"What happened?"
After a night of Senseless of Fucking, Martin strolled downstairs looking refreshed and energetic, heading to the dining room on the first floor for breakfast.
As for Alexandra Daddario and Jessica Alba—those two stunning beauties—they were still collapsed in bed with jizz still leaking in their holes.
Then Martin caught sight of that bit-part actor who played a repairman... Uh, what was his name again? Mark Warren?
This guy was holding a boiled egg and pressing it against Chris Pratt's forehead like a hot compress.
Hearing Martin's question, both of them turned their heads, their faces awkward to the extreme.
Meanwhile, two or three crew members nearby were eating breakfast, barely holding back their laughter.
Chris Pratt quickly stood up from his chair and greeted him respectfully, "Good morning, Martin."
Mark Warren also snapped to attention and quickly followed with, "Good morning, Mr. Meyers."
He hadn't had many scenes with Martin and thus lacked the familiarity to call him by his first name.
Martin gave Mark Warren a brief nod and replied evenly, "Morning."
Then he looked at Chris Pratt's dark eye circles with a smirk. "What the hell happened to you? Got into a fight last night?"
Pfft! Lorna Scott, who played the role of Janice, nearly spit out her bread.
Clearly, Chris Pratt or Mark Warren had just shared their tale of woe.
Chris, far from hiding it, saw this as a great opportunity to bond with Martin and launched into a vivid retelling.
As it turned out, after filming wrapped last night, he and Mark Warren had gone out drinking.
They chatted while downing beers until just before dawn, and only then decided to return to their hotel to rest.
And then—something utterly unexpected happened.
Just as they were about to get up and leave, two heavily made-up, alluring women suddenly sat down at their table.
"Care for a drink?" one of the blondes asked.
Chris and Mark, naturally, had no objections.
They ordered beers for the two women.
With alcohol in their systems and the women clearly turning on the charm, both men quickly fell under their spell.
Eventually, they each brought one woman back to their own rooms.
But then, when Chris's blonde guest started undressing…
To his horror, he discovered—she had a Dick down there.
"What the fuck?" Martin almost spat out his milk in laughter.
"And then?" he asked, curious.
"Well, I told that damn tranny to get lost," Chris said. "But the bastard had the nerve to demand money from me, said he wouldn't leave unless I paid up."
"I got pissed, tried to throw the guy out myself, but—"
Chris rubbed his forehead, his expression awkward. "Turns out he was stronger than me. Pinned me to the ground and beat the crap out of me. Then he took my wallet and ran."
"Fuck!" he cursed again in frustration.
Martin could barely hold it in.
Scratch that—he didn't hold it in. He laughed out loud.
Even the other crew members, who had clearly already heard this once, burst into renewed laughter.
Konstantin Khabensky, who played "The Disinfectant," chimed in, "No wonder I heard fighting noises next door last night. I thought you were in a wild battle with some hot chick—but turns out it was a wild beatdown from a tranny. Wait, not even a battle. You got wrecked. HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Martin was still chuckling when something struck him.
He turned to Mark Warren. "Wait a minute. If Chris ran into a tranny, then the one who went with you should've been a tranny too, right? Why are you fine?"
"Yeah!" Chris snapped his fingers. "You also brought someone back, didn't you?"
If Chris's date was a tranny, then logically, Mark's should've been too. So why hadn't he said anything about his night?
Suddenly, Chris's eyes widened. He pointed at Mark, stunned. "No way. No way! Don't tell me—?"
The others all looked at Mark, their expressions turning weird.
Mark quickly waved his hands. "No, no, no! That was a woman, a real woman! Not a tranny!"
Chris rubbed his chin skeptically. "I don't buy it."
"he—she was really a woman!"
"Wait, why did you say he just now? Goddamn it, did you actually do it with that tranny?"
"Fuck, I misspoke! I swear I didn't! I'll swear to God if you want!"
He raised a hand, about to take an oath—
Just then, the hotel restaurant's door burst open. A group of people marched in. At the front were two "women"—one with long, golden-blonde hair, the other with frizzy curls.
Before anyone could react, the blonde stormed up and pointed at Chris Pratt.
"It's him! He's the one who hit me last night!"
The frizzy-haired one, meanwhile, ran up to Mark Warren with a flirty smile. "Hey, fancy seeing you again. You were amazing last night."
The lighting in the restaurant was excellent.
Everyone nearby could clearly see the stubble shadow on the frizzy-haired "woman's" upper lip—and an Adam's apple on her neck.
Swoosh!
All eyes turned simultaneously toward Mark Warren.
He froze, hand still raised in mid-air, speechless.
On the other side, the argument flared up again.
"Fuck, you hit me, and you stole my wallet!" the blonde yelled.
Everyone suddenly remembered that this whole wallet theft thing hadn't been resolved yet.
All eyes swiveled back to Chris Pratt.
The poor guy stomped in righteous fury, pointing at his own black eye as he shouted at the blonde.
"Fuck off! I didn't hit you! You attacked me, and I fought back! You broke-ass psycho—there wasn't a damn cent in your purse! Fuck you!"
"Fuck you! I spent all my money buying you drinks! My passport's still in that wallet—give it back!"
"Fuck off! I only drank one beer! You broke bitch! Want your passport? Fine—500 bucks!"
"Why don't you just rob me?!"
"Then say goodbye to your precious passport!"
The blonde's voice had started off with a feminine lilt, but as the fight escalated, her voice dropped and boomed with raw aggression.
Even her hand gestures carried a certain masculine authority.
Everyone glanced sympathetically at Chris Pratt. No wonder he lost the fight.
Then, from the group that came in with the "ladies," a man who looked like a mafia boss stepped forward and spoke.
"Listen, kid. Just give her the money. Settle this. Or it's not just your passport you'll be losing."
Martin frowned deeply.