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Heineken and Daisies (the Baby, We Need To Talk remix)

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“Chris?”

“Mnuh.”

“Chris, I need your help.”

“Imma right there. Where are you?”

“At home?”

“Oh. Right. C, it’s — fuck, it’s four in the morning. Is anything on fire?”

“What? No, no, I had this idea. I need your help with Lance. ”

“Is this a booty call?”

“What?”

“I’m just trying to figure out a thing. Appropriate response. Do I need to come over there? And if so, do I need to put on pants?”

“Why aren’t you wearing pants, Chris?”

“I was in bed.”

“Oh. Oh! Sorry, was I interrupting?”

“C, that is not even — never mind. What do you need?”

“Doing anything tomorrow night?”

* * *

“I think this made more sense at 4am. Why am I helping, again?”

“Because I’ll make it worth your while. And hopefully, we end up with a naked Lance.”

“Worth my — mmm. Mm-mm — wait! Come back here!”

“Eyes on the prize, Chris.”

“… I cannot believe you just said that. You fucker, stop laughing at me.”

“Busy now!”

“Oh, I see how it is. You string me along and then leave me hanging — has he changed his code or something?”

“I just hit the wrong button. There, see?”

“Cause I’m not looking forward to explaining this to the cops. ‘No, officer, we’re just breaking into his house to seduce him with wine and roses.’ That’ll go over well.”

“There are no cops, Chris. Let me see the bag.”

“Hold this, carry this — what am I, your gofer? We should have brought Joey along, he’s good at carrying things.”

“You want to share naked Lance with Joey?”

“Ah. No, never mind. Anything else you want held anywhere? I’m good at holding things. Does this need holding?”

Later, Chris.”

* * *

“Should the first one go outside or inside, do you think?”

“Hmm — outside says you’re stalking him, inside says you’re stalking him and have the code to his house. What are you going for here?”

“I was hoping for ‘not a stalker’.”

“Babe, I think we passed that point a while ago. What worries me is where you come up with these ideas. I mean, is there a daily creeper email you can sign up to get or something?”

“Sometimes things just come to me.”

“See, that’s the part that’s even scarier. Have you been watching Justin’s videos?”

“I saw that one, with the — thing, but — why?”

“Never mind.”

* * *

“Aromas of strawberry ice-cream — C, is this meant to be wine or dessert?”

“Why are you reading the back of the bottle?”

“Because it’s hilarious, that’s why. Hey, it’s packed with ripe strawberries and raspberries. I’m not seeing any in there. You?”

“Just put it down, you idiot.”

“Shh, you love my idiot. Rosewater and fairy floss? C, are you giving Lance a thong in a bottle? Oh, and it has a fruity refreshing finish. Well, it’s fruity all right.”

“Chris.”

“Kidding, kidding. Where do you find these things?”

“You know, just — around.”

“That was … about the least reassuring answer I’ve gotten from you so far. Are the Mafia going to come looking for their pink wine?”

“...”

“What?”

“You know, it’s sweet how you keep saying I’m the weird one.”

“What? You are.”

“Mm-hmm. Give me back the bottle.”

“Baby, I’ll bring you roses…. Or should I put it on the step below?”

“He’s probably just going to step on it.”

“The thought counts. Come on, last one to the bedroom’s a rotten egg!”

* * *

“I think I’ve found a flaw in your plan. You brought all of this wine for bait, and none to drink.”

“I — you’re right.”

“We could open this one.”

“Don’t you dare. It’s essential to the plan.”

“Pfft. Plan, my ass.”

“Your ass is also essential to the plan.”

* * *

“Hey, C, does this look okay?”

“It’s a case of beer on his pillow, Chris, there’s not much you can do about how it looks.”

“Presentation is important! You know that. Which is why I have beer and you have — is that a bud vase? Seriously?”

“It’s for — never mind. Why are you putting daisies on his bed?”

“Well, roses are symbolic, right? Of love and stuff?”

“…Yeah.”

“So, the daisies symbolize how I am a man who understands the important things in life and can play to my strengths.”

“Chris, you picked them out of your lawn. They’re weeds.”

“Like I said.”

“Daisies and roses don’t go together. You can’t put them in the same vase.”

“C, if any of these flowers make it into a vase, I’m gonna be the most surprised one in the room. Are we done? I was promised nakedness and a Jacuzzi.”

“Yeah, yeah, just lemme finish with this.”

“Careful, last thing you want is for him to step on that and end up in the ER instead of in bed. That’s really not the right message.”

“Well, move so I can put it where you’re standing, then.”

“Just trying to offer some constructive criticism, and this is the thanks I get? I should leave you to it.”

“You gonna actually help, Chris?”

“I am helping! I brought my hotass self, didn’t I?”

“Do you really think the bud vase is too much?”

“C, I hate to break it to you, but we started at ‘too much,’ and we’ve been going up from there.”

“… You really think so?”

“I think it’s you, C. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

...

“Hey, careful, careful, don’t step on the damn vase before he even sees it!”

* * *

“What, no roses to float in the Jacuzzi?”

“I thought it might be overkill.”

“Oh, surely not.”

“Don’t call me Shirley.”

* * *

"If someone's let Timberlake in here, I'm going to kill him."

“See, this is what I was talking about with the stalking.”

“We’re not stalking him, Chris.”

“Wait, does he mean he’ll kill J, or he’ll kill whoever let him in?”

“Justin’s not here, it’s kind of irrelevant.”

“We could call him. He could serenade us from the bottom of the stairs.”

“…Damn you for making me think of that.”

You’re a good girl — agh! You'll never take me alive! Death before dishonor!”

“…Guys?”

"Oh, hey, baby. I brought you a present."

"You lying liar! You told me this was a present for me!"

“Hush, Chris.”

“I’m feeling regifted — ooh.”

"Well, Lance?"

"For me? You shouldn't have."