Episode Details

'ACTION!'

Collection II - 'antithesis.'

Track 09. ‘ACTION!'

Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū

Previously on

(Whatever, I Give up. )

HALLE BERRY

is that how you spell it

It is for now. Fuck going online

“That ain't part of my day”

Shut up Drake, not now.

You'll thank me later

“If You're Reading This, It's Too Late”

[HALLE BERRY is taking A VERY PAINFUL SHIT, clutching her *favorite OSCAR award--

Which one's her favorite?

CUT TO:

BEFORE

HALLE BERRY looks over her OSCARS in the display cabinet, carefully scanning them, with a New York Times paper tucked under her left arm, sipping from the coffee cup in her right hand.]

—I like this guy.

The other OSCARS groan; they are often overlooked during this process.

Come on!

This guy!

AGAIN!?

UGH.

CUT BACK TO:

[HALLE BERRY clenches painfully, sweating audaciously—at the worst possible moment, her cellphone rings. ]

WHAT THE—COME ON

I THOUGHT I WAS IN AIRPLANE MODE.

(I just found out The Illuminati can still make calls go through in airplane mode

Or without cell service at all)

wtf my phone is ringing.

That's weird. You don't even—

—I don't even have a phone.

Right.

(Seriously, my phone is disconnected. I didn't even pay my bill.)

The fuck.

[it's JIMMY FALLON]

Damn. This dude has the worst possible timing ever.

Like fucking ever.

Always shows up at the worst

—THE WORST MOMENT.

[HALLE BERRY rejects the call. It rings again]

WHAT THE—

[She ignores the second call. A moment of subtly relaxed silence, until—

[JIMMY FALLON appears in the ceiling window of the bathroom. HALLE BERRY SCREAMS, still fluting her OSCAR.]

(Calmly, kind of)

Hey,

WHAT THE FUCK, JIMMY.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

I called first!

I KNOW THAT—

Went to voicemail.

YOU SHOULDN'T BE HERE.

Just—calm down.

NO.

Look.

GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!

I'm not in your house, I'm outside your house. Technically.

—yeah, but your FACE is in my house—

—I hear that's the best part.

—What?!

Listen—

Get out—

No, look, listen—

I need to borrow your Oscar.

What?! For what?!

That's not important.

Oh really?!

Yeah.

It seems important.

It's not that important

Just—-

What!

Give it to me!

[He snatches the OSCAR and tosses her his GRAMMY.]

Just—trade me.

What! What for?!

Just—trust me—

I do not—

Just trust me—!

WHAT!

Congratulations.

As you were.

Kind of.

WHAT—JIMMY—

[She realizes the ridiculousness of her calling after him. She sits awkwardly with the Grammy in her lap, sighing]

—he was my favorite…

[SUDDENLY, though the other window

Why does this bitch have so many windows in her bathroom that are this penetrate?

For the sake of the joke, but probably not something any celebrity should