Apparently Bolt was Tom-Tom’s new exec prod. Supposedly he had all these connects, people who owed him favors and such. Rikki said Tom-Tom told him Bolt arranged for a crew to come next week & shoot footage of house hijinks. Tom-Tom wanted them to film for 3 days — the more footage she got, the better the pilot would be — she was putting together what they called a presentation reel but said she’d be happier if she could complete a 22-minute pilot. Do you think the camera crew’s gunna do it for FREE, Reeyonna? You know what nobody seems to be fucking cognizant of? Nobody is cognizant of the fact that NO ONE BUT ME is even supposed to fucking be STAYING here, which is what I promised Cherokee. I don’t BREAK PROMISES, I keep my WORD, I WILL make it up to her, that’s between ME AND CHEROKEE, that’s PERSONAL BUSINESS. But I need you to be COGNIZANT that if you’re NOT PAYING RENT then TECHNICALLY you are just a SQUATTER here & you can just go SQUAT & leak yr PEE someplace ELSE. Fuckin cloggin up the frickin TOILET with yr freakin NAPKINS. DON’T TELL ME YOU’RE NOT, YOU ARE! YOU ARE! I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU SAY, I KNOW THAT YOU ARE! YOU’RE FUCKIN CLOGGING THE TOILET & YOU’RE GOING TO PAY FOR THAT PLUMBER VISIT TOO, $349!. . you should just MOVE BACK TO RIKKI’S, he told me his parents have been asking you to do that, well that’s EXACTLY what you’re gunna have to frickin do if you don’t come up with no fuckin SKRILL. And don’t start CRYIN and shit, OK? Cause I don’t have any SYMPATHY. As Bolt likes to say, All god’s children don’t get free lunch no more, due to BUDGET CUTS. Hahahahaha.
When Ree snidely asked how much rent Bolt was paying, Tom-Tom exploded. He isn’t paying ANY, bitch, because if it weren’t for HIM there would be NO FUCKING PILOT OR CAMERA CREW & if you give me anymore SHIT I’ll throw you & that frickin TUMOR you’re growing in your ASS on the frickin STREET. Understand? (ReeRee had to nod and keep her head down, had to sit & take it because she didn’t have a plan.) Motherfuckin nigger wannabe wants to tell me my BUSINESS. 16 & pregnant & she’s all up in my BUSINESS, ain’t THAT a bitch. You better keep a LEASH on her Rikki! You better keep a leash on that fat bitch cause I SWEAR I am gunna go OFF. (back to Ree:) & you DO NOT want to see that, no you DON’T. Because you couldn’t HANDLE it. Little Miss Wiggermuffett wants to sit there on her fat leaky TUFFETT on MY bed in MY house & tell ME my BUSINESS. ‘Yeah ahm the best to ever DO IT bitch, & you the best at never doin SHIT.’ Eatin my FOOD, doin my DOPE—don’t tell me you AINT motherfucker I KNOW you been doin my dope, don’t you think I KNOW that? Ain nobody else like to eat ROXIES like you do too, not even you’re brother. That’s YOU. You like eatin Roxies almost as much as you like eatin fucking ENTEMANN’S FUDGE CAKE y’fat BITCH, fuckin POSER, ‘Reeyonna,’ you WISH you LOOKED like Rihanna, too bad you gotta hairline like DRAKE. Fuckin Eddie MUNSTER. Anybody ever tell you you got a hairline like Drake? So FUCK y’all, I don’t wanna HEAR about it. I don’t wanna hear SHIT from you, Mama Cass. Just get me my MONEY & shut the fuck UP. Do you hear me? Hey! I’m talking to you—”
— (Rikki) Lighten up on her, Tom-Tom.
— I’m talkin to HER not YOU. I’m talkin to HER, not you, do you HEAR ME? (still to Rikki) Don’t just move your HEAD, bitch—
— Don’t be callin me no bitch.
— I’ll call you what I call you, this is MY house. When I’m in YOUR house, you can call me what YOU want to call me. Do you understand? Do you hear me?
— Yeah I hear you. But don’t be callin me a bitch.
— Get out of my face, boat ch’all. Go spread your elephant legs for my buoy here. Otherwise he tends to go ASTRAY. He’s the father of your child, ain he? Better throw him some pussy or he’ll go astray. Men are like that. How do you eat that bitch. Bitch so fat her pussy lips like goin down there & finding a steak pinned to her snatch. Hee HEE! Somebody liked to put a T-bone down there! Now get out of my face boat ch’all.
. .
“Hello?”
“Hello? Hi! May I speak to Chuck Aaron?”
“Who may I ask is calling?”
“My name is Reeyonna? I met him at the convention?”
“What convention was that.”
“The one for — the reality — the reality show convention.”
“Oh! Right. & may I ask the purpose of the call?”
“He said he was casting something? He was, uhm, he was looking for women who were pregnant?”
(The officious voice suddenly effusive)
“O hi! This is Chuck.”
“O — hi.”
“I remember you. You were worried I was from MTV.”
“Well, not really.”
“I’m so happy you called.”
“Are they still — are you still casting?”
“We’re always casting.”
“I mean for the pregnant—”
“Yes ma’m. What month are you?”
“I’m going into my 8th.”
“Well guess what, that actually sounds pretty perfect for what we need. Is that your real name? Rihanna?”
“I spell it different. I’m R-e-e-y-o-n-n-a.”
“You’re white, right?”
“White.”
“Right, because I remember. But for a second there I’m going, But she’s white… so I guess you’re president of Reeyonna’s fan club, huh.”