Upon answering her phone, Agent Bryson heard, 'WHORE!', and felt confidant that it was Mother Nature calling back to inquire about the sexual Hare.
'Yeah, hold on', she said into the phone, then looked at Hubert and said through clenched teeth, 'Listen, you need to make nice with the bitch long enough to find out where she is so we can find Nick, can you do that?'
'Fine', he said, taking the phone.
The constant knocking on the door had snapped the last of her whisky-frayed nerves and upon finally whipping it open and losing her cool long enough to scream, 'WHO THE FU....', saw a sight that kept her from finishing her expletive.
'Oy!', stated the Hasidic Jew standing in front of the quartet. 'So the shiksa's a screamer!'
'Stop bein' rude, sucka!', screamed Mr. T, inexplicably standing alongside the curly-headed son of Abraham. 'Stop puttin' the 'ew' in Jew!'
'Buh', was all Christina could muster at this point.
'I'm Kwanzaa!', stated T, then pointing at his Jewish compadre explained, 'He's Channukah!'
“It's pronounced 'Channukuh'', stated Shlomo, curls all aquiver.
'SHUT UP, FOOL!', replied Mr. T. 'I'm tired of yo' jibber jabber! Always 'Torah' this and 'Menorah' that! It's just a candlestick holder, sucka! You put candles in it! You set them on fire! They make light!'
Christina slowly pointed a finger at the people behind Shlomo and muttered, 'Is that …'
'I AM GONNA FUCK SOMEONE UP!!!!', screeched a bare-chested, hat-wearing, nunchuck-wielding Abraham Lincoln.
'President's Day', Shlomo acknowledged. 'George had a thing so we had to unleash the Abe. And this,' he said pointing to his left, 'is the April Fool.'
'Hi!', yelled Dane Cook. 'I enjoy delicious sandwiches!'
'Natch', muttered Agent Bryson, who composed herself long enough to turn to a recently un-phoned Hubert and ask, 'Honest Abe is going to fuck someone up. What did the ice queen say?'
'She wants to meet me ASAP, so we need to figure this out', Hubert replied, rubbing his chin and driving Christine to the point of bliss as he innocently fondled his stubble in contemplation.
'Is she willing to trade Nick for you? Where does she want to meet? Abraham Lincoln? Seriously?', she asked.
'She says she's willing to give Nick up for my sweet lovin', but Mother Nature is fickle, so I doubt her sincerity', replied Hubert. 'She wants to meet in a public place, the location of which she'll call back and provide. And as previously stated: George was busy and Abe's a badass, so it was a no-brainer.'
'PEOPLE ARE GOING TO BLEED!', screeched our 16th president.
'We need to split up', Christina thought aloud. 'Attack her from multiple angles.'
'Right', Hubert muttered. 'Listen, you take Mr. T and ninja Abe. I'll manage Shlomo and the douchebag.'
'I put cashews on my Wiener!', screamed Dane Cook.
'We play the cards we're dealt', Hubert said to Christina, getting all philosophical on her ass. Just then, her phone buzzed with the ominous vibration of smug weather. She and Hubert looked at the phone, then looked at each other before spying Abe pacing back and forth and shaking his head very slowly.
'Oh, it's on, bitches', he muttered, then yelled, 'IT'S ON LIKE DONKEY KONG!!'