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About Tokyo

Now, here’s the tea: she takes him ‘round back, and I’m like, “Oh, Lawd, he’s done!” Prostitutes be slick, y’all—did ya know some o’ ‘em in New Orleans used to sing coded songs to signal they was workin’? True story! Joe don’t know that, he’s too busy pantin’. Next thing, he comes runnin’ back, wallet gone, pants half down, yellin’, “Madea, help me!” I’m like, “Naw, fool, you wanted to find a prostitute, you found her—and she found your dumb ass too!” Halleluyer! I’m dyin’ laughin’, but also hot as a skillet—why these men so stupid?

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Then, this kid walks in. He’s got a mohawk that’s taller than him. I’m like, “Whoa, dude! You’re rockin’ that!” He grins, and I can’t help but laugh. I start cuttin’, and he’s tellin’ me about his skateboarding tricks. I’m like, “Man, you’re gonna be a legend!”