in front of the Harris-Burtka family*

 

Neil: Hi, Prince. Nice to see you again! Surprisingly!

David: You have no idea how honored I am. You’re all my aunt listened to.

Prince: Hello.

Neil: We’re gonna have such a good time, oh boy. Like, just you wait until you see what we picked out of the recipe book tonight.

BlueTammy: Mmm, I’m jealous I can’t make it. Buh-bye.

 

*BlueTammy jumps in his Corvette and reverses all the way back to the street*

 

Neil: Don’t worry, we’re not going to sweat on you lol

 

TO BE CONTINUED

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