Atlanta
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As the messages flood in, a symphony of alerts and notification sounds swell.
Flight 3256 to Amsterdam will begin boarding in 2 hours, reads a message from Swiss Air.
Yo where the fuck you at I need 20k, Alfred texts him.
A text from Van asking to be picked up from Schiphol airport lights up his phone once more.
Do you know where my underwear or my belt is?
he asks the woman he shared the bed with.
She shakes her head.
Do you speak English he inquires.
Silence is an answer.
This city is my Jesus, he exclaims.
Before his phone dies, Earn tells Darius to meet Van at the airport.
Baby mama drama, he sighs after Earns phone cuts off.
You have to follow it.
The woman and her posse dressed in all white provide directions to another home.
The dying man in question is Black and laying on a bed in the center of the room.
How high are you right now, Van asks.
High four sliding into five, he answers.
I think youre exactly where youre meant to be, the doula tells her.
The group watches as the man struggles to breathe, gasping aggressively before he submits to his fate.
Van is horrified, having expected less gruesome methods.
The security agent insists.
As his arms lift, his pants fall to the ground.
After surviving being ass out in the airport, Earn manages to make it onto his plane.
The event organizer pulls out a metallic case and hands Earn the money despite his shock.
Unbeknownst to Earn, however, Al is really enjoying his stay in a Dutch jail.
), he and the guard chat like old pals.
Once his bail has been paid, Al doesnt jump to his feet.
Whats with all the blackface?
Sounds like Santas slave, but I respect the rebrand, Earn responds.
Shrinking to avoid two women in the lobby, Al rushes to the room.
I cannot with those crazy hoes today, he says.
What the hell happened in here?
Later, when the laptop is recovered, a new problem arises.
Turn the clogs around bro; we aint doin this shit, Al tells Darius.
and tells him that the insurance claim should cover the loss and more.
the organizer asks, steaming with rage.
I dont fuck anyone, says Earn with an awkward laugh as he backs away slowly.
The organizer flies into a rage and chases Earn out of the venue after vowing to destroy him.
Why are you making me do this to you?
I need 300 pieces of fried chicken, the message reads.
Earn rolls over as if to rest, then rises once more.
All my iron-deficient baddies know eating ice is a way of life.
Van said were gonna be aimless and anemic all 2022!
Psssh, man, like, Im from the A, Al retorts.
