Malibu's Most Wanted Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Malibu's Most Wanted script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Jamie Kennedy movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Malibu's Most Wanted. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Malibu's Most Wanted Script


  

   

                   

Malibu's Most Wanted



 

                   

Growing up in the streets ain 't no joke.



 

                   

There's crazy crime...



 

                   

drugs...



 

                   

and mad violence.



 

                   

Yeah, the streets is tough.



 

                   

But there ain 't no streets tougher

than mine. The streets of...



 

                   

Malibu.



 

                   

It's hardcore up in the 'Bu, y'all.



  

                   

It's just part of the everyday struggle.



  

                   

Things go down here

people should never see.



  

                   

We got bag ladies...



  

                   

big ballers...



  

                   

everybody strapped with a  .



  

                   

This is my ghetto. The mall.



  

                   

Most of the time the police

won 't even come through.



  

                   

We got all sorts of sets up in here.



  

                   

We got the beach boys...



  

                   

the A CCs:

the Abused Children of Celebrities...



  

                   

and this is my crew.



  

                   

That's my boy Mocha.

That brother straight-up crazy.



  

                   

He did time in public school!



  

                   

That there is Hadji.

He's the Beast from the Middle East.



  

                   

And that's Monster.

She had a big chip on her shoulder...



  

                   

till she ate it.



  

                   

Hey, that's me! B-Rad G.



  

                   

I run things around here.



  

                   

Now, sometimes bustas

be disrespecting.



  

                   

And you can 't punk out,

no matter what the devil may bring.



  

                   

Hey, yo, fool! We about to have some

hardcore drama go down right about now!



  

                   

That's right!



  

                   

This our mall.

Always has been, always will be.



  

                   

Mr. Amerislani.



  

                   

Our clerk accidentally gave you

the wrong aromatherapy candles.



  

                   

Here you go!



  

                   

-You validate parking?

-Of course, sir.



  

                   

That's what I'm talking about!

We get ours!



  

                   

That's my crib.



  

                   

It ain 't much, but it's all I got.



  

                   

If you elect me governor....



  

                   

That's my pops, Bill Gluckman.



  

                   

He getting his campaign on.



  

                   

I got mad love for the man,

but he 's old-school.



  

                   

He needs to bring his word to the street.

That's where I come in.



  

                   

You see, friends...



  

                   

California is my family.



  

                   

And speaking of family,

I want to introduce my wife, Bess.



  

                   

And my daughter, little Brenda.



  

                   

-Where's your son Brad?

-Yes, sir, where is he?



  

                   

Thank you for your questions.

Unfortunately, we are out of time for today.



  

                   

Yo, what's up, y'all?

This is B-Rad G, kicking it from 'Bu.



  

                   

Represizzent!



  

                   

Hi, Pops, it's me! B-Rad!



  

                   

Hi, Brad.



  

                   

Show's over! That's it. Show's over!



  

                   

See that?

I know how to get the party started!



  

                   

And I know my pop was loving it.



  

                   

It's a disaster!



  

                   

The Times and the Chronicle

will run it as a big joke.



  

                   

-Thank God!

-How did this happen?



  

                   

I have no idea.

I didn't even know he was in town!



  

                   

We can't keep tabs on this kid?

Can anybody tell me where he is?



  

                   

That was off the hinges!



  

                   

I just got you another million votes

right there!



  

                   

What you doing here, son?



  

                   

I knew I had to show up

in order for you to blow up!



  

                   

So I called up Captain Tony,

he fired up the Lear jizzy...



  

                   

and boo-yah! I'm in the hizzy.



  

                   

I'll be on the campaign trizzy too.   / .



  

                   

You know, kissing babies and whatnot.



  

                   

Pound it.



  

                   

Yeah, all good. Tom, you down, you gots....



  

                   

Okay, dude.

I'll let you all do your campaign thing.



  

                   

Oh, Bill....



  

                   

You need to shut this down.



  

                   

Tell your son that he cannot be

in your campaign, period.



  

                   

Wait a minute. I love his enthusiasm.

It's a little misguided, but....



  

                   

Isn't there something he can do

for the campaign where he can't hurt us?



  

                   

No.



  

                   

-Phones?

-No.



  

                   

Stuffing envelopes? Making signs?



  

                   

Signs.



  

                   

In Bill Gluckman's administration...



  

                   

women are going to have

better health care.



  

                   

Women are going to have better daycare!



  

                   

And women will have better jobs!



  

                   

In fact, after today,

my campaign has a new slogan:



  

                   

" Bill Gluckman is down with

the bitches and the ho's"?



  

                   

It was supposed to have read

"Women are first with Gluckman."



  

                   

No, no. That's old-school, Pops.



  

                   

You need to keep your pimp hand strong.



  

                   

So, Bradley....



  

                   

Yo, why you keep calling me that?



  

                   

Well, that's your name, isn't it?



  

                   

It's my slave name, all right?



  

                   

I told you like    times!



  

                   

Okay.



  

                   

B-Rad.



  

                   

What's up?



   

                   

What are your goals, B-Rad?

What do you want out of life?



   

                   

To be the biggest rapper there ever was.



   

                   

You see, doc, I got something to say...



   

                   

and I need the world to hear it.



   

                   

I'm a "lyrisologist."



   

                   

I can rap about anything.



   

                   

See? I'm the shiznit! I'll buy y'all cars.



   

                   

I see.



   

                   

When did you first start feeling

like you were this...



   

                   

shiznit?



   

                   

Dang, way back in the day.



   

                   

I had these beats in my head

since I was a little shorty.



   

                   

From then on in, it was hip-hop   / .



   

                   

As I was growing up, my parents

and me couldn 't communicate.



   

                   

They were always on different channels.



   

                   

Finish those vegetables, Bradley.

They smell good.



   

                   

You won 't be excused until you do.



   

                   

Forget y'all!



   

                   

That's it, mister--



   

                   

What I ' m sensing, Brad...



   

                   

is that...



   

                   

your parents weren ' t always

there for you.



   

                   

-No.

-That's ridiculous.



   

                   

What about your bar mitzvah?



   

                   

What's the theme of your bar mitzvah?

Star Wars? Baseball? Superheroes?



   

                   

-It's O.P.P., bitch!

-What?



   

                   

Bess.



   

                   

I think you want to share.



   

                   

B-Rad, you're a wonderful son.

It's just that....



   

                   

Well....



   

                   

Bess, let's not beat around the bush.

Brad...



   

                   

your behavior has become

an embarrassment to the family.



   

                   

Don't be hating.



   

                   

And I can't have you

on the campaign anymore.



   

                   

What? That's how it is?

You done it now!



   

                   

Y'all opened up big a can of tough love!



   

                   

-What can we do, doctor?

-I don't know.



   

                   

This is the most advanced case

of "gangsta-phrenia" I've ever seen.



   

                   

Three colors for our country.

Where's the red?



   

                   

Bill! Hey, Bill.



   

                   

-How'd it go with Dr. Feldman?

-Great.



   

                   

If he sees Brad five times a week

for the next three or four years...



   

                   

we should see some real improvement.



   

                   

But, sir, the election is eight weeks away.



   

                   

-Right, good point.

-It's okay.



   

                   

We've been brainstorming

some different approaches...



   

                   

-...and we might have something solid.

-Well, I'm all ears.



   

                   

-Go!

-Okay, sir.



   

                   

Brad acts ghetto, right?



   

                   

But he's never been east

of Beverly Hills.



   

                   

But what if we give him

a little dose of reality?



   

                   

Let him get a firsthand look

at the ghetto.



   

                   

-You mean have Brad actually go there?

-Exactly.



   

                   

-Well, now, that sounds dangerous.

-No! Perfectly safe.



   

                   

-How's it work?

-We hire actors to play gangstas.



   

                   

Right. They will carjack Brad

and take him on a tour around the 'hood.



   

                   

Give him a taste of what

the thug life is really like.



   

                   

-lt might just scare the black out of him.

-Excuse me?



   

                   

Hey, don't you have something to do?



   

                   

Enough of the P.C.



   

                   

Fact is, unless we do something now,

Brad is going to cost us this election.



   

                   

Who would play the gangsters?



   

                   

Remember the anti-crime spot

we shot a month ago?



   

                   

-We've got that queued up.

-Yes, we do. Over here, please.



   

                   

For too long, street violence

has torn Californians apart.



   

                   

Bill Gluckman wants

to put our divisions behind us.



   

                   

Hey, instead of thinking

about what set you're from...



   

                   

or what crew you 're rolling with...



   

                   

 why don 't you both be brothers?



   

                   

What do you say?



   

                   

Your hair looks great.



   

                   

I ain't never thought of it like that.



   

                   

Shake hands.



   

                   

You see?



   

                   

California is my family.



   

                   

If we all work together as a family,

there's no telling how high we can go.



   

                   

See, that's beautiful.

These are the guys we're talking about.



   

                   

All right, let me get this straight.



   

                   

You want us to scare this kid

into acting like a little white boy again?



   

                   

If you don't think you can handle it--



   

                   

Of course we can handle it.



   

                   

-I'm from Juilliard, for chrissake.

-I'm from the Pasadena Playhouse.



   

                   

Good.



   

                   

I have some background information

on our dear boy Brad.



   

                   

Materials.



   

                   

Mali-bootay?



   

                   

Yes, he considers himself

a rapper of sorts.



   

                   

-Frigging A.

-The story is your basic kidnapping.



   

                   

By kidnapping, you mean

we hold him for ransom?



   

                   

Good question.



   

                   

Right.



   

                   

Now, when you see him start to get ghetto

and do his whole black thing-- Yes, that.



   

                   

I want it to piss you off.



   

                   

Tour him around the 'hood,

around the ghetto, if you will...



   

                   

-...and show him what it's really like.

-ln the ghetto?



   

                   

Pays     grand apiece, son.



   

                   

-We're in.

-Good.



   

                   

-Now, on the flip side....

-Flip it.



   

                   

If you two screw up and a single hair

is touched on Brad's overprivileged head...



   

                   

I will see to it personally

that you two do some serious time.



   

                   

-Are we clear?

-Oh, we are Cristal.



   

                   

I like that.



   

                   

Mr. Gibbons.



   

                   

What about the money?



   

                   

We have   up front...



   

                   

and    when you return him to us...



   

                   

white.



   

                   

As the driven snow.



   

                   

-Pleasure doing business, gentlemen.

-Let me get that for you, sir.



   

                   

I'll call you. Or better yet, I'll holler.



   

                   

-We'll holler back!

-Holler back, player.



   

                   

Thank you. All right.



   

                   

Congratulations, buddy!

We just booked another gig!



   

                   

Not so fast, this is dangerous stuff.



   

                   

-This is the ghetto. We could get shot!

-Come on, man.



   

                   

We can handle ourselves. Right?



   

                   

This will be the ultimate acting challenge.



   

                   

-You know what really chaps my ass?

-What?



   

                   

After all of our years

of training and studying...



   

                   

they continue to give us parts

that are gangbangers.



   

                   

Just once I'd like to play someone

who speaks with proper grammar...



   

                   

and doesn't wear those Timberlands

with the laces undone, it's so sloppy.



   

                   

It beats getting dunked on

by Bill Gluckman!



   

                   

Do we even know anybody

that lives in the ghetto?



   

                   

My cousin.



   

                   

Shondra.



   

                   

That's the stupidest thing I ever heard.

I got better things to do with my time.



   

                   

Like what? Work at Wiener On A Bun?

Come on!



   

                   

Really, you're always talking about

improving yourself.



   

                   

-Here's your chance!

-I am improving myself, fool!



   

                   

I broke up with no-good, gangbanging Tec,

I'm going to beauty school...



   

                   

and then I'm gonna hook up

my own salon.



   

                   

How about hooking a brother up

with a Pepsi and fries?



   

                   

Shut up, stupid.



   

                   

-PJ.

-What?

P J



   

                   

You need to do this.



   

                   

You need to walk away

from this minimum-wage crap...



   

                   

take these earnings

and start that beauty parlor.



   

                   

-What you paying?

-Business. We're in business.



   

                   

-A grand.

-We're paying a grand.



   

                   

-Make it trey and we on.

-Three thousand dollars?!



   

                   

Or you can kiss my ass.



   

                   

-Deal.

-Hey, hey.



   

                   

Deal. Now what about those fries?



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

-Hey, Gladys?

-Yeah, baby?



   

                   

You ever feel like you don't belong?



   

                   

All the time.



   

                   

Most folk only feel comfortable

around folk that's the same as them.



   

                   

They get around folk that's different...



   

                   

get all scared and angry,

want to keep them down.



   

                   

What do you do about it?



   

                   

Nothing to do but keep it real

and be proud of who you are.



   

                   

Gladys?



   

                   

When they gonna leave our people alone?



   

                   

I don't know, baby.



   

                   

I just don't know.



   

                   

Now eat your greens before they get cold.



   

                   

"Whack: Weak, of poor quality.



   

                   

Bad. Whack."



   

                   

Your alma mater is whack.



   

                   

"Dis: To disrespect, to embarrass."



   

                   

-Bring it on, baby.

-We are strapped now, brother!



   

                   

Set these bad boys down.



   

                   

This is exactly what we ordered?



   

                   

Yeah, man. They got the Glocks,

the Tec- s, the Uzis.



   

                   

-Freeze, sucker!

-That's convincing, brother!



   

                   

Look, they're fake.



   

                   

What the hell is that?

What's going on with your hair?



   

                   

Yeah, check it out, man, my hair.



   

                   

-Shondra just did it for me.

-Yeah, I see that.



   

                   

-You hate it.

-No, I don't hate it.



   

                   

I thought my character

was gonna have the cornrows.



   

                   

-That's all.

-Okay, I see what it is.



   

                   

You're just jealous

because you didn't think of it first.



   

                   

Frigging A, I'm not jealous, all right.

I'm an actor and I would've....



   

                   

You're frigging whack...



   

                   

and don't dis me!



   

                   

-Got the gangster gear, my dog.

-Okay, cool.



   

                   

-What is so funny?

-The wig!



   

                   

I didn't know it was Halloween!



   

                   

While you're out,

could you bring me back some candy?



   

                   

Whatever, dude!



   

                   

Give me your ride, punk,

or I will dust your ass.



   

                   

-Nope. Not convincing.

-Damn it!



   

                   

Find your core character, Sean.



   

                   

You are an oppressed black man...



   

                   

-...from the ghetto.

-I'm having trouble finding this one.



   

                   

-Think Tupac.

-All right. Let me try it again.



   

                   

I see it. Action!



   

                   

Give me your ride, punk,

or I will dust your ass!



   

                   

Add a "bitch" and I think you got it!



   

                   

Give me your ride, punk, or

I will dust your ass, bitch!



   

                   

-Bitch! Click it!

-Bitch!



   

                   

-Turn around and do it again!

-Bitch!



   

                   

-Domi-ho's!

-Boo-yah!



   

                   

I'll take my money and I'm gonna--



   

                   

Yo, fool! What, nucka, what?



   

                   

Damn!



   

                   

-Play that.

-Yeah, girl.



   

                   

Word.



   

                   

-Can I help you?

-Coffee.



   

                   

Black.



   

                   

Hey, yo, Krista the Barista,

put it on my account...



   

                   

and throw in a white chip

macadizzamia nizzut cookie too.



   

                   

Cool, playa.



   

                   

-What's your name?

-B-Rad.



   

                   

I'm Shondra.



   

                   

I ain't seen you around here before.



   

                   

Where you reside?



   

                   

Compton. You?



   

                   

-The streets.

-Which streets?



   

                   

Malibu.



   

                   

Right. I guess it's pretty hardcore

up in here.



   

                   

Represent!



   

                   

Was that you dropping rhymes

when I came in here?



   

                   

You heard me?

Hell, yeah. I'm a rhymer on time.



   

                   

Peep my stilo.



   

                   

Let me find out.



   

                   

Mali-bootay?



   

                   

Looks phat. What label you at?



   

                   

Right now it's just a demo.



   

                   

I sent it to Dre,

but he ain't got back to me yet.



   

                   

That sound like Dre-Dre.

I'll holla at him about it, all right, boo?



   

                   

All right.



   

                   

Hold up!



   

                   

You know Dre?



   

                   

Hell, yeah, I know Dre.

I see him at the  meet every Sunday.



   

                   

-For rizzeal?

-For rizzeal.



   

                   

Yo, holla at him for me.



   

                   

I don't know.

You know, he kind of private.



   

                   

Please?



   

                   

You do got it going on

a little something-something, though.



   

                   

I was on my way to go see him.

You wanna roll with me?



   

                   

-Right now?

-I'm just trying to help a brother out.



   

                   

-Let's bounce.

-All right.



   

                   

I gotta use the ladies' room, so just wait,

all right, pimp juice?



   

                   

Hello?



   

                   

It's on. Beach boy's on the move.



   

                   

-So, what you rap about, anyway?

-I can rap about anything.



   

                   

-For real?

-Yeah.



   

                   

Let me kick it freestyle for you.



   

                   

See, that's a million-dollar song

right there.



   

                   

-So how'd you get to be so down?

-Shoot, girl.



   

                   

I been down with the brizzown all my life.



   

                   

And I must say, of all the mommies

that I been with...



   

                   

you the finest.



   

                   

I'm sure.



   

                   

You got a man?



   

                   

I did, but I just got rid of his trifling ass.



   

                   

I ain't nobody's gangsta hoochie,

I'm a entrepreneur.



   

                   

Word up!



   

                   

One day I'm gonna have me a chain

of beauty salons, all up in the       .



   

                   

I'll make mad money turning all

those little rich hoochies ghetto fabulous.



   

                   

Damn! You fine and smart too?



   

                   

You gonna blow up huge, no doubt.



   

                   

-Thank you.

-Oh, for real.



   

                   

You like a cross between

Martha Stewart and Oprah.



   

                   

-I'm gonna call you Mothra.

-What?



   

                   

Mothra.



   

                   

Take this exit!



   

                   

Break yourself, fool!



   

                   

Give me your ride

or I'll dust your ass, bitch!



   

                   

-What?

-You fitting to get jacked, fool!



   

                   

-Shondra?

-Shut up, fool.



   

                   

-ls this a come-up?

-It's a stickup.



   

                   

-I think I'm gonna throw up.

-Get in the back seat, fool!



   

                   

-We ain't going to Dre's?

-Fool, this a kidnapping!



   

                   

Get your ass in.



   

                   

Dre? What the hell he talking about?



   

                   

Yo, punch it, fool! Punch it!



   

                   

-Kidnapped?

-Yeah, fool.



   

                   

We got your rich Gluckman ass now, punk.



   

                   

-How y'all know me?

-We seen you.



   

                   

We seen your white behind on the TV.



   

                   

B-Rad. Yeah.



   

                   

Your pop's gonna pay,

or you gonna pay!



   

                   

Punch it, fool. We got us a white boy now.



   

                   

-How much you think we can get?

-It's all about the Benjamins.



   

                   

-Don't you talk about my mama.

-I'll talk all I want.



   

                   

Hell, no! Your mama so fat...



   

                   

she got every caterer on speed dial!



   

                   

What?



   

                   

Your mama's so fat she uses Mexico,

the whole country, as her tanning bed.



   

                   

Your mama so ugly

Jose Eber won't even do her hair.



   

                   

Yeah, your mama's so ugly

she's only been married once!



   

                   

Your mama's so poor

for Halloween her trick was the treat!



   

                   

Your mama's so poor

that your tits are real!



   

                   

-Oh, no!

-Yes!



   

                   

I'm going, I'm going.

I gotta wait for the lady.



   

                   

Come on, punk! Get in the house, fool!



   

                   

-Dang, why you doing this to a brother?

-What?



   

                   

-Did he just say "brother"?

-No!



   

                   

-Whose brother?

-Yours, y'all! I'm down.



   

                   

-Damn! Damn!

-You done did it now.



   

                   

You ain't black.

And you can never be black!



   

                   

And your perpetrating ass

is taking the only thing that I got left.



   

                   

-My culture!

-Yeah, fool!



   

                   

What make you think you know

what goes down up in the 'hood?



   

                   

-BET.

-What?

BET



   

                   

You think this a joke, wigga?

You think this a joke?



   

                   

-I'm sorry, y'all. Don't be hating.

-This ain't a game!



   

                   

You a long way from the beach now, punk!



   

                   

We in South Central! It's the 'hood.

It's the ghetto, the projects!



   

                   

We run hardcore up in here.

People get killed here every day!



   

                   

Hey, Shondra, can you come by later?

Princess just had puppies.



   

                   

Okay, Sandy. Bye.



   

                   

-Pit bull puppies, fool!

-And they mean too.



   

                   

-Don't look at me!

-Come on!



   

                   

-Get your narrow bootie up in there.

-Get him up in there!



   

                   

-Fool, put your hands behind your back.

-Behind the back.



   

                   

You know what I'm about to do now?



   

                   

-I'm about to call your daddy.

-Call your daddy.



   

                   

You better hope your daddy home too.

If he ain't, you gonna be one dusted trick!



   

                   

Now get your ass on the bed, whitey!



   

                   

-Did you buy my rage?

-No. You're indicating.



   

                   

-lndicating?

-Yes, indicating.



   

                   

Excuse me?

I have never indicated in my life.



   

                   

Would you two fools just shut the hell up?



   

                   

She's right. Shut up.



   

                   

Thank you, Shondra. Whatever!



   

                   

All right, put this down. You're on.



   

                   

-Go, girlfriend. Do your thing.

-Give me this.



   

                   

Hey, Shondra.



   

                   

If you have to...



   

                   

show a little ass.



   

                   

Shut up.



   

                   

-You all right in here?

-Oh, yeah.



   

                   

I just been kidnapped, carjacked

and hands tied behind my back.



   

                   

But other than that, it's all good.



   

                   

Look, I'm sorry about all that.

That wasn't really my idea.



   

                   

I thought you liked me.



   

                   

-I do!

-Then how come you set me up?



   

                   

I had to. They threatened to kill me

if I didn't play along.



   

                   

-For real?

-Yeah.



   

                   

-They straight-up killers out there!

-For real?



   

                   

Let me school you on something.

Help us both stay alive.



   

                   

-Okay.

-The one thing they hate...



   

                   

more than anything

that really makes them crazy...



   

                   

-...is posers.

-Me too, girl. I feel you.



   

                   

-I'm talking about you.

-Me? I ain't a poser. Shoot.



   

                   

-I got a Ph.D., a Poser-Hater Degree.

-Come on, quit fronting.



   

                   

I ain't fronting.



   

                   

-This is my sizzal. For rizzal, my nizzal.

-Stop it!



   

                   

You stop it right now

and you listen to me.



   

                   

If you just be yourself,

a nice little white boy...



   

                   

-...I think I can convince them to let you go.

-But I'm being myself!



   

                   

I ams who I says I ams.



   

                   

Damn! Why won't anybody believe me?



   

                   

-Well?

-Maybe you should show him your ass.



   

                   

I thought that would have worked.

Weird.



   

                   

All right, what's next?



   

                   

-How about number three?

-Perfect.



   

                   

We're gonna take it

to an entirely different level.



   

                   

-I got it.

-What?



   

                   

I'm gonna walk in there and be crazy.

I'll be ghettofied, buckwild.



   

                   

You tell me, "Stick to the plan, man.

Stick to the plan." Got it?



   

                   

-Wake up, snowflake!

-Yeah!



   

                   

-We called your dad!

-What did he say?



   

                   

He said he'd think about it.



   

                   

He don't want your ass home right now.



   

                   

-I can't say that I blame him.

-Hell, no. Not the knife, dog!



   

                   

Now come on!



   

                   

-What you doing?

-Teach this white girl a lesson!



   

                   

Bloodbath, we said

we would stick to the plan!



   

                   

-Bloodbath, stick with the plan.

-Tree, the plan done changed!



   

                   

Wannabe say he down.



   

                   

I'm gonna show him just how

un-down he is!



   

                   

-I gotta cut him!

-No, you can't cut him!



   

                   

-I gotta.

-You don't gotta.



   

                   

We can't get our money!



   

                   

-I thought you said to cut him!

-No--



   

                   

-Okay, just the white meat.

-Move! Let me cut him!



   

                   

Don't kill him though, Bloodbath!



   

                   

All right, now, Malibu.



   

                   

I want you to go up in there.

You go get me six   s of O.E.



   

                   

-And a fifth of Henny.

-Yeah.



   

                   

-Anything else, dog?

-No, playa, I'm cool.



   

                   

Right on. Right on.



   

                   

I'd like some Pringles.



   

                   

This ain't no picnic, bitch!



   

                   

I'm sorry. Y'all got some ducats?

Because since you stole my--



   

                   

Man!



   

                   

You about to go up in there

and give them Koreans your ends?



   

                   

-Hell, no!

-You jack that shit, fool!



   

                   

And if the Asiatic give you any static,

hit the fool with this right here.



   

                   

-Look at the little busta.

-Little busta.



   

                   

-Can't even swing a gat.

-Shoot.



   

                   

-Talking about "he down."

-But--



   

                   

-You use that or I'm gonna use it on you!

-Okay.



   

                   

And if you try to get away?



   

                   

I'm gonna let you taste a piece

of my blue steel. You feel me?



   

                   

Okay. All right.



   

                   

-Go on, get out!

-Okay.



   

                   

Go!



   

                   

Hey, white boy.



   

                   

-"This ain't no picnic, bitch"? Wow!

-Thank you. I loved the blue steel line.



   

                   

Convincing.



   

                   

-I really can't believe that!

-Those improv classes are paying off.



   

                   

When you said, "This is no picnic, bitch,"

I screamed on the inside like one.



   

                   

-For real?

-Yeah, I said:



   

                   

I'm thirsty, I gotta tell you.



   

                   

And, boy, do I love Olde English.

It really helps quench my thirst.



   

                   

Can I help you?



   

                   

No, I'm gonna help myself to this O.E.

and anything else I want up in here, bitch!



   

                   

Can I help you?



   

                   

-Y'all never been robbed?

-Sure. Last week was    time.



   

                   

But they were cool.

No gun to head, never scream.



   

                   

-You know, good people.

-Cool.



   

                   

So, dude,

how much did you pay the guy?



   

                   

What are you talking about?



   

                   

-When you set this thing up yesterday.

-I thought you set it up.



   

                   

You mean--?



   

                   

Dude, the owner doesn't know

this is fake?



   

                   

$   .  .



   

                   

-Go in and save him! He could get shot!

-I'm not gonna go in there! You go in there!



   

                   

His frigging life

is at stake!



   

                   

My emergency stash!



   

                   

I'm glad you got cash, because

if you had tried to jack me, fool...



   

                   

I was gonna have

to lay you out with this!



   

                   

And with this.



   

                   

And with that.



   

                   

Keep the change.



   

                   

-Do me this one favor.

-You are the driver. I am the shooter!



   

                   

-I'm scared of Koreans!

-You--



   

                   

Thank you. Thank you very much!

Come again!



   

                   

What I'm about to do right now,

I know it sounds whack...



   

                   

but it's just a joke, okay?

So please don't shoot me?



   

                   

Yeah, that's right, fool! Next time

I'll bust a cap in your punk ass, bitch!



   

                   

Yeah, you lucky I don't burn you down!

Hell, yeah! Hell, yeah!



   

                   

-What the hell is wrong with you?

-You actually did it?



   

                   

Let's roll! Hell, yeah! He didn't do nothing!

He straight-up trick.



   

                   

What's up with this? If you jacked it,

how come you got a receipt?



   

                   

I stole that too.



   

                   

What's on tap for tomorrow?



   

                   

Well, we have the     :   with Greenpeace,

then drinks later with the offshore oil lobby.



   

                   

-How's the Brad project going?

-Smooth. He's in South Central.



   

                   

-God, is he okay?

-Oh, he's in excellent hands.



   

                   

All right. I'm sick of playing

game with you, snowflake!



   

                   

I'm gonna give you five seconds to be real

or I'm gonna beat that ass to the curb!



   

                   

-What you mean be real?

-You know what I mean. Be white!



   

                   

-Five.

-Don't do it, Bloodbath!

 



   

                   

-Four.

-Don't do it, Bloodbath!

 



   

                   

-Three.

-He gonna do it!

 



   

                   

-Two.

-Kill him! Kill him!

 



   

                   

Okay, all right!



   

                   

Okay, fellas, look,

I'm really sorry, okay?



   

                   

I don't mean to offend you, you know.

I don't mean to front or act like a thug.



   

                   

I'm sorry.



   

                   

-You buying that?

-I don't know. I can't tell.



   

                   

Me neither.



   

                   

Let's give him the test.



   

                   

How you doing, white boy?

You cool?



   

                   

Great. Fine.



   

                   

Terrific popcorn.



   

                   

Run, bitch, run!

He gonna kill you!



   

                   

I ain't lying. I ain't lying.



   

                   

Sorry, y'all, but this is who I am.

I'm just a rapper, straight up.



   

                   

-Wigga, please!

-No, for real. I can rap about anything.



   

                   

You think you got skills?



   

                   

-We gonna see about that.

-Oh, hell, yeah.



   

                   

Hey, man.

I had it up to here with you.



   

                   

You better check yourself

before you wreck yourself.



   

                   

-This ain't Malibu.

-Represent.



   

                   

Oh, yeah. We gonna see what you

represent now, fool. We at the club!



   

                   

Snoop, Dre, Cube, all them.

They came in through here.



   

                   

Got something to prove

to yourself? Do it in there.



   

                   

Get in there, fool!

Go on up in there!



   

                   

-Think this is gonna do it, dude.

-Oh, we're about to get paid!



   

                   

What's cracking?



   

                   

Hey, dog.



   

                   

-Yeah, how you feeling now, Malibu?

-Like I'm home.



   

                   

Get your ass in there then, fool.

Go!



   

                   

Come on.

Let me get through here, man.



   

                   

-Yo.

-Man, I told you I didn't have--



   

                   

What's happening?



   

                   

Look, our homey--

You wanna get a young Dre next, man?



   

                   

Hell, no.

You hear what he's saying?



   

                   

Meet my boy, Ben Franklin.



   

                   

-What's his name?

-B-Rad from Malibu, player.



   

                   

B-Rad from Mal--?

You trying to get me shot?



   

                   

Hey, you met Ben Franklin's

twin brother?



   

                   

Cutter, playa.



   

                   

We're gonna bring him up. Go back and play

with each other. Come back in five minutes.



   

                   

-Playa....

-Y'all got some Will Smith back there?



   

                   

Get jiggy with it!



   

                   

Hey, miss. Where you been?



   

                   

Oh, Shondra!

Shondra!



   

                   

-I been busy, Tec.

-You been getting busy?



   

                   

None of your damn business.



   

                   

Okay, okay, I'm cool. I understand.

Just tell me who it is.



   

                   

All you need to know

is that it ain't your black ass.



   

                   

See, this that shit.

Think you're better than me.



   

                   

All you is is a chickenhead

and that's all you ever gonna be.



   

                   

Hey, girl. What's up?



   

                   

-You all right?

-I'm fine, but you the finest!



   

                   

She the truth too, dude. I'm telling you,

once Mothra gets set up, boy....

once Mothra gets set up, boy....



   

                   

-You hitting this?

-No. Now let me go!

-You hitting this?



   

                   

Hey, dude, didn't your mama ever tell you

how to treat a lady? That's not nice.



   

                   

Oh, so you know my moms?



   

                   

No, but she wouldn't appreciate you

grabbing a woman like that.



   

                   

What would your mom prefer?



   

                   

You know, just talk to them

and be nice to them.



   

                   

Know what my mom would do?



   

                   

My mom would tell you to

mind your own damn business!



   

                   

Don't!



   

                   

-Don't be hating.

-Tec, don't! Stop it!



   

                   

Y'all gonna be real sorry,

the both of you.



   

                   

-You all right?

-Yeah, I'm okay.



   

                   

-Who was that?

-Old history.



   

                   

You know what?

Come on.



   

                   

He strong.



   

                   

-Excuse me.

-Where we going?



   

                   

Just shut up.

Move, please?



   

                   

You gotta get out of here.



   

                   

-You letting me go?

-I'm not having your blood on my hands.



   

                   

It's the red Honda by the door.

Just go.



   

                   

All the way from Malibu, B-Rad.

Give it up for B-Rad.



   

                   

Straight out of Malibu.

B-Rad, come on up. B-Rad.



   

                   

-Go!

-I can't.



   

                   

-Why?

-Shondra...



   

                   

...anybody can rap

at the Malibu County Fair.



   

                   

This is my chance, my one shot.

I gotta prove myself.



   

                   

This is gonna be

like an episode of Oz.



   

                   

Yeah, excuse me.



   

                   

Yeah, I'm just gonna go on stage,

do my rhyme thing.



   

                   

They kind of pack them

in tight here.



   

                   

-Get up there. Do your thing.

-Yeah, get up there, fool!



   

                   

Oh, hell, no!

No, hell, no.



   

                   

Him? No! Hell, no.



   

                   

-Do you all have a locker?

-Man, come on. You a rapper?



   

                   

Yeah, straight up.



   

                   

I didn't know Dairy Queen

had a rap label.



   

                   

Hey, I may be white,

but my rhymes is tight.



   

                   

-I'm down, y'all.

-No, you ain't down, homey.



   

                   

I ain't battling no bitch, homey,

first of all.



   

                   

I know you heard that!



   

                   

Yo, Felli!

Can I serve this fool right quick?



   

                   

Hey, man. Serve him, dog.



   

                   

Hey, y'all give it up

for my man Hi-C.



   

                   

Let's set it off. What's it gonna be, Saltine?

Heads or tail?



   

                   

Tiz-ziz-ails!



   

                   

Tails. I like tails, please.



   

                   

What's it gonna be?

First or second?



   

                   

Hey, ladies first.



   

                   

No. Y'all cut it out.

Serve him, Hi-C.



   

                   

Man, check this out.

I got something for his ass.



   

                   

Do this for me, let me hear--

Yeah, say:



   

                   

Y'all give it up for Hi-C!

Hi-C in the house!



   

                   

Big Steel serving, baby,

serving heavy his style.



   

                   

Man, I ain't gonna

battle this little punk.



   

                   

Let's see what you got.



   

                   

When I say, "Mali," you say, "'Bu."

Mali--



   

                   

Okay, feeling the love.



   

                   

Here we go, dog!



   

                   

One, two, three, four, flow!



   

                   

I'm sorry.



   

                   

It's Black History Month.

You out your rabbit-ass mind?



   

                   

What is this?

Is this some sort of rap initiation?



   

                   

This is not how they

do it on American Idol.



   

                   

Come on.



   

                   

Don't be hating.



   

                   

Yo, all y'all rappers out there!

My name is Brad Gluckman...



   

                   

...and when I'm on the mic,

you can really say I suck, man!



   

                   

Look, y'all. Y'all had

y'all laugh. Just chill out.



   

                   

Yeah, because B-Rad G's

about to get ill.



   

                   

Yo, I ain't laughed that hard

in a long, long time. For real.



   

                   

Hey, yo, player. Your pops called,

and you know what he said?



   

                   

He ain't paying.



   

                   

He just wants you to stay

in the 'hood with the brothers.



   

                   

You know, since you so

down and all.



   

                   

I guess we gonna have

to smoke your punk ass.



   

                   

What you think about that?



   

                   

I don't care no more.



   

                   

I got nothing to live for.



   

                   

Go ahead, smoke me.



   

                   

Dude.



   

                   

You believe what they

putting on-stage?



   

                   

That's right. You getting played, homey.

Straight out, dog.



   

                   

-Excuse me?

-I said you getting played, dog.



   

                   

Little white boy up there hitting your lady.

She digging it, loving what's going on.



   

                   

You know what I was kind of thinking

to myself? Maybe I'd go next.



   

                   

-You want next?

-Let a homeboy get some action, you know?



   

                   

Hey, homes! What's up?



   

                   

-Not here, Tec.

-What you wanna do?



   

                   

I wanna bag me a white boy,

that's what I wanna do.



   

                   

Hey, you okay?



   

                   

You know,

it's not as bad as it seems.



   

                   

It's worse. Everybody's right.

My rhymes is weak.



   

                   

You just need a little work.



   

                   

I should've run when you

gave me the chance.



   

                   

No, you were right. I respect you

for getting up there. You got mad heart.



   

                   

But you heard them laughing.

I ain't nothing but a busta.



   

                   

They just don't understand you.



   

                   

None of them know how

hardcore it is up in Malibu.



   

                   

-Yeah?

-Yeah.



   

                   

With the traffic...



   

                   

...and the sharks.

Y'all got sharks.



   

                   

And when the public be all up

on your private beach?



   

                   

Right. Right.



   

                   

You just gotta stick with it

and be yourself.



   

                   

Don't let anybody tell you

who you are.



   

                   

You all right, B-Rad.



   

                   

Shondra?



   

                   

You know when I was saying earlier,

in the car, about being a player and all?



   

                   

I was just fooling.



   

                   

I ain't never been with

a real black girl before.



   

                   

-For real?

-Well, except on the lnternet.



   

                   

You the finest girl I ever seen

in my whole life.



   

                   

And I was wondering...



   

                   

...since they're gonna

ice me in the morning...



   

                   

...could l, like,

kind of, maybe...



   

                   

...hopefully...



   

                   

...kiss you?



   

                   

You so pretty.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

Oh, you real pretty!



   

                   

Damn, fool! I said kiss! I offered you

a snack, not the whole kitchen!



   

                   

My bad! My bad!



   

                   

My bad.



   

                   

Oh, hell, no! Hell, no!

Get your ass up!



   

                   

Get your big ass up!

Move!



   

                   

All right, that's it. This game is whack.

I want my money and then y'all can get out.



   

                   

Hey, Shondra,

but we're not done yet.



   

                   

And you ain't never

gonna be done.



   

                   

Did it ever occur to you clowns

this might be the way he really is?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

Whatever. Look, I did what you asked.

I want my money.



   

                   

You fail to realize that putting together

this operation has been quite expensive.



   

                   

Bling bling!



   

                   

Excuse me?



   

                   

-I might not have all the money right now.

-Are you playing me?



   

                   

Y'all better get my money or I'm going

in there and I'm gonna tell him what's up.



   

                   

Hey, dog.



   

                   

Down here, dog.



   

                   

Stuart Little?



   

                   

Negro, please. That little white rat

ain't got nothing on me.



   

                   

Yo, I'm Ronnie Rizzat,

represizzent.



   

                   

Hey, Ronnie.



   

                   

-Why you down, dog?

-I'm a failure.



   

                   

No, it ain't like that, fool.



   

                   

You need to stop listening to all them

perpetrators and just be yourself.



   

                   

-For real?

-For rizzeal. Pound it.



   

                   

Hold up.



   

                   

You saying if I put my mind to it,

I can be whatever I wanna be?



   

                   

-Damn straight.

-That if I follow my dreams...



   

                   

-...I can achieve true happiness?

-Word.



   

                   

And if I work hard, I can be

the biggest rapper there ever was?



   

                   

Rapper? Hell, no.

You stink.



   

                   

Don't be hating.



   

                   

I'd rather eat garbage than listen

to your tired-ass rhymes.



   

                   

Now look here, man.

I'm up out of here. I gotta go see my lady.



   

                   

She's a breeder rat at PetCo.



   

                   

And please believe it. It's all

gonna work out for the best.



   

                   

Oh, shiznit!



   

                   

He totally bought it.

The carjack going into the kidnapping.



   

                   

And we staged a beautiful liquor

store robbery. You should have been there.



   

                   

Unfortunately...



   

                   

...he still seems to be posing...



   

                   

...so we've taken it upon ourselves

to plan a drive-by shooting next.



   

                   

Mr. Gluckman will be very happy.



   

                   

It's gonna take more money

than we projected.



   

                   

We were wondering if

you could give us an advance--



   

                   

No, no, no, no, no.



   

                   

You'll get the rest of your money when

Richie Cunningham walks through my door.



   

                   

-Right. I do under--

-Good.



   

                   

Mr. Gibbons? Hello?



   

                   

Damn!



   

                   

They been playing me all along!



   

                   

I knew my rhymes was dope!



   

                   

I knew the 'hood

couldn't be this bad.



   

                   

How could they do that?



   

                   

How could she do that?



   

                   

All right.

The damn fools wanna play?



   

                   

Then let's play!



   

                   

What the hell?!



   

                   

-What the hell are you doing?

-Listen up!



   

                   

B-Rad G's in the hizzy.



   

                   

And things are gonna start

changing around here for shizzy.



   

                   

Do something!



   

                   

You better shut your mouth, fool! Get back

in that room before I beat your ass.



   

                   

You feeling froggy?

Then leap.



   

                   

-Anybody else wanna step?

-No.



   

                   

-What the hell got into you?

-Shut up, ho!



   

                   

Ho?!



   

                   

-Who you calling a ho, ho?

-You, ho!



   

                   

The same ho that gave up that weak-ass

kiss five minutes ago in the bedroom.



   

                   

-Really?

-Shondra.



   

                   

I told you she liked white boys.



   

                   

-Who do you think you are?

-I'm B-Rad G from ' Bu. Represent.



   

                   

What y'all didn't realize is, I was

trying to put my mobbing days behind me.



   

                   

But rolling with y'all

done re-awoke my inner killer.



   

                   

So let's start dropping bodies!



   

                   

-Don't stand there! Come on, girl, help us!

-You created that monster. You deal with it!



   

                   

-Hey, where you going, man?

-I need to take a drive.



   

                   

-Where you fixing to drive to?

-I think today's a good day to die.



   

                   

Why you talking crazy, man?

Just be cool. Hey!



   

                   

I might as well go out

in a blaze of glory.



   

                   

My daddy don't love me,

my rhymes is played out...



   

                   

-...I ain't down enough for y'all.

-No, you're down. Isn't he down, PJ?



   

                   

-Tree, ain't he down?

-Yeah, he down as they come, fool!



   

                   

-Oh, my God!

-It's a jack!



   

                   

Get out the car, white boy!



   

                   

Oh, you that weak fuck

from the club.



   

                   

Get your behind

out the car, man!



   

                   

-Got something for me?

-Hell, yeah.



   

                   

-You ready to die?

-Ain't that a "co-inky-dink."



   

                   

I was just talking

to my two homeys about that.



   

                   

-Shut up and move. Move him!

-All right.



   

                   

But y'all should change up your style

because this jackings is getting tired.



   

                   

Hey, yo, Bloodbath, if there's one scratch

on my ride, I'm gonna eat your children!



   

                   

-Shotgun!

-Yo, Deuce, shut him up.



   

                   

Jesus.



   

                   

  Ball, what should we do

with Bloodbath and his friend?



   

                   

-Nothing.

-I said shotgun.



   

                   

Know what shotgun means?



   

                   

Shotgun means I ride in the front.

You better hope I don't piss in your trunk.



   

                   

Shut up.



   

                   

Allow me to clear this up for you,

my dogs. My name isn't Bloodbath...



   

                   

...it's Sean James,

and I'm just an actor--



   

                   

-ls Shondra hitting that white boy?

-I don't think anyone's hitting anybody.



   

                   

-She's just in on the scam we have going.

-What you talking about, scams?



   

                   

Hey, player, we were just hired

to kidnap Bill Gluckman's son, man.



   

                   

-That's all we was doing.

-ls that that dude running for governor?



   

                   

-You know him?

-Hell, yeah.



   

                   

-Down with the bitches and ho's.

-I'm voting for him.



   

                   

You think we ignorant

because we live in the 'hood?



   

                   

I didn't say that.



   

                   

-Man, we would never say that, brother!

-Silence!



   

                   

Yo, we got Gluckman's son.

Gotta be worth more alive than dead.



   

                   

-What you think?

-Gotta be.



   

                   

Grab Fatback. I got Milk Dud.



   

                   

-Let's roll.

-I'm soft.



   

                   

The polls say that since Brad

has been out of the picture...



   

                   

...we have gone up six points.



   

                   

Yeah, but we're still dead

in the urban demos.



   

                   

-Gays too.

-We can't win without them.



   

                   

-Mr. Gibbons?

-Yeah.



   

                   

I have a Sean on the phone

for you, sir.



   

                   

Check it out, homes.

Is that him or what?



   

                   

Yeah, that's Tec

from the l- s, homes.



   

                   

Call Cyco. Tell him to bring it all down.

We're gonna have ourself a party tonight.



   

                   

Mr. Gibbons, we have a real

serious problem here.



   

                   

-I told you no more money.

-Yes, I realize you said that, but this is--



   

                   

-We're in really big troub--

-Listen, fool.



   

                   

Gluckman's boy's been kidnapped

for real, along with your punk-ass friends.



   

                   

Kidnapped?



   

                   

If Mr. Governor wants to see his punk

bitch baby boy alive again...



   

                   

...I want     grand

by tomorrow midnight.



   

                   

How do I know this is real?



   

                   

What, you think your actors is this good?

Say something!



   

                   

Please help us.



   

                   

I am...



   

                   

...so...



   

                   

...scared!



   

                   

Please help us.



   

                   

-Well?

-Okay. I'm convinced.



   

                   

-Get my money.

-Fine. I can arrange that, but--



   

                   

You got     minutes.



   

                   

-Now what?

-We wait.



   

                   

-What?!

-They want     grand or they'll kill him.



   

                   

-You've gotta be kidding me.

-Oh, come on! Oh, no!



   

                   

-Oh, my God.

-We're going to jail.



   

                   

Wait, slow down. Don't panic.



   

                   

-lt was your idea!

-That was idiotic!



   

                   

Don't panic. Just let me

think this through here.



   

                   

You're as guilty as any of us.



   

                   

Now, we may just have

a very interesting opportunity here.



   

                   

-Where are you going with this?

-The negatives are obvious.



   

                   

Yeah! Bill drops out of the race,

emotional distress.



   

                   

I can handle Bill.

What are the positives?



   

                   

Well, there are just so many.



   

                   

-No more Brad problem.

-Right.



   

                   

Right, I like that!



   

                   

With a dead son, sympathy could spike us

in the female and gay demos.



   

                   

Wait, I've got the image!



   

                   

Bill weeping...



   

                   

...over Brad's open casket.



   

                   

After grieving,

he goes on the offensive.



   

                   

-His war on crime!

-Drugs!



   

                   

-Gangs!

-It's what's hot!



   

                   

-Oh, that's great!

-It's just what we needed!



   

                   

-Get over there, man.

-Hold me!



   

                   

-Who this?

-No deal.



   

                   

-Say what?

-Bill Gluckman does not deal with criminals.



   

                   

That's it.

His punk ass is dead.



   

                   

You do what you have to do.

We'll do what we have to do.



   

                   

There you go.



   

                   

That was cold.

Yo, take off the tape.



   

                   

Goddamn, that hurts

like a motherfick!



   

                   

I'm gonna have to teach

you all some manners!



   

                   

Your daddy ain't paying.



   

                   

-Tell me something I don't know.

-What?



   

                   

You heard me, you half-stepping,

moist-ass bitch!



   

                   

-Excuse me?

-You gonna do it like that?



   

                   

-All right, then. Bring it.

-It's been brought.



   

                   

Okay, then. That gat's real, right?



   

                   

So then do it. Put crackerjack

out his misery. Come on, y'all.



   

                   

-I'll do it myself. Pull the trigger!

-Get him!



   

                   

This fool is crazy!

I cannot deal with this shit.



   

                   

Oh, damn!



   

                   

-Nice. Yeah, this is good.

-Get your ass down, fool!



   

                   

Y'all take this seriously!



   

                   

-I love you, Sean.

-I love you too.



   

                   

Lay down some cover, fool!



   

                   

We can't!

They too strapped!



   

                   

"We can't!

they too strapped!"



   

                   

-What we gonna do?

-"What we gonna do? "



   

                   

Punks. Give me them gats.

Y'all are serious crazy.



   

                   

Y'all wanna play?

Then let's play.



   

                   

Y'all know who you dealing with?



   

                   

I'm Malibu's most wanted, y'all!



   

                   

King Kong ain't got

nothing on me!



   

                   

Damn. These special effects

is the bomb.



   

                   

-Let's go!

-Let's dip!



   

                   

Let's go!



   

                   

It's safe now, y'all.



   

                   

Hey, yo, that was ill.



   

                   

And y'all punk asses ain't do nothing.

All that buffness for no reason.



   

                   

That's him.



   

                   

Get over here.



   

                   

-Where you learn that from?

-Grand Theft Auto  .



   

                   

-Word? Can I borrow that?

-You got a PlayStation  ?



   

                   

-No, I got GameCast.

-GameCast?



   

                   

There's GameCube and Dreamcast.

Which you got?



   

                   

I said I got GameCast, man.

Damn! I can't afford it!



   

                   

My bad. I'm just trying to help you out.



   

                   

I'm gonna holler at you.



   

                   

-My wigga.

-Hey, what up, my nizzle?



   

                   

What's up, baby? How you doing, man?

I got something for you.



   

                   

That's yours, B.



   

                   

-Oh, for real?

-Yeah.



   

                   

Yo, you shouldn't have.



   

                   

Serious moment. Bring it in, y'all.



   

                   

Welcome to the Nines, baby.

Only way out now is in a box.



   

                   

-ln a box?

-ln a box.



   

                   

Oh, in a box. Right.



   

                   

Good evening, I'm Hal Fishman.



   

                   

We open tonight

with a Channel   News exclusive.



   

                   

A security camera

captured incredible footage...



   

                   

...of gang violence tonight

as it flared on the streets of South Central.



   

                   

This hardcore gangster,

believed to be the notorious White Kong...



   

                   

...ringleader of a South Central

street gang...



   

                   

...fired his weapons with wanton disregard

for human life or personal property.



   

                   

If you have any information

on the whereabouts of this man...



   

                   

...call our KTLA hotline at    -  -SNITCH.



   

                   

Oh, my God!



   

                   

Yo, that is some hardcore shnizit.



   

                   

Damn, Moch, what are we gonna do?



   

                   

We're gonna bounce back

to our respective cribs...



   

                   

...jack our mom and dad's biggest gats,

jet down to South Central and save his ass.



   

                   

-Word.

-Word.



   

                   

Hey, Bradley's been involved

in a gang shooting.



   

                   

-What?

-No, it couldn't be. No.



   

                   

His face is all over the news.

I think I'd know my own son.



   

                   

All right, well, I'm sure

there's a logical explanation.



   

                   

Get some sleep

and let me take care of it.



   

                   

Sleep? He's shooting the hell

out of South Central. Let's go get him.



   

                   

No! Bill, you have a debate

tomorrow in Sacramento.



   

                   

The hell with the debate.



   

                   

Cancel that and you can kiss

this campaign goodbye.



   

                   

Shove the debate up your ass.

I'm not gonna lose my son over this.



   

                   

Listen, I understand you're upset...



   

                   

...but for once in your life will you think

outside the box? For once?



   

                   

This whole thing, this whole Brad thing

with the gangs...



   

                   

...we can spin it.

Make it into a positive.



   

                   

-Positive?

-lf he's arrested or injured...



   

                   

...we can spin it

so you're the victim.



   

                   

-"Crime reaches everyone" kind of thing.

-Are you trying to get votes out of this?



   

                   

I'm trying to win

and you don't seem to care!



   

                   

-I'm his father!

-Since when?



   

                   

Since right now.



   

                   

And you're fired.



   

                   

We need to brainstorm

on how I get my job back.



   

                   

Hello, this is OnStar.



   

                   

I'm looking for a location

of the license number D-SHlzNlT.



   

                   

That vehicle is at the corner

of McKinley and   nd Street, sir.



   

                   

What are you supposed to be?

Robo-bitch?



   

                   

All right, Monster, what are you packing?



   

                   

-This.

-What is that?



   

                   

My pop's spear gat, from the yacht.



   

                   

What is he hunting, Flipper?



   

                   

Think you so bad.



   

                   

-What you got?

-Never mind.



   

                   

-Come on, let's see it.

-All right, chill. Chill.



   

                   

-ls that a freaking musket?

-Yeah, it's a freaking musket.



   

                   

Shut up! Shut up, you damn posers!



   

                   

-Hadji, how about you?

-I couldn't get much, yo. Just this.



   

                   

Oh, my God.



   

                   

-Dang! Where'd you get all that?

-Christmas present from Uncle Ahmet.



   

                   

Mercedes-Benz, may I help you?



   

                   

Hell, yes, chickenhead! I need

a location on license plate D-SHlzNlT.



   

                   

That car is on the corner

of McKinley and   nd Street.



   

                   

-Where's he going?

-Are they making a sandwich?



   

                   

He's the mayonnaise

between the wheat bread.



   

                   

Go, Brad! Get some black ass!



   

                   

Get some black ass.



   

                   

-Where's B-Rad at?

-I haven't seen a thing. I haven't seen him.



   

                   

-Shondra? A little help, please?

-Sit your monkey ass down. Don't move.



   

                   

What you know about this?

What you know about that?



    

                   

-You want some of this crotch?

-Yeah, he does.



    

                   

Get it, girl.



    

                   

You know what?

You know, I just tested positive...



    

                   

...for G-A-M-E.



    

                   

-All right, gangsta.

-Come on, girl. Let's do this.



    

                   

-Okay.

-We gonna show you something.



    

                   

-Wait till you see what we're gonna do.

-I ain't mad at nothing.



    

                   

-I wanna learn.

-You wanna learn?



    

                   

I like that.

I'm ready for the chocolate love.



    

                   

-Shondra?

-Yeah, it's Shondra...



    

                   

...but I guess I wasn't

good enough for you.



    

                   

-What?

-You had to get two more.



    

                   

-No, she didn't.

-Yes, she did.



    

                   

This no-good, deadbeat, weak-ass

white boy won't take care of little Malik.



    

                   

-Malik?

-Or Taquayzsha.



    

                   

-Taquayzsha?

-Or Nahojay.



    

                   

-Naho-who?

-Oh, no, now that's trifling.



    

                   

-Let's get out of here.

-Thank you, girl.



    

                   

No problem, ladies. Okay, bye-bye.



    

                   

Damn. Why you throwing salt

on my G-A-M-E?



    

                   

I am saving your lily-white ass.

Now come on.



    

                   

I ain't going nowhere.

I'm a l-  now.



    

                   

Peep my tat.



    

                   

-Listen, fool--

-No, you listen. I know what you done.



    

                   

How this whole thing is fake.

The stickup, the kidnap, the whole nizzy.



    

                   

-Damn.

-No, you damn. Why you play me?



    

                   

-For the money.

-Money? What you need money for?



    

                   

Look, fool, this may sound stupid to you,

but not everybody has money.



    

                   

And for the people who don't,

money is important.



    

                   

You're probably still flipping me

and whatnot.



    

                   

Damn it, B-Rad, this is real.

Tec and his crew are real.



    

                   

Oh, really?



    

                   

Well, then if Tec is real,

then this gat must be real.



    

                   

And if this gat is real,

then the bullets in it have got to be real.



    

                   

And seeing how my foot is real,

this would really hurt.



    

                   

See that? I just shot my foot.



    

                   

And it's real!



    

                   

Oh, my God, this whole thing is real!

I just shot my foot.



    

                   

I just shot my foot.

I just shot my foot.



    

                   

Sit. Stop hopping around, fool.

Goodness.



    

                   

-Oh, God. Oh, Shondra, I'm dying!

-This cap barely grazed you.



    

                   

-I can't live!

-Lucky you such a weak-ass shot.



    

                   

-Then it's real. This whole thing is real!

-Stop moving.



    

                   

-Hey, who doing all that popping up--

-Oh, God.



    

                   

Hey, what the hell?

Hey, what up, cuz?



    

                   

Hey, Tec! My road dog, yeah.

Just the man I want to see.



    

                   

-You know Shondra.

-What's going on, Shondra?



    

                   

-Tec, I swear, it is not what it looks like.

-Don't lie to me.



    

                   

That was my line

and it always was what it looked like.



    

                   

-What's going on with your boyfriend?

-I'd love to kick it with you...



    

                   

...and run this thizzang,

but I got business back in Bu...



    

                   

...something with Dre-Dre.

So if you don't mind--



    

                   

I do mind!



    

                   

Wait, Tec, let me explain.

Because I don't belong here.



    

                   

What, you done forgot already, fool?

I done told you.



    

                   

There's only one way out of the l- s.

And your E-ticket's in this here chamber.



    

                   

There it is. Did you see

how committed he was?



    

                   

That's the rage I was talking about.



    

                   

Tec, please don't be hating.



    

                   

I won't let you do it, Tec.



    

                   

Fine. Then I'll just do

the both of you, then.



    

                   

Damn, fool! You just hit my house!



    

                   

-Brad?

-Pops?



    

                   

It's Mr. Gluckman.



    

                   

Brad, you okay?



    

                   

Not really. And unless you

seriously strapped...



    

                   

...you about to not really be okay too.



    

                   

-Hi. Bill Gluckman, running for governor.

-We know who you are, fool.



    

                   

This dude thinks we ignorant

just because we live down here.



    

                   

-You better recognize.

-Well, I recognize.



    

                   

You know, I recognize that street violence

is tearing Californians apart.



    

                   

And, fellas, California is my family.



    

                   

Oh, and here's a thought.



    

                   

Instead of thinking of ourselves as what set

we're from, what crew you're rolling with...



    

                   

...why can't we just be brothers?

What do you say?



    

                   

I guess I never thought of it

like that before.



    

                   

-You see that?

-Please.



    

                   

What do we say, brothers?



    

                   

Get your ass out of here.



    

                   

Don't anybody know

where the goddamn driveway is?!



    

                   

Hadji?



    

                   

Y'all better step,

or I'm gonna have to waste y'all.



    

                   

-Yeah, drop your gats!

-No, drop your gats!



    

                   

Hold up, y'all! Before anybody

ices anybody, I got something to say.



    

                   

You really weren't gonna

pay my ransom?



    

                   

Oh, I didn't know anything about that.

You gotta believe me.



    

                   

-That was not part of the plan.

-What was the plan?



    

                   

Send me down here

to scare me white?



    

                   

I know, it was stupid. I tried everything,

I didn't know how to deal with you.



    

                   

That's because you don't know me...



    

                   

...and you never cared to find out.



    

                   

Listen, I made a lot of mistakes.

I know that. I'm not proud of myself.



    

                   

I wasn't there for you.



    

                   

I can't change that,

but I always loved you.



    

                   

And I still do. And if you say that this

is who you really are, I believe you.



    

                   

And I accept you.

And from here on in...



    

                   

...I promise to be a real father to you.



    

                   

-Talk is cheap. Prove it.

-Well, I'm here, ain't l?



    

                   

All right, Pops. We cool.



    

                   

Much love.



    

                   

I wish I could talk to my pops like that.



    

                   

No doubt.



    

                   

I'm gonna call that nigga right now.



    

                   

Would you get your emotional

gangsta ass together?



    

                   

We got business to handle.

Let's smoke these fools!



    

                   

Tec, before we all smoke each other,

can I say one little more thing?



    

                   

-What you got to say this time?

-Kick it freestyle, Moch.



    

                   

Stop.



    

                   

Stop. Stop it!



    

                   

You say one more line

and I'm gonna have to smoke myself!



    

                   

All right.



    

                   

But all these gats got to go.



    

                   

I'm serious, Tec.



    

                   

Ain't no more gats.



    

                   

B-Rad's right. All this hating is whack.



    

                   

Run!



    

                   

No, listen to me.

You really not listening to me.



    

                   

If this ain't rebuilt

by the time Moms get back...



    

                   

...it's on you.

You gonna get the punishment.



    

                   

You gonna laugh at me. You gonna

play me?! You know who you playing?



    

                   

I have two witnesses

who were at the scene of the explosion.



    

                   

-Can you tell us what happened?

-Oh, yeah, it was crazy, yo.



    

                   

All these crazy fools came over

strapped with they  s.



    

                   

I was just, like, telling the brothers,

" Let's talk about this.



    

                   

Let's talk this out.

Can't we all just get along?



    

                   

Let's find our common ground."

I was trying to keep the peace.



    

                   

Really, the explosion

was just a metaphor.



    

                   

A metaphor for anger within our hearts.



    

                   

-Because the white man--

-Okay, thank you, Bloodbath and Tree.



    

                   

All this mayhem is rumored

to have been caused...



    

                   

...by the mysterious White Kong,

who is still at large.



    

                   

This is Soon-Yee Baxter Hernandez

reporting from South Central.



    

                   

-Sorry, sir.

-Damn.



    

                   

Are you all right?



    

                   

You mean, besides the fact

that I just been harpooned?



    

                   

Yeah. No.



    

                   

-I'm confused.

-About what?



    

                   

I don't know what was real

and what wasn't.



    

                   

Well, I definitely could use

a little bit more of that reality.



    

                   

What's up? I thought the kitchen

was open for business.



    

                   

It is open, but you don't put your hands

in a sista's hair. Damn, fool.



    

                   

My bad.



    

                   

Here you go, boo.



    

                   

All right, here we go.



    

                   

Shondra's Salon is now

officially open for business.



    

                   

-The chickens be out the coop.

-Enjoy, ladies.



    

                   

Damn. She got in a fight with

a hair dryer. And the hair dryer won.



    

                   

Hold up, girl.



    

                   

I just wanna thank you.



    

                   

You the only person that accepted me

for who I really am.



    

                   

I appreciate that.



    

                   

You also kidnapped me, carjacked me

and tried to scare me white.



    

                   

I'm gonna let that one go.



    

                   

-Come here, boo.

-Come on.



    

                   

-My own little White Kong.

-That's right, White Kong.



    

                   

It's official: Bill Gluckman

is California 's next governor.



    

                   

Let's go live to the big celebration.



    

                   

Here he is, right here, y'all.

The man of the hour! Bill Gluckman, y'all!



    

                   

Go Gluck yourself!



    

                   

Great. We're gonna take it

to a whole new level.



    

                   

He became Black Superhero.



    

                   

Hello.



    

                   

What the fuck was that?



    

                   

Yeah, you got something to represent?

You got something for your--



    

                   

Yeah, you got something

to prove to yourself?



    

                   

Come on, Taye. Don't laugh, motherfucker!



    

                   

-Ain't he down?

-Yeah, Bloodbath. You down, fool.



    

                   

-You down, down fool.

-Oh, my God.



    

                   

-Oh, my God.

-You that weak fuck from the club!



    

                   

-You think I'm playing with you?

-Yeah, you playing.



    

                   

Open the door!



    

                   

Hey, yo, dog, you know

I'd love to stick it with you....



    

                   

Hey, yo, dog,

I'd love to kick it with you....



    

                   

You think I'm cute?

Look at me, man.



    

                   

-Look at me, black.

-Bitch ass--



    

                   

Hey, yo, dog,

I'd love to kick it with you....



    

                   

Hey, yo, dog,

I'd love to kick it with you and....



    

                   

I'd love to kick it with you

and run this whole thizzang...



    

                   

...but I got a little business.



    

                   

Hey!



    

                   

Cut.



    

                   

What the f* *k is that?



    

                   

Come on. Yo, you got something

to prove to yourself?



    

                   

Say it, don't spray it, motherfucker.



    

                   

Get your ass in there.



    

                   

Okay.



    

                   

-Bitch!

-Again!



    

                   

-Bitch!

-Again.



    

                   

Bitch! Give me it.



    

                   

Yo, y'all, this fine diamond's hooking

me up with Dr. Dre, Master P...



    

                   

...P. Diddy, Jay-z, Big Boy hisself!



    

                   

Mali-bootay?



    

                   

Pull.



    

                   

That's what I call blowing up for your ass.









  

 
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