The Hangover, Part 3. (Phil Wenneck X OC).

Chapter 8.

The 5 spent the rest of the night coming up with the plan to get into the villa.

Once the night had passed and the sun had come out, Chow drove the van through Tijuana and towards the villa instead of Phil. Which he didn't necessarily enjoy but didn't want to start anything.

Brooklyn didn't see much of the ride, choosing to grab a small nap instead. Or try to, at least.

The more time passed, the more she started to believe that she was pregnant.

What the hell was going to happen if she was? How would she run a police precinct with a newborn baby? How would having a baby influence her life? How would she feel about being a mom? How is this going to affect the wedding?

How would Phil take the news if she was? Would he be happy? Would he be upset?

Brooklyn didn't know. She didn't know how to feel.

She was so deep in thought that she didn't even notice they were now at their destination.

Or rather on a hill just a couple hundred feet from it.

"That's some house, Chow," Phil commented, looking up at the large beautiful house.

"It was my Shangri-La. Now it's gone," Chow said sourly, and spat right on the dashboard.

Phil looked at his dash in disgust as Brooklyn facially expressed her annoyance, scoffing as she did so. "Could you not spit inside my minivan, please??" Phil angrily and rhetorically questioned, pulling his sleeve over his hand and wiping off Chow's saliva, looking at Chow in irritation. "Jesus."

"Who lives there now?" Alan asked, looking at the large house, his sunglasses in his hand instead of on his face.

"Some dot.com millionaire," Chow answered with a tone full of disgust and mockery. "He's never here. This is a vacation home," He went on to explain. "The help doesn't show up on Sundays. No one there but the guard dogs. Stu?" He then asked, requesting Stu's voice.

Stu was just finishing drugging a few cheeseburgers they'd gotten on the drive up with some Demerol when Chow finished his sentence. "We'll toss these burgers over the gate, wait for the Demerol to kick in," He said from behind Chow.

"Make sure you put in enough to kill them," Chow hissed, his teeth gritted as Brooklyn looked at him concerned.

"We're not killing anything, Chow," She stated firmly, her tone emphasizing that it wasn't up for debate.

"This'll knock 'em out for hours," Stu finished, looking between Phil and Brooklyn.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you worked for PETA," Chow spoke in a mocking like tone before turning to Phil. "What a couple of pussies."

Alan, like an idiot, laughed at Chow's comment, meanwhile Phil slowly took off his sunglasses with the most pissed off glare there could ever be.

Brooklyn followed in suit, so prepared to blow up on Chow before Phil did it for her. "Say anything like that about my wife again and we're taking you to Marshall without any of that fucking gold and a bullet so far down your throat it's in your lungs," He growled, making Chow look at him with the most uninterested expression ever before starting the van and driving towards the house.

Brooklyn couldn't help but smile behind Phil.

If she was being honest, his words turned her on a little bit as she tightly rubbed her legs together.

If she was pregnant, she would blame it on pregnancy hormones, but even if she wasn't, she'd probably still be turned on at her almost husband's protectiveness. (Don't judge, anyone with a pulse would agree with me 😂).