(narrating) We all know that the images we see can elicit strong emotional reactions. But I've always wondered: could the images we see do more than hurt us emotionally? Is it possible to see something so bad it actually hurts you physically? In other words, can too much black television kill you?
EGExpert guy
(clears throat) The idea that too much black television can kill you is absolutely preposterous! I should know. I'm an expert. Can't you tell by my accent?
(narrating) Actually, in 1999, 21 year old Shaquoia Peterson died suddenly in the 13th hour of the 24-hour Parkers' Marathon on UPN. The exact cause of death was never determined. Shaquoia's family settled out of court for an undisclosed amount of money. UPN admitted no wrongdoing. I decided I would watch nothing but black people on TV for two weeks to see if I suffered from any adverse health effects. I started by getting a full physical at the health office.
DDoctor
Ah, your blood pressure is fine, which is unusual for black people, and your overall level of health is excellent.
(narrating) These were the rules: I was only allowed to watch TV with a majority of African American performers. Commercials included.
ATArt teacher
...and what the heck. Let's have some mountains and some clouds; oh, and of course some joyful little trees... right there. (turns to Riley) Isn't that beautiful? I love painting trees. What do you like to paint, Riley? Hehehheh, aside from your own name, of course.
I got in trouble 'cause a you. I thought it was yo' house.
ATArt teacher
It was my mistake. But you'll find I don't really believe in mistakes. I believe in "happy accidents." Because you got in trouble, your granddad hired me, and we are gonna have so much fun.
ATArt teacher
Well, Riley, I certainly don't want to keep you here if you don't want to. Your granddad wants to make sure I make you do just one drawing a day — then you can go.
I jus' gotta draw one thing?
ATArt teacher
Anything you want, heheh, have fun.
Cool. (he grabs a pencil and paper and draws something in seconds)
(walking away, sets the paper down next to the art teacher and heads toward the door)
ATArt teacher
(chuckles audibly)
(hearing chuckle, turns around) What?
ATArt teacher
Oh nothing, heheh... you're free to go.
ATArt teacher
Nothing, nothing at all. I'll call your granddad and tell him you're walking home.
(aggressively) I wudn't really trying, I could do better if I wanted.
ATArt teacher
(crumples up Riley's drawing) Oh I'm sure. (he throws it away)
(surprised, then angry) Hey! You ain't have to ball it up and throw it in the trash! You know what? That's disrespectful! Yo' mama shoulda raised you better. (he leaves)
ATArt teacher
(Continues to paint)
(returns and retrieves his crumpled-up drawing) I wudn't even really tryin'. (he leaves again)
MMan
Hey hey, Robert hey! I heard you was going to be delevering the eulogy. I think that mighty nice of you. I know you and Mo had some bad blood.
Well, what's in the past is in the past.
MMan
(Starts laughing) Yeah, I remember how Mo talk about how he couldn't stand yo black ass. Woo, ha! I remember it like it was last week. Matter of fact, I think it was last week.
MMan
Aw man, you should have heard him, Robert! He was on ah roll, heh! You was all kinds of bitches and motherfuckers! He was like Chappelle or something!
He called me a motherfucker last week?! He said that last week?!
MMan
Sho did, I think Tuesday. Bout 1:48 PM.
Well, ain't this a bitch?
MMan
And what surprised me, was you be all kinds motherfuckers really had nothing to do with tha damn conversation. What was we talking about? (Puts his hand on Granddad shoulder.) Soybeans. Whoo, you a bigger man than me. (Starts to walk away.) I don't think I can talk nice about somebody who said that kind of stuff bout me or my mama, hmp. I-am-not-the-one.
I can’t believe I let Mo talk me into this.
CAunt Cookie
Well, you already here. He said he left you something nice. You might as well go on and get it over with.
CAunt Cookie
Do you know what you gonna say?
CAunt Cookie
Well, don’t worry. Just read this (she presents a piece of paper to him). Mo wrote it. He thought you might have some trouble.
(steps to the podium, starts reading the paper) Everything I have in life I owe to Mo Jackson... (looks questioningly at Aunt Cookie)
CAunt Cookie
(urges him on)
(tentatively) I have never once been gay, but Mo was a very sexy man. We used to call him "Mo bitches"? I once saw Mo in his underwear? And it changed my life? I wish I had a father like Mo Jackson. Mo Jackson paid my rent over fifty times?! ... Okay this is bullshit!
AAudience
(collectively gasps)
Mo Jackson was a asshole.
AAudience
(collectively gasps again)
Mo Jackson was a petty, immature, selfish man. Oh, he was good at one thing: that’s bringin’ the worst out of everybody he met. I came up here because I thought Mo wanted to make things right. But it was just one more chance for him to make a fool out of me. (he walks off stage; people start murmuring amongst themselves)
MSMan Sitting At a Table
Yeah, that damn nigga owed me five dollars!
DDewey
(takes the microphone) Brothers, sisters… please. I think it’s time for a poem: Doom comes like a vacuum, ‘cause death sucks and smells like a raccoon or a baboon... Death kills us like crack killed Pooky... Like Schwarzenegger killed Tookie. Chewbacca was a wookie. Revolution.
[The audience sits in silent, stunned confusion.]
Booo... Hey! "Erykah BaDewey"! That was real gay, my nigga! Cut that out!
What’s wrong with you Cairo?! That nigga’s corny.
CCairo
Corny? Nigga, you’re corny. At least he’s here! Why don’t you follow your punk-ass granddaddy back to Whitesville? Fake nigga?
[Huey punches Cairo in the face and the two start fighting; Dewey looks nervously at Riley and flees from the podium]
[Chasing after him] Don't run, nigga, I see you!
So when do I get to see Sammy Davis, Jr. the Pony?
(acutely) When you learn how to run a respectable business.
What the hell is up with this sign? What's this crude drawing suppose to be?
I-it's the M-M-Magical Pony Carriage.
This looks like a kid drew it. Look at this, why are all the "e's" backwards?
I-I-It... It's suppose to be c-cute.
You think ignorance is cute? Well, I suppose you think you think mental retardation is down right adorable. Lemonade, now! (Jazmine starts to cry and tries to pour a glass) How is anyone supposed to believe you can make lemonade when you can't even spell it? How old are you?
(mocking her stuttering) T-T-T-Too damn old to be writing your "e's" backwards, damnit! (walks away, chuckles)
(speaking under his breath) Squirm little worm.
It's okay Jazmine; you don't need him.
(angrily) What do you mean I don't need him?
Well you're not gonna let him treat you like that?
What, you think ponies grow on trees?
What kind of question is that? It's a large four-legged mammal.
Or maybe I'm just supposed to wait until I'm an old woman before I get my pony. How am I gonna look, Huey? A sixty-five year old woman riding a pony...
You just want everyone to be miserable because you're miserable. AND WHY ARE YOU WEARING THAT STUPID COAT?.. wish you'd go away...
(pondering) Let's see... I want a... umm...
(cut to female customer)
FCFemale customer
(speaking quickly) I'll take two small lemonades with ice, two small lemonades without ice, three large lemonades — one with ice, one with no ice, one with crushed ice...
(cut back to Granddad)
You guys have aaummmmmm... uh... hmmm...
(cut to Riley)
(slaps some change on the counter) That's all I got.
That's all I got! Make it work, I'm thirsty!
I ain't got no dollar! It's hot as hell out here, man, jus hook me up! All the money I spend up in this place? This some ol' bullshit!
Lemonade... is... a... DOLLAR!
(cut back to Granddad)
Hmm... Do you guys have anything other than lemonade?
(stares annoyingly at him)
(cut to Huey)
Jazmine, this is stupid. You're bein' exploited.
You'll never get anywhere in this world without doing a fair day's work for a fair day's pay.
Jazmine, Ed's never gonna give you that pony!
(cut to Tom)
Peaches, I think it's time you come inside.
Can't talk, Dad, makin' lemonade.
Come on, honey, I want you inside now.
ACAnnoyed customer one
I have been waiting twenty minutes for this lemonade.
ACAnnoyed customer two
I'm thirsty!
(approaching Tom) What's the problem?
Mr. Wuncler, ya know, yesterday I thought this was cute, but, don't you think you guys are taking this a little far?
Jazmine can leave whenever she wants, but Sammy Davis, Jr. the Pony will have to be put down.
He's your pony now. Your percentage was supposed to pay for his food and upkeep. Now he'll starve to death in a puddle of his own feces.
(obligedly) Oh come on... Mr. Wuncler...
I don't wanna leave, Mr. Wuncler! Please, Daddy, don't make me leave!
(pulling Tom aside) There you have it. You know the name of the game; your daughter chose me. Now we can handle this like some gentlemen, or we can get into some old gangster shit.
(nervous, goes back to Jazmine) Okay, best of luck, honey! (he scurries away)
At this point we’re resorting to what I call “desperation tactics.”
(whispering) I’ve sent anonymous letters to the governor threatening to expose his gay lover.
SShabazz
I wasn’t aware the governor was gay…
He probably isn’t. But I figure ten percent of the population is gay, and probably about half of people cheat on their spouses; so I figure that plan has about a five percent chance of success. Better than nothing.
What? You always say I should have faith. Well that’s me having faith. Random anonymous blackmail...
Do you believe in God, Huey? I believe in God.
(interrupting) First of all, I'm gonna live forever, but if I do die I'm gonna smack God upside the head and go tell him to get me a grilled cheese sandwich and some tacos...
(to Huey) When I want something, or I'm afraid about something, I pray. Have you ever prayed?
(interrupting) ...And I dare God to say something. I be like, "Say somethin' God! Say somethin'! Yea I thought so..."
(to Huey) You should pray for Shabazz — God'll get him out of jail. They have to listen to Him... He's God.
(continuing)...And if God say somethin' I be like this. (he makes punching motions) Take that God. (Huey shakes his head) I be beatin' God's jaw like blikaa, blaa.
[Granddad looks at the menu and sees the extremely high prices for snacks.]
[He looks at the Receptionist.]
Large, freshly-popped popcorn, please, and lots of butter.
[The receptionist gives him his popcorn.]
RReceptionist
(uninterestedly) Anything else?
I asked for butter on it.
RReceptionist
Butter's over there.
[Cut to a very poorly maintained condiment station.]
I don't wanna put the butter on it. Why can't you do it?
RReceptionist
You're supposed to put the butter on it.
I don't wanna put the butter on it! I already paid twenty dollars for this bullshit popcorn. I will not demean myself by putting butter on popcorn!
RReceptionist
(still monotone) Why? It's really easy.
Why? Because I don't work at the movie theater! That's why!
RReceptionist
You're supposed to put the butter on it.
...If I go to Burger King, and order a cheeseburger, THEY DON'T MAKE ME PUT THE CHEESE ON IT, DO THEY GODDAMMIT!?
(leaving Huey and Jazmine at the movie theater after watching Soul Plane 2)
Heh, heh. That was great, Granddad. Boy I wish we could've seen the end of that movie.
I don't know. I feel bad for leaving Huey and what's-her-name.
They knew the risks, so they might do a little time. We'll see them when they get out.
Ahhh, it doesn't seem right. I'm going back and turning myself in.
Turn yourself?--man--Granddad, look, come on. I mean, I love Huey. almost like a brother, but what's done is done. We've got to let go of the past! If he don't come back, can I have his side of the room?
(Granddad walks away)
Ah, come on, Granddad! You supposed to be setting a better example!
What happened to the movie theater? Y'all should be ashamed! How come when I order a soda-pop, I get an empty cup? I didn't ask for an empty cup! I asked for a soda-pop! And what asshole started puttin' commercials in movies? I could go home and watch commercials on the TV! And the bathroom stinks; clean the fuckin' bathroom! I'm not gonna take it anymore! I paid too much money for these movie tickets to butter my own motherfuckin' popcorn! It's only popcorn!
[Granddad screams loud enough so that the whole movie theatre can hear him.]
Well, I've been standin' at the ticket window all day, and I don't remember you buyin' a ticket, Robert Freeman.
Well, I...uh, bought my tickets online...
AHA! A damn lie! I ain't never met a nigga smart enough to operate a personal computer! Not even a Macintosh!
(smiling wickedly while playing video games) I say toss her groupie ass out the window and let that hoe star gaze from outside.
Now Riley, There's never a place for violence in a relationship.
(laughing) There just seemed to be a place at the restaurant last night! She made you look like a bitch in front of Usher!
(To the side) Probably started out charitable. She took you in and was probably teaching you how to read.
But granddad, she did made Mr. Dubois look like a bitch.
Yeah, we all know she made him look a bitch. But find a different way to say it.
Next thing you know you're rubbing against that silky white skin...
But I don't know the non-curse way to say he got "bitched"!
Humiliated, Castrated, Emasculated...
All right! I get the point.
I mean, I can see if was a real nigga. If you lost your hoe to T.I. I'd be like "Yo, that's T.I." But Usher?! (laughs) You better check that ho Mr. Dubois!
Hey Tom? Tom? Get down here.
(walks into living room) Uh, what's going on guys?
Uh, Mr. Dubois, My name is A Pimp Named Slickback, and this sir, is an intervention.
Your friends have reason to believe that you are suffering from chronic Bitch Dependency Mr. Dubois. May I call you Tom?
(looks around room) Is this some kind of joke?
Tom, Bitch Dependency is no laughing matter. Addiction to a bitch can fuck with your friends, your health, and scary enough, even you money. It's a disease Tom.
Wait, what did you say your name was, again?
Well thank you for asking, my name is A Pimp Named Slickback.
(interrupting) --Named Slickback, yes. Please say the whole thing, if you would. Yes, that includes the "A Pimp Named" part. Yes, Tom, every time.
Look Mr. A Pimp Named Slickback--
(interrupting again) --No need for the "Mister".
I-I don't think I need any help from (scoffs) someone like you.
And by (scoffs) 'someone like me', you mean a pimp, a bad guy?
Now look, I'm not trying to insult you, I just don't approve of what you people do to women.
(jeering) Ooooh! So I'm wrong! So I'm messed up! We'll which one of us is the one missing a bitch, Tom? You don't see me running around lookin' for a bitch! I know where all of my bitches are, thank you very much! (dials number) Bitch where you at?! (ho speaks) I'm out here, gettin' yo money! (Slickback retorts) That's what the hell I thought, thank you grandma! (to Tom) Now look at you! Bitchless! Sans bitch, as the French in France would say!
(visibly annoyed) I've had enough! I'm going back upstairs!
Tom! Tom, when we first let you stay here, we thought it was only gonna be temporary. But damn! Tom, I just don't see any end in sight!
It's only been two days--.
(interrupting) --Nigga, hush! You're living under my roof now. If you stay here, you're going to get some help.
You know what? I know a great therapist. I'll make an appointment today!
(slowly)That, also would have been a good idea but, we've already paid Mr. A Pimp Named Slickback a retainer of 2,500 dollars.
Robert, you shouldn't have.
Yeah, I see you too. Whatcha want, Nigga?
Aw man, same shit. What's up with you?
Da fuck you mean "what's up with me"? I'm sitting right here next to you.
Voice sound real sexy right now...
You wanna talk to me later on?
No, I don't wanna talk later on motherfucker! WHAT DA FUCK IS WRONG WIT YOU?! WHAT DA FUCK'S SO SEXY ABOUT MY VOICE?!
(Reveals the Bluetooth on his left ear) Ah man, my bad, I was on the phone.
Great, you got one of those ridiculous fucking headset.
