The Hangover: Part III

Walking into the lobby of the Plaza Hotel was a humbling experience. Alan led the other three, holding a soft pretzel that he must've bought from a cart on the side of the road somewhere between Times Square and the hotel. Phil sauntered in next, letting Sam slide down his back so she could walk the rest of the way; the hotel floors were safe for her bare feet. Stu just staggered forward, bringing up the rear, catching the questioning glances of the other hotel guests checking in, walking out or just standing there doing whatever it was they were doing. As they passed the check-in area and started toward the direction of the bay of private elevators, one of the desk clerk's, the same female who had checked them in the night before, came scurrying over to them with a few small pieces of paper in her hand.

"Excuse me," she called out, catching their attention. They turned to face her. "A few messages were left for you while you were out."

"We got messages?" Stu repeated, confused, as Phil took the pieces of paper from her.

They all looked over Phil's shoulder as he inspected the first note. "One is from Anthony, the security guy. It says: Watched more footage. The blonde girl that came back with you, left again an hour later. Couldn't call, lost your number."

"What do the other messages say?" Sam asked, snatching the one about her sister out of Phil's hand.

"I want my bird back."

"Who's the message from?"

"Billy?" Phil replied in question form. "Who the fuck is Billy?"

"There's one more message, what's it say?" Stu pestered.

"I know you're staying at the Plaza. If I don't get my wife's ring back by tomorrow morning I'm gonna slit your little friend's throat. Bring the ring to the 86th floor Observatory Deck of the Empire State Building by 9 AM. Not a minute later. No cops."

Stu immediately began to freak. "Omigod, someone has Doug! They're gonna slit his throat!"

Phil glared at Stu. "Shut up," he hissed. "You can freak out when we're upstairs in our suite and not in the middle of the lobby."

"How can someone have Doug if he called you earlier?" Sam was confused. She was leading the way to their elevator and pressed the 'up' button. "You said he mentioned a phone dying."

Phil frowned. "I heard him saying the words 'phone' and 'dying' but I don't know that he meant the phone he was talking on was dying. I only hope that's what he'd meant."

"Well, if someone has him maybe they tried getting a hold of us to set up a rendezvous and put Doug on, but the reception was so bad we couldn't make out the real message."

As soon as they were able to step into the elevator, and once the doors were closed and they were heading upward, Stu immediately screamed. It was like a volcano erupting lava all over, a pressure within needing to explode. His whole body shook as he bounced in place as if he really had to pee; the same way he did when they lost his teenage brother-in-law Teddy in Bangkok and they'd all thought Chow had overdosed or when Phil was shot by the Russian drug dealers. His movements caused the elevator to jerk a bit.

"Doug's gonna get killed because you stole some bad guy's wife's ring and gave it to Sam! You did this!" Stu pointed at Phil, flashing crazy eyes.

"Chill out, Stu!" Phil shouted back. "We'll go upstairs and find the ring and meet up with whoever it is at the Empire State Building tomorrow morning." When Stu didn't seem anywhere near backing down, Phil gave him a gentle shove to keep him out of his personal space. "The pieces are falling into place. Doug will be fine."

Stu, pissed off, shoved Phil back.

"Stop fighting!" Alan whined. "We're supposed to be best friends!"

The elevator lurched with the jerky movement of Stu and Phil starting to slap fight each other, so Sam stepped between them, pressing her back to Stu's chest and pushing him back against one side of the elevator wall. She lifted her right leg and pressed it into Phil's gut to hold him at a distance. "Both of you chill the fuck out or I will castrate you both, here and now."

Stu and Phil backed off and took in steadying breaths, glaring at each other. Phil grabbed Sam's foot and pushed it down off him.

"We still have to find out who Billy is and how to get his macaw back to him," Sam continued. "Not to mention find my sister. So let's get to the suite, turn that fucking place even more upside down than it already is and find that goddamn, fucking ring and put our heads together. Alright?"

All three men stared down at the firecracker that was Sam, each not able to help but admire how she laid the law with them. Just as the elevator doors dinged and slid open, Phil caught her eye; his heart racing from the adrenaline of arguing with Stu, the worry about Doug's predicament and his rapidly increasing, sexual attraction to Sam. As she looked up at him, her chest puffed to steady her own breathing. Being tossed into this kind of mess with all this testosterone was doing a number on her.

Before any of them realized what was going on, Phil stepped forward and grabbed Sam with his hands on the sides of her face and crushed his lips down upon hers. Her hands were snaking up around his neck, her fingers tangling within his hair. The liplock was fierce and like a duel, one trying to best the other with who could kiss better. Quickly, Phil backed her out of the elevator and dropped his hands from her face to reach down and lift her up into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist.

A moment later, the double doors into the suite's first foyer burst open. Phil and Sam were heavily going at it, with him carrying her further into the suite. Alan and Stu followed slowly behind them; Alan giggling like a child catching his parents kissing, while Stu staggered inside, possibly in a state of shock. He looked over his shoulder as if someone else was going to enter and explain what the hell just happened.

Continuing from foyer to foyer, Phil winced a little as Sam bit down on his bottom lip, but immediately smiled against her mouth as they barreled into the master bedroom. Phil kicked the doors shut with the heel of his foot, turning to lock the door with his hand. He finally set Sam down to her feet and began to pulled his shirt off, throwing it somewhere to his left. His lips fell back to hers as she walked backwards toward the bed. Gracefully, he picked her up at her waist and threw her down onto the mattress, stalking up toward her like a bird of prey. As she pulled the dress up over her head, Phil climbed, shirtless, up onto the bed, smirking down at the sight of her in nothing but her bra and panties. Leaning down, he buried his face into the crook of her neck as Sam hooked her feet into the waistband of his pants, trying to shimmy them down off his hips.

All the while, they were smiling and laughing in between kisses and touches here, there and everywhere.



Alan and Stu were sitting on the ripped up sofa in the living room, just staring off at nothing in particular when they heard the sound of something heavy falling to the floor. The sound wafted from around the corner in the direction of the master bedroom. Stu jumped slightly, his eyes moving to the right then back ahead of him as he raised his eyebrows.

"I think they're having sex," Alan commented; a little amused, a little perplexed.

Stu turned his attention to the beardless man. "Really? What gave you that idea?"

"Well, they were making out and now they're in the bedroom. And they're very loud."

Stu just rolled his eyes. "We don't have time for this," he remarked, standing up. "Alan, start looking for that ring."

"Shouldn't we wait till they're done and then we can all look together?"

"Alan, just look." Stu walked over toward the dining room and crouched down under the table, pushing the red paint-stained teddy bear head out of the way, looking on the floor. He began to crawl around on his hands and knees all over the dining room while Alan stood up and turned around, pulling up the seat cushions to the sofa.

"Ooh!"

Stu stood up and looked over at Alan. "What? Did you find the ring already?"

"No," Alan replied, holding up an unopened bag of Skittles and smiling. "Jackpot."

"Focus, Alan." Stu shook his head and returned to looking for the ring.



"Wow."

Phil was laying on the bed, the only thing he wore was the bed sheet he had draped over his waist. The hair on his chest was matted down by a sheen of sweat upon it, glistening in the dark from the city lights and full moon shining in from outside the bedroom windows. The lights weren't on in the room because Phil and Sam hadn't bothered to turn any on. He had his left hand resting under his head while his right hand played with the strands of Sam's auburn locks as she laid sideways on the bed; her head on his stomach. She had the other part of the bed sheet draped over her body, covering her bits and pieces. She was holding the sheet to her chest with her left hand, her right snaked around his left leg.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, her eyelids heavy from overall exhaustion and her current contentment. "That was―"

"I know," Phil interjected, understanding what she was trying to say. "We were, like―"

"Definitely."

Sam turned her head to the left to look up at him as he looked down at her, the two of them smirking and letting out a laugh. Phil sat up and pulled her up as well, both still managing to keep covered by the bed sheet. Removing his hand from her mess of hair, he trailed his fingers down her spine until he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her up against him. He cupped her face with his left hand and kissed her. This time the kiss was soft and sweet.

He inhaled. "We need to find that ring. Doug, bad guys...your sister." His train of thought was choppy; the temptation to just ignore what they needed to do clouded by what he wanted to do.

"Right," Sam nodded, pulling her lips from his. She began to scoot off the bed, wrapping the sheet around her, pulling it off him in the process. "The ring."

Phil followed her with his eyes as she crouched down, picking her bra, panties and her sister's pink dress up off the floor. She sauntered over to the walk-in closet and through toward the bathroom to change. Phil did the same, walking over to a chair in the corner where his boxer briefs were resting. Pulling them on, he found his pants and shirt, getting dressed again, and as he did so, his mind began to reel over how honestly content he felt. Not about the situation with Doug and Amanda and the insanity this weekend was bringing them, but with Sam. She was just fucking amazing. In more ways than one.

Casting his eyes downward, he spotted something colorful on the floor, sticking out from underneath the dresser. Crouching down, he peered at it, pulling it out toward him. It looked to be a small piece of paper that had squares with perforated edges within it; several of the squares missing. Phil narrowed his gaze, making out Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse on a few of the squares that were all different colors; bright green, fuschia, yellow.

Then it hit him.

Phil began to remember something from the night before, from when he got up at one point after the toast at dinner to go to the bathroom. There'd been a guy in the bathroom he was talking to...

Phil's eyes went wide as if he'd just seen a ghost. Standing upright he placed a hand to his mouth; his other hand holding onto the paper pieces. "Oh, fuck."

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, exiting into the bedroom, dressed again in what she'd had on before.

"Fuck," he repeated, ignoring her question and heading toward the bedroom doors.

"Phil," she called after him as they both walked to the living room.

As Alan and Stu looked over at the pair, Phil held the paper pieces up for them to see. "We took LSD last night."

Stu furrowed his brow. "What?"

Phil stepped closer to Stu and placed the paper pieces in his friend's hand. "This is LSD paper. I remember it from last night. We all had at least one piece each."

Stu looked down at the thin paper, divided into decorative pieces with cartoon characters on them. "We took LSD?" he repeated Phil's statement. Off Phil's nod, he turned his attention to Alan and glared. "You gave us LSD, Alan? I knew you drugged us! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Alan scoffed, offended. "I didn't do it, I swear! I mean, I don't think I did. I don't remember buying any drugs." Alan began to doubt himself. "Oh, no! I swore on Joe Jonas' immortal soul! I've damned him to hell!" As he began to whimper, Phil walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You didn't do anything, Alan."

"I didn't?" he questioned, still unsure.

"No," Phil insisted. "I did it."

Everyone looked at Phil as if they misheard him.

"Wait, what?" Sam stepped closer.

"I remember now," he began. "After we toasted at dinner, I went to the bathroom. There was this guy in there and I was in such a good mood and wanted to be in an even better one. I was looking for pot, actually. He looked like he might know where to score some. But he said he had something better." Phil caught Stu's glowering stare. "I didn't mean for us to get so fucked up and for all this to happen. The guy handed me this paper, said one piece would give a good trip. I gave him a fifty and he gave me this."

Sam looked confused. "I don't remember taking any."

"You..." Stu began, clenching his jaw. "After all the shit we'd been through with Alan drugging us in the past, what made you decide to do the same? Are you fucking retarded?"

"I didn't know the effect was going to be that strong."

"Have you ever taken LSD before, Phil?" Stu growled. "It's hallucinogenic. It makes you see and feel crazy shit. It can last twelve hours!"

"I know that now."

"So," Alan interrupted. "I didn't drug us?"

"No, Alan. This time Phil fucked us over because this weekend he needed to get obliterated and take us down with him like a fucking selfish bastard, and now," Stu rattled angrily. "Doug is gonna be murdered because we can't find some damned ring he stole while tripping on fucking LSD!"

"He couldn't have forced us to take it," Sam piped up in Phil's defense. "And we would've seen him trying to drop a square into our drinks. He would have had to broken the pieces off to give it to us. We must've done it willingly."

"Of course you'll stick up for him," Stu sniggered. "He just fucked your brains out."

Without warning, Sam slapped Stu very hard across his face and he took a few wavering steps backward. He hadn't been expecting Sam to hit him. Phil, maybe, but not Sam. He hadn't meant to insult her in any way, he was just so damned pissed.

"I'm sticking up for him because he didn't force our hand. He didn't shove the shit down our throats," Sam explained, angrily. "We would've knowingly taken it. We just forgot about it."

"We'll have flashbacks to last night eventually." Alan looked at the others. "It used to happen to me after I'd take ecstacy. I'd remember things a few days or weeks later at random times." He laughed at himself. "Like this one time when I shot my neighbor's cat..."

Stu looked at Alan. "You are fucking so weird."

"You're vulgar."

At that moment, the scarlet macaw practically nosedived from the chandelier barely hanging from the ceiling and went right for Stu. It's talons gripping onto the top of his head as it bent its body forward to peck angrily at Stu's temple. Stu immediately jumped and began to scream like a girl, scared by the sudden swooping attack. The others jumped back in surprise while the macaw's wings flapped wildly.

"Omigod! Why does it keep attacking me?" Stu screeched.

Blood was appearing a Stu's temple, tricking down a couple drops at a time. Phil lunged forward to shove the bird off his friend, and was successful until it flew at him instead. Phil ducked and swatted at the bird, causing it to change directions. Sam whistled at it, stretching her arm out for it to perch as it had that morning. This time, however, it was too riled up and landed on her shoulder, pecking at her head. Sam let out a yelp and tried swatting at the macaw.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" she cried.

Alan and Phil both went to Sam's aid; Phil with his bare hands, Alan with one of the dozens of dildos that were still stuck to the wall beside the grand piano. Alan was the successful one. He hit the macaw in the side with the dildo, it cawed in pain or surprise and released its grip from Sam's shoulder and flew upward to perch on the chandelier once more.

"Fucking bird!" Stu growled. He grabbed the dildo from Alan's hands and threw it at the macaw.

He missed the macaw but made contact with the chandelier. The hit was just what the chandelier needed to finally cause it to fall. The wiring holding it up, snapped, and the entire fixture came crashing down onto one of the two coffee tables, shattering the glass with a resounding cacophony of sound.

All four jumped at the noise, while ducking as the macaw flew over their heads and in the direction of one of the extra bedrooms.

Phil turned and looked at Stu. "I can't believe these words are about to escape my mouth, but did you just throw a dildo at a bird?"

"Yes," Stu nodded assertively, holding a hand to the side of his head. "Yes, I did."