"Babe! Where's my hot sausage?!" I growled from the kitchen. "In my pants, do you want it?" P said, walking into the kitchen. I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards me. "Look here, nigga. I told you that I do not play about my hot sausages. I do not want your dick right now. I want to eat my hot sausages so I can go to sleep. Understood? So what I suggest you do is find those motherfuckers and bring them to me or you won't have a penis. Got it?" He looked traumatized. I automatically felt bad and let go of him. I sat down on the floor and sobbed. "What the... Baby, why are you crying?"
"I- I don't know." I busted out crying. P just shook his head and picked me up, carrying me to the bedroom. "Lay down, I'll go find your hot sausages. Please don't break anything." I nodded and laid down as I waited for him to return with my snack. "Baby!" I yelled out as I got up and started putting on clothes. "What? What's wrong? Are you okay?" P said, sliding into the room with one heel on and a plastic bag in his hand with tongs.
"I want to go see Michael..." I whined. Prince frowned at me. "I ran up a flight of stairs and almost broke my neck because you want to go see Michael? Doesn't he live in California?"
"I'm sorry Skipperrr... And yes but I talked to Chilli the other day and she said that they'll be in New Orleans this week. Can we please go see him?" I gave him the puppy eyes and whimpered. "Sheesh. Okay. Do you still want your h-"
"YES, NIGGA!" He shook a bit when I yelled, with his dramatic ass. He rolled his eyes and went back downstairs. I couldn't find any of my shoes so I settled with a pair of his boots.
When he saw me, he shook his head. "Don't blame this pregnancy on your horrid choice of clothing. You wear a sweater, with khakis and... Are those my heels? Uh uh. Baby, really?" I shot him and innocent smile before taking my bag of hot sausages from him and walking out the door.
We drove to the hotel where Michael was staying at. It wasn't hard to find his window because it had a sign that said 'No One's Home :)' on it. "He's so extra," P said, shaking his head. I threw a few rocks at it before P joined in and helped.
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"I'm sorry to inform y'all but some rock stars do sleep, unlike you two." Michael said.
"What room are you in? We're coming up?" P asked."
"Ugh... 269." He closed the window and into the hotel we went. When we got to the room, it was cracked so we went in.
"It smells like sex and strawberries. Michael, who you got up in here? It surely ain't Lisa." I said. It was all dark and foggy. It was like some Smooth Criminal type of shit. "Oh no, Annie are you okay? Gotdamn, Michael. Were you talking about yourself the whole time? You run down, dirty-"
"Prince! Chill, baby. It's not that deep. He just got that good nani and he got the whole suite looking like a video shoot." I joked. Out of nowhere, I saw a body zoom across the room to the bathroom and shut it quickly. "What the fuck was that?" I asked, looking at the path this mysterious person just took to the bathroom. "Wait a minute, didn't you say Chilli was gon' be here with Michael?" P asked, stopping in his tracks. "Shit!" The person said from the bathroom. "Rozonda Ocelean Thomas and Michael Joseph Jackson, get y'all asses in here right now! Naked or not!" I yelled. Slowly but surely, they both came to where we were, looking like two caught kids. Chilli had nothing but a towel on and Michael only had on a... jockstrap. "You know what, I-I can't. I'll see y'all on Christmas. C'mon baby daddy." I said, dragging Prince out the hotel suite. I can safely say we were both utterly disgusted and scarred for life.
