*Prince sits crossed-legged on the terrace of the Harris-Burka home, eyes closed as if in a gentle slumber*
*Harper walks over to Prince and touches his scarf, causing Prince to flinch way as if a hot lighter grazed his ear*
Prince: What in the
Harper: I like your headscarf, Mr. Nelson.
Prince: Thank you, little girl. Where are your parents?
Harper: They’re doing yoga, too. It must be yoga time.
Prince: Its not yoga, it’s meditating. Do you want to meditate?
Harper: What’s meditating?
Prince: Its when you sit down, close your eyes and don’t make any noise at all. When you do it for 20 minutes, food tastes better and you can stop time.
Harper: You can stop time?
Prince: Sure can. See.
Harper: See what?
Prince: I just did it.
Prince: Come on, sit down like this.
*Harper sits crossed legged next to Prince*
Prince: Now, this is where you close your eyes and stop talking.
Harper: What if I have to pee?
Prince: Then you can get away from me and go pee.
Prince: Now close your eyes and imagine that you’re at a unicorn soccer game or something, but only cheer in your head.
*Harper closes her eyes and seals her lips. Prince quietly chuckles to himself and goes back to his own meditation.*
Neil: Holy crappie, this is so cute.
*Neil Patrick-Harris emerges from the house and Prince’s lips tighten*
Neil: If Beyoncé didn’t say that I couldn’t take pictures, I would take like 2,334 pictures.
*Harper screeches like a spider just fell on her chest and begins flailing around on the ground*
Neil: Oh my God!
*Neil runs over to Harper and David comes out of the house and kneels by her side*
David: Baby, what happened?
Harper: I was watching the unicorns play soccer and the Sugarport Luckyfluffs were winning, and then Sun Apple had made a mistake and stabbed Goldenlaugh with his horn! Goldenlaugh started bleeding and choking and everyone was crying and I didn’t know what to do!
Neil: Oh, honey. . .
Prince: What. Is going on.
Neil: She has a very active imagination. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it gets kinda dark. Such is raising a little creative.
David: Let’s go in the house and watch some Kazoops.
*Harper and David walk back into the house. Prince stands up and rolls up his meditation mat that the Dalai Lama gave him.*
Prince: Look, man, I don’t like dealing with no kids. Have you ever seen me around a child?
Neil: Hm, now that you mention it–
Prince: Do y’all just let your babies run around the house?
Neil: For the most part. We babyproofed the hell out of the place so that our children can know freedom.
Prince: Only one thing can lead your children to true freedom and that is following the light of Jehovah.
Neil: Oh, that’s awesome.
Prince: It is indeed awesome.
Neil: We’ve been teaching our precious children about all of the religions of the world and we have yet to teach the them about JWs.
Prince: Is that so?
Neil: Yes. We want our kids to grow up with knowledge of the world to help them make better decisions, you know? Nothing holds you back like ignorance.
Prince: Oh, don’t I know it.
*Prince puts his hand on Neil Patrick-Harris’ shoulder, but snatches it back once he realizes what he did*
Neil: Hahaha, come on, do you need hand sanitizer to wash away the gay germs.
Prince: The sinner germs.
Neil: No, I definitely meant gay.
Prince: Look, it’s nothing personal, but anything Jehovah isn’t wit, I am not wit. Now, pardon me while I find a new meditation area.
Prince: You and your family have interrupted my grinding.
*Prince readjusts the mat under his arm and walks into the house as Neil shakes his head and watches*
*Elsewhere, we find Patti, Taraji and Mariah sitting in Mariah Carey’s dining room. Solange Knowles stands in the living room by the doorway, listening to her sister speak of recent events. . .*
Solo: But whyyyyyyy?
Bey: Because he needs to be uncomfortable. He has too much comfort.
Solo: But the media is starting to get over Lemonade, boo. You closed the album with a love ballad. You forgave him, right?
Bey: Yes. And here I am never having given him something to forgive me for.
Solo: But PartyNextDoor is a WhoreForSure. Why him? I could’ve sworn you mentioned Anderson.Paak.
Bey: Who is extremely faithful. He covers his eyes when women bend over.
Bey: Besides, my respect for him wouldn’t let me ruin his relationship.
Solo: You don’t respect Drake?
Bey: No. He squirms easily and I find him adorable in a corny way.
Solo: Well, when are you leaving? I’m ready to go right meow. Please take me home, yo.
Bey: I will be leaving soon. O’Dell Beckham came to visit and things have become humorous.
Solo: Oh my god, I’m so jealous. I wish I was there.
Bey: You really don’t. OB O’Brien really wants to meet you.
Bey: Don’t worry about it. I’ll call you when our helicopter is close.
Solo: Oh. Okay.
Bey: I love you, sister.
Solo: I love your crazy ass, too
Taraji: Solo, what the fuck are you doing?
*Solo hangs up the phone and goes into the dining room*
Patti: We thought you abandoned us. It’s assassins trying to kill us and shit, girl. We gotta stick together.
Taraji: I’m not sticking to shit, Patti. I can’t with y’all no more. I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m done. I’m ready to go, Black Jesus.
Solo: Yeeeaah, I’ma be leaving, too.
Mariah: Well, I’m not going to stop you. The sooner y’all leave, the sooner I can get on James’ sky yacht.
Mariah: Its a fly-
Taraji: Flying yacht, no shit. I’m getting a heliuber or something. You coming, Solo?
Solo: You can come with me. My sister is getting us.
Mariah: Oh, Beyoncé is coming? How is she doing? Did she hop to the next dick yet? She should try it; It’s very reinvigorating.
Solo: I . . . will tell her that.
Mariah: How’s married life treating you, though? You’re married, right?
Mariah: Is he cute? Is he black?
Solo: What the hell is this, fam?
Patti: Do you have any guns, Mariah? Submachine guns preferably? My pistol ain’t got much spunk left in her.
Mariah: BWAHAHAHA Patti, you the funniest and you know that.
Patti: Why she think I’m joking?
*A FUCKING TIGER JUMPS THROUGH THE DINING ROOM WINDOW AND ON TO THE TABLE. TARAJI TAKES OFF INTO THE HALLWAY AND UP THE STEPS. PATTI AND MARIAH DART UP FROM THE TABLE BUT MARIAH FALLS BACKWARDS. SOLANGE GETS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOORWAY TO THE DINING ROOM. THE TIGERS GROWLS SO AGGRESSIVELY.*
Aretha: Sit, Mandingo.
*Mandingo relaxes after hearing Aretha’s voice. Aretha?*
*Aretha walks in from the kitchen? And she stands next to the table and looks at Patti? How–*
Aretha: You blew up my goddamn house, you fat sea otter.
Aretha: You owe me one life-of-a-dumb-ass-bitch.
*At Drake’s Calabasas hangout, Drake enjoys a glass of orange juice in his kitchen when O’Dell Beckham Jr. walks over*
Drake: What’s good, ODB?
O’Dell: Shit, man, you know how it is. Out here catching balls and running with balls.
O’Dell: Playing with balls basically
Drake: Haaaaa. . .
O’Dell: Yo, I saw that shit Kid Cudi said about you. That’s fucking wack, yo.
Drake: No worries, no big ting. Meek basically said the same shit and no one cares. At least Meek made music people like in the past 3 years.
O’Dell: Forget that nigga
*O’Dell puts his hand on Drake’s shoulder and Drake looks at it like it just told him that it killed someone*
O’Dell: This is why you gotta keep real ones around you. I’m telling you, all my niggas got my back. We stay on each other.
O’Dell: About being real.
Drake: Of course.
O’Dell: Is it hot in here?
Drake: I mean, it’s like a pleasant humidity–
*O’Dell walks over to Drake’s refrigerator and opens it to see an entire shelf of water bottles*
O’Dell: Oh, shit! Mind if I wild out?
Drake: I mean, yeah, you can have some water. The water is for everybody.
Drake: You gotta stay hydrated, right?
O’Dell: Man, you ain’t never lied.
*O’Dell opens the water bottle and begins pouring it all over his head and chest. He then shakes his head like a border collie that just came out of the rain.*
O’Dell: Sorry, man. I been playing football so long, I’m used to pouring the water on myself and drinking the Gatorade lol
Drake: Hahaha, yeah
O’Dell: I would say it’s the other way around, but Gatorade would have me all sticky.
Drake: Haaaaa, I know, right?
O’Dell: Yeah, I’d be sooo sticky.
*Drake becomes uncomfortable with O’Dell’s gaze but Beyoncé and Blue Ivy walk into the room before Drake is overcome by his awkwardness*
Bey: Am I interrupting something?
O’Dell: Wow, not at all, Queen Bey.
Drake: Oh, Beyoncé, am I glad to see you.
Bey: Really? Why?
Drake: Because. . . You’re so pretty, you know?
Bey: Thank you. That’s not why, though.
Bey: Me and my baby will be leaving soon. I have enjoyed my time at your home. It was very fruitful.
Drake: Does that mean Blue enjoyed the produce garden?
Drake: It was. . . it was like a reverse pun.
Bey: Okay, nigga.
Bey: Say goodbye, baby.
Blue: Bye, Drake. Bye Odle.
O’Dell: Lol bye
Drake: You know you’re always welcome, Blue. Mi castle, su castle.
Blue: Thank you!
*As Beyoncé and Blue exit the room, the Weeknd walks into it*
Weeknd: Goodbye, Beyoncé and Beyonce Jr. It was a pleasure.
Blue: Stop leaving so much sugar out.
Weeknd: Only when you’re here, princess.
Blue: Mommy, he’s so weird.
*Beyoncé and Blue head to their newly hijacked helicopter with pilot*
Weeknd: Drake, hahahaha, we need to speak. You have an issue.
Drake: What issue would that be?
Weeknd: Well, let’s let Funkmaster Flex tell it.
*The Weeknd lifts his phone which is running the hot 97 app*
Flex: Okay, it’s time
Flex: See, me and the man Jay Z squashed the beef. It’s done. We spoke man to man.
*No they didn’t*
Flex: Bygones are bygones.
Flex: Jay Z got some words for yall. He’s pissed. Don’t play with him.
*EXPLOSION EXPLOSION AIR SIREN EXPLOSION*
Flex: I’ma let him tell it, though. Let’s go. New Jay.
*EXPLOSION AIR SIREN*
Somebody’s child: 808 mafia!
Jay: These little niggas need some reproach
Jay: They haven’t heard I’m the one you don’t approach.
Jay: You ain’t crashing the boards or calling them shots.
Jay: I’m the one who knocks.
Jay: You must not have heard that I’m that guy.
Jay: I give the word, they shoot an owl out the sky.
Jay: Every body next door at the party now.
Jay: Then Hov come through and shut the party down.
Jay: Like, “hey man the music too loud”
Jay: Don’t get abused now cuz your dudes too proud.
Jay: I’m sending shots, better tighten up your vest
Jay: When October’s Very Own meets December’s Very Best
*Drake slaps both hands into his own face and drags them down slowly*
Weeknd: You wanted to be badman on campus so bad.
Drake: Shut up, Abel.
TO BE CONTINUED