(answering doorbell) It's a nigga in a purple suit!
(Cristal hides as Robert walks to the door)
My name is A Pimp Named Slickback, and I believe I may have misplaced some merchandise at this residence. There she is. (to Cristal) Bitch I hope you got the moneys to cover this little vacation you've been takin'.
No, that's "A Pimp Named Slickback."
That's what I said - "Slickback."
No no!, It's "A Pimp Named Slickback," like A Tribe Called Quest, you say the whole thing: "A Pimp Named Slickback"!
Can we call you "Slickback" for short?
No, nigga! I'm "A Pimp Named Slickback!"
Cristal, who is this person?
NIGGA ARE YOU DEAF? I'm "A Pimp Named Slickback"! Say it with me now!
Y-y-your pimp? So you really are a, a-
CHCristal/Huey/Riley
Yes, I'm/she's a ho!
A Pimp Named Slickback, can at least have a minute?
A minute?! (short chuckle in disbelief) Let us pray the pimp's prayer. (church organ playing) Lord, please pray for the soul of this bitch and guide my pimp hand and make it strooong Lord! So that she might learn a ho's place. Amen!
(A Pimp Named Slickback then draws his hand back to strike her, but Granddad's belt lashes out and catches his wrist.)
You ain't gonna hit no woman in my house!
What woman, sir? This here's a ho!
Not in this house, she's not!
[A Pimp Named Slickback looks at Robert, surprised but impressed]
Damn! Indiana Jones. I didn't know we were still whoopin', nigga. Fine. [points to Cristal as he walks out] Bitch, you got 45 seconds, then I'm leavin'. [holds up a hand, counting off] Forty-four, forty-three...
(Two young black men bump into each other walking down the street)
G1Guy 1
Watch where you walkin' nigga.
G2Guy 2
Ey, what you say, nigga?
(Narrating) Watch closely. You're about to experience a "nigga moment." Webster defines the "nigga moment" as a moment where ignorance overwhelms the mind of an otherwise logical negro male...
(The men pull out guns and point them at each other)
G1Guy 1
What did you say, bitch nigga?
G2Guy 2
Hey squeeze it, nigga!
...Causing them to act in an illogical, self-destructive manner. I.E., like a nigga.
(The two men continue shouting at each other, then shoot at each other, missing every shot despite being right next to each other)
Nigga moments are unpredictable...
G2Guy 2
Hey wait man, wait! This is stupid!
G1Guy 1
Hey you right, dog. Look, let's put the guns away and go on about our business.
(Police officers shoot both men down)
...but they all end up bad. If they had their own category, nigga moments would be the third leading killer of black men behind pork chops and F.E.M.A.. It's a fact. Now let's see how a nigga moment affects a white man.
(One of the black men from the first example bumps into a white man)
WGWhite Guy
(muttering) Prick.
BGBlack Guy
Watch where you walking, bitch!
WGWhite Guy
What did you…wait a minute…haha, I'm white, hahahahaha! (he walks away)
BGBlack Guy
Where you going!? Don't you ignore me! This is a perfectly good moment to throw your life away!
A big misconception about the "nigga moment" is that it can be avoided by simply movin' away from niggas. If only it were that easy; see, niggas always got a new trick right around the corner.
...
Every nigga moment begins with the nigga. Without that key element, all you're left with is peace and quiet.
Who in the hell park at my space? That's like calling 1-800-collecting-ass-whuppin! And no, that ain't a toll free car, partner!
You hit my car, are you blind?
YES! BLIND! You got a problem with dat, nigga?
You could have kill somebody!
Well I been doing them a favor. Getting run over by me is close to honorable death as most of these people going get! Someday, I quite the humanitarian. I think I hit a wheelchair away over there. He-he!
Aw, look what you did to Dorthey? You better have insurance?
NIGGA, You better have insurance? Ass whupping insurance, you about to pay a depletable?
On the awkward car trip home, the song of "Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor (band) is playing on the radio.
RRadio
It's The Eye Of The Tiger / It's the thrill of The Fight! / Standing up to the challenge of your rival!
(Granddad switches off the radio)
(sourly) I hate this damn song.
I can't believe you got your ass kicked by a blind man, Granddad!
My knee went out. You know I got a bad knee.
Bad knee?! That nigga had bad eyes! He couldn't see, Granddad! He beat you like a piñata! (to Huey) Yo, we should rent Granddad out for Mexican birthday parties! We can call him "Sr. Piñata"! Hola, Sr. Piñata!
Stop it, boy, stop it! Where's my belt!?
I must be blind too, cuz I sho' didn't see that ass-whuppin' comin'!
Yo, how bad you gotta telegraph yo' punches for a blind nigga to see 'em comin', Granddad?!
Riley, the man obviously had a heightened sense of hearing!
Oh, I thought Granddad had a heightened sense of falling!
Now, that's enough! Now, you just stop laughin' at your Granddaddy! What's wrong with you?
Granddad had "HIT ME" written on his forehead in braille!
I said... That's. Enough.
Okay, What you gonna do? Beat me? Maybe I should get a blindfold first; (Riley covers his eyes with his hands) Okay, I'm ready! Wait-maybe he's gonna fall on me! (Riley gets on his knees and uses his left arm to cover his eyes and his right is pointed up at Granddad to push him off if he falls on him and Riley laughs)
(on the floor now, cringing from laughter) Granddad, Rodney King just called and said, "Damn! I thought I got my ass whupped!" (Riley laughs uncontrollably until Huey kicks him and Granddad walks off in shame)
(Tom has a nightmare where he drops the soap in prison)
?"Health Inspector"
Soap drop, nigga.
(Tom gasps)
?"Health Inspector"
Oh, you think you just gon' leave it down there?
?"Health Inspector"
Huh? We don't waste no muthafuckin' soap in here.
?"Health Inspector"
Naw. Naw, nigga. You ain't finish. I been watchin' you.
?"Health Inspector"
You ain't wash behind your ears or nothin'.
?"Health Inspector"
Now look at me. See how I'm all clean an' glistenin' an' shit? Dat's hygiene, nigga. You can call me the Health Inspector. Now PICK UP THE SOAP!
(A scared Tom wordlessly bends over to pick up the soap. The "Health Inspector" is standing directly behind him and starts to smile...)
OIOffscreen Inmates
Pray, baby. Pray!... I'm next!
DSDHS Spokesman
And so, we're raising the Terror Alert Level to intense orange-red based on very credible, detailed information on a non-specific threat. Could it be a hijacking? Absolutely possible. Chemical or biological agent? You bet it could happen. Suicide bomber? Hey, ya never know. But what we do know is that it's absolutely, positively gonna happen today, maybe.
(hysterical) Terrorists have my daddy!
Terrorists kidnapped my father and they're going to cut off his head in Algeria! My daddy was supposed to be home from work before school let out and he isn't here. And we're at terror alert level orange! Orange!!
Jazmine, just because your dad is late coming home from work doesn't mean that...
(Phone rings)
(answers the phone) Hello?
(frantic) Riley. Is that you? Put your brother on, it's an emergency.
(slight pause, Riley starts to laugh)
Don't drop the soap. (hangs up)
(the phone rings, and he answers it again) Yeah?
I thought you only get one phone call from jail.
(Huey grabs the phone)
Huey! I got arrested! They say I fit the description. I think it's 'cause I'm black Huey! You have to get me out of here Huey. You don't wanna know what they'll do to me in jail.
They'll rape you, that's what they're gonna do. But you're not in jail, you're in holding, and I don't think people usually get raped in holding; hold on. (yelling) Granddad, do people get raped in holding?
(Jazmine starts to cry)
Stop stop stop! I don't want your granddad to know. I don't want anybody to know. Listen. They can't keep people in holding over the weekend. At nine o'clock tonight, they're going to put me on a bus and send me to real jail. REAL! JAIL! Earliest I can get out would be on Monday.
Well it's just the weekend.
IT ONLY TAKES ONE NIGHT TO GET ANALLY RAPED! Huey, the only way for me to get out of here is if you find the real killer tonight.
The real killer?! Nigga, I'm 10! How am I gonna find the real killer?
Alright alright alright. Damn.
Thank yooou Huuey. Whatever you do, don't tell my baby Jazmine. I don't want her to know her daddy was somebody's biiittcch! (he starts weeping)
Was that Daddy? Where is he? Is he okay? Was he kidnapped by terrorists?
Umm... your father wants you to know he's nobodys' bitch.
Tom is being interviewed by police, using the good-cop/bad-cop shtick.
WCWhite cop
YOU LIAR! (slaps Tom) You killed him, didn't ya, ya sick bastard?!
The white cop tries to slap Tom again, but his black colleague stops him.
BCBlack cop
Hey, hey, hey! That's enough, go cool off! Now!
The white cop leaves the room, but then comes back and slaps Tom several times.
BCBlack cop
(pushing the white cop out) Get your ass out, move!
The black cop and Tom are now alone. Tom is weeping.
Why are you doing this to me?
BCBlack cop
Y'know what this is, man? It's fuckin' racism, man. You were at the wrong place at the wrong time, and you just happened to fit the description. (pushes a pen and some forms towards Tom) Now, if you admit that you killed him...
(indignant) I didn't kill anyone!
BCBlack cop
Look, even if you didn't kill him, just admit that you killed him. I promise you you won't go to jail. Smack on the wrist. I promise.
Wait, stop. You can't be serious. I'm a prosecutor, I'm never gonna fall for this!
Cut to a clock. Ten minutes pass.
(crying) So you're saying that if I confess, I w-won't go to jail?
BCBlack cop
I give you my word.
BCBlack cop
No anal rape.
Tom is still crying, but now has a goofy smile on his face
So y'all was in Iraq together?
We was looking for weapons of mass destruction.
....Did you ever find them?
You know goddamn well we ain't find 'em. What are you some kinda POLITICAL HUMORIST?! You GARRY TRUDEAU up in dis bitch?!?!
I was lookin' for bitches but they had that carpet shit all over them and I couldn't see what they look like. All that was really exposed was the eyes and that wasn't enough for me, cause you know shit I'm lookin' at the eyes, the eyes be pretty and I take the carpet off and then I got a tragedy.
But nah we ain't find 'em. but I always say the absence of evidence is not the evidence of absence.
Simply because you don't have evidence that something does exist does not mean that you have evidence that something doesn't exist.
"What" ain't no country I ever heard of. They speak english in "What"?
ENGLISH, MUTHAFUCKER!! DO YOU SPEAK IT!?
So you understand the words I'm sayin' to you.
Well what I'm sayin' is that there are known knowns and that there are known unknowns but there's also unknown unknowns. Things we don't know that we don't know.
SAY WHAT AGAIN! SAY WHAT AGAIN! I DARE YOU! I DOUBLE DARE YOU MUTHAFUCKER! SAY WHAT ONE MORE TIME!
(Rummy and Ed III watch Officer Frank closely as he and Ed III approach the counter.)
(to Ed) Watch my back, I got yo front.
(Rummy and Ed III place the cartons on the counter.)
CClerk
Hey Ed, Rummy my close friends and allies it is good to see you.
CClerk
Hey slow your roll chief. You guy have to pay for that first.
Damn! Chill out, Aladdin Hussein. You know I'm good for it.
CClerk
Hey guys you know the rules. No exceptions, cash only.
(Rummy and Ed look back at Officer Frank)
Look, he got a weapon! (pulls out his hand gun and points it at the clerk)
Whoa, wait a minute now, (points his M-16 at the clerk) Put the gun down.
CClerk
Gun? What gun? I'm not holding a gun. Guys, it's me. Ed, your father help me build this store.
I DON'T KNOW YOU MUTHAFUCKER! NOW, PUT DOWN THE WEAPON, PUT IT DOWN!!
CClerk
There is no weapon, look!
FOfficer Frank
(trembling nervously) I-- I don't see a weapon!
There is no weapon, they're robbing the store!
CClerk
I am not holding a weapon! I AM NOT HOLDING A WEAPON!
OFFICER, THIS MUTHAFUCKER GOT A GUN POINTED AT YOU!! YOU WANNA DIE!?
FOfficer Frank
I-I DON'T WANNA DIE!
HE DOES HAVE A GUN, TRUST ME!! THE ABSENCE OF EVIDENCE IS NOT THE EVIDENCE OF ABSENCE!!
FOfficer Frank
I-I DON'T SEE A GUN!
Man, fuck this shit! (points his gun at Officer Frank.) Whose side you on? Mine, or this muthafucker who's obviously of terrorist descent?
FOfficer Frank
Wait, I think I can see the gun now!
GOOD, NOW ALL SEE THE WEAPON!! NOW YOU HAND OVER THAT WEAPON ON THE COUNT OF THREE, OR I SWEAR TO ALL MIGHTY GOD, I'LL BLOW YOUR FUCKIN' HEAD OFF!! ONE!!
CClerk
I CAN'T GIVE YOU A WEAPON I'M NOT HOLDING!! YOU'RE THINKING OF THE KOREAN SHOP, NORTH OF HERE!
FOfficer Frank
Is he... still holding it!?
He-is-not-holding-a-weapon!
(narrating) I was so desperate for information on the shooting, I watched that show my brother calls "the news."
BEBlack Eyewitness Man
Oh shit! Aw, nigga, I seent it! I seent the whole thang, nigga, you shoulda seent that shit I saw...
Oh, great. Black Eyewitness Man. I hate Black Eyewitness Man!
BEBlack Eyewitness Man
... with my own eyes, nigga. Damn, that shit was crazy, nigga! I seen everything! [his cellphone rings, and he answers] Hold up. Nigga, that's me on TV, BABYYY!!! YEAH, NIGGA, YEAH! .... no I ain't got your money, nigga.
BEBlack Eyewitness Woman
[shrieks] JESUS!!! It was terrible! I was in the club- a- I was in the club, a-and this bitch stepped on my shoe, and I was like, "BITCH!" And then some nigga started shootin'. I was like "There he go! He done fucked it up for everybody!"
(narrating) So, what had happened was Gangstalicious was doing a show in town when three men rushed the stage and shot him. Ironically, he was doing his new joint "I Got Shot" at the time.
CCrowd
(repeating) I got shot!
(Three men rush the stage and shoot Gangstalicious.)
CCrowd
(still repeating) I got shot!
CCrowd
I got shot for real!
No goddammit, I got shot! Niggas shot me! I'm bleedin'! I'ma die! Somebody please, help me, help me... (he faints)
CCrowd
No goddammit, I got shot! Niggas shot me! (fades into mumbling)
Riley (narrating) It was 45 minutes before anyone called an ambulance.
(men are shooting at them) WE GONNA DIE!
Run nigga! (they run) Where's your gun?
Oh, yeah yeah! Ya'll niggas is in for it, now! (takes out his gun, shoots feebly three times, then drops the gun and runs)
(cut to parking lot)
We need a car. We gon' have to jack someone. Where's your gun?
What's done is done, let's be solution oriented. (looks around and then looks at Riley) You mad?
How you gonna drop the gun, Gangstalicious? That is NOT gangsta! That's VERY not gangsta! Man, I can't believe this. YOU A FRAUD!
Oh I'm a fraud? You scared too!
OKAY, FINE! FINE! WHATEVER! I'm a fraud, I'm a fraud. I'm just an average, normal dude. I DON'T WANNA DO THIS STUPID SHIT NO MORE!! I'm tired of gettin' shot. Help!
It's like going to heaven and finding God smokin' crack!
You want me to direct the Christmas play?
UMr. Uberwitz
Absolutely. I think you’ll do a fantastic job.
First of all, I don’t give a damn about Christmas.
UMr. Uberwitz
You don’t have to do a traditional Christmas play... no, you can do... whatever you want.
UMr. Uberwitz
Fired? For what?
For bein’ an irresponsible white person.
Mr. Uberwitz I would really love to see your vision.
Vision? What do you know about my vision? My vision would turn your world upside down, tear asunder your illusions and send the sanctuary of your own ignorance crashing down around you. Now ask yourself: are you really ready to see that vision?
UMr. Uberwitz
We’ll give you complete creative control.
(considers for a moment) I want it in writing.
Have y'all lost your damn minds? Opening night is less than two weeks away and y'all wanna party?
KKid
We're just having some fun.
Fun? Do I look like Charlie Brown?
Do I LOOK like Charlie Brown?!
You know what? All y'all are fired!
KKids
(collectively) What? Fired?
UMr. Uberwitz
Huey... but it's the entire cast. Are you sure that's a good idea?
(clears throat) Contract.
UMr. Uberwitz
(to the kids) I'm... sorry guys.
(The kids looks at Quincy Jones.)
QJQuincy Jones
Hey, don't be lookin' at me.
Don't look at Quincy Jones! Quincy Jones ain't gonna help you! Get ya' asses out! Now!
SSanta
Well hello, there. And what would you like Santa to bring you for Christmas?
GGirl
I want- uh, uh... Santa, you got a red dot on your head.
(diving in slow motion) Nooooooooo!
(Riley fires the gun)
(he blocks some of the bullets) Ow! Goddamn! That had to pierce a spleen or something.
(Santa uses girl to block bullets and girl screams in pain)
GGirl
Santa, why? You ruined my childhood!
You gonna pay what you owe, Santa! You gonna pay what you owe. Running like a bitch.
(talking on his radio, panting) Backup. I need backup. I'm fat. I can't run very fast. I think I'm having a heart attack and a couple of light strokes.
(aims carefully at Santa) Merry Christmas nigga. (gun clicks) Damn.
