Everybody Hates Chris, Season 3

Mr. Abbott:
[to Chris] According to your test results, you put the "upid" in "stupid."

Mr. Abbott:
Do you know how many broke people went to college?

Chris:
Not really.

Narrator:
Even while wearing a diaper, Greg could still run like the wind. The smelly wind.

Rochelle:
I had a dream. Every time I see Shirley Chisholm, I think, "Wow, hey, that could've been me." Yeah, I could've done a lot of things. I could've won a Pulitzer Prize.

Narrator (CR):
If she only learned to Pulitzer.

Rochelle:
I could've been a Poet Laureate.

Narrator(CR):
That don't rhyme!

Rochelle:
You know what? I even could've won a Cy Young Award.

Narrator:
If she could only throw a knuckleball.

Rochelle:
But instead I decided to raise your family.

Rochelle:
Look, Chris, I don't know what you're gonna do with your life. You may go to college, you may not. But know whatever you do, you're gonna be good at it. 'Cause I'll have no grown man sleepin' at my house.

Greg:
I settled on being an astronaut. I'm... I'm wearing a diaper.

Mr. Abbott:
A diaper? You mean, you wanna fly a rocket, but you're still gonna pee in your pants?

Greg:
Well, they don't make you do it, but I wanted to see if I could take it.

Mr. Abbott:
Nobody could take it, Greg. Now, get the funk outta my office.

Narrator:
My father loved thrift stores because you could trade in your old clothes for some new old clothes.

Julius:
Look, I can't afford to buy all-new school clothes.

Rochelle:
I guess that's one more thing you can't stand about your miserable life. My kids are not wearin' these, so you either get new clothes or new kids.

Narrator:
He's tryin' to figure out which one is cheaper.

Mr. Abbott:
[as Greg is about to go into his office wearing a dirty diaper] Nope, nope, nope. Get outta here, Funky Brewster.

Chris:
Can you help me?

Mr. Abbott:
Well, unless they hire Big Bird, I'm gonna have to.

Mr. Abbott:
You can learn anywhere, Chris. You can learn by reading a fortune cookie. If you get hit by a truck, you learn not to walk out into traffic. If you smack Mike Tyson, you learn that you are gonna get your ass whupped.

Narrator:
[as Yao fights Caruso] As far as I was concerned, this was better than Enter the Dragon.

Narrator:
Caruso looked about as happy as Bobby Brown at a health food store.

Narrator:
Clark Kent's got nothing on [my dad].

Chris:
Call me Stymie, Rochester, Tootsie Roll, Inkwell. Come on, man!

Caruso:
What are you doing?

Narrator:
Prompting an angry call from Bill Cosby.

Yao:
I'm failing math. I've got work to do. I don't have time for this.

Chris:
Wait, you're not good at math?

Yao:
What? Just because I'm Asian, I have to be good at math? You're black, can you moonwalk?

Chris:
I didn't mean it like that. And no, I can't moonwalk.

Yao:
So, I can't use chopsticks.

Chris:
I don't like watermelon.

Yao:
I can't make a swan out of paper.

Chris:
I don't have sickle cell anemia.

Yao:
I don't run a dry cleaners.

Narrator:
I bet you like rice!

Yao:
Either I pass my math class or it's your ass.

Narrator:
I had brought two fighters of different ethnicities together for a fixed fight. I felt just like Don King.

Caruso:
Hey, Fried Rice. What took you so long?

Yao:
Why don't you ask your mother?

Narrator:
Back on my dad's secret job, he didn't know it, but the shipment was about to hit the fan.

Narrator:
Caruso had made my life a livin' hell. He had beaten my ass every day and nothing kept him away. Not a 104-degree fever... [Caruso punches Chris in the face and sneezes] ...and not even a national summer holiday.

[Caruso arrives at Chris' door dressed as Uncle Sam]

Caruso:
Happy 4th of July, Sammy. [punches Chris]

Rochelle:
You got the gout, high blood pressure, arthritis, a bad back, the sniffles, an ingrown toenail, seborrhea, psoriasis, a strained ligament, dyspepsia and gastric reflux.

Narrator:
My mom was makin' a lotta sense. Unfortunately, all my dad heard was...

Rochelle:
You got the light bill, the gas bill, the phone bill, the heat bill, the water bill, car note, taxes, insurance, food, rent, clothes, heatin', coolin', washin', dryin'...

Narrator:
My mom thought it was work that gave my dad stress, but she was wrong. It was debt.

Chris:
Every superhero needs a villain. I mean, where would Superman be if it wasn't for Lex Luthor? He'd be at the Hall of Justice watchin' super-TV. And the Fantastic Four, where would they be if it wasn't for Dr. Doom? At the circus.

Narrator:
My mom had her own style of driving: The Fast and the Furious: Bed-Stuy Drift.

Narrator:
While my mother was out challenging the law, I was breaking it.

Narrator:
I was supposed to park across the street, but now I'm on the highway to hell.

Greg:
What are you doing?

Chris:
Moving [my dad's car] to the other side of the street.

Narrator:
Or to the other side of the borough.

White Girl:
Hey Chris. Can I sit in your car?

Chris:
Sure, why not?

Narrator:
Because they're underage.

Greg:
What's wrong?

Chris:
Everything.

Narrator:
I'm just glad we're in Brooklyn and not Alabama.

Narrator:
If Greg was here, he'd say I was in there.

Narrator:
When I got older, I was always asking my dad to let me drive.

Chris:
Hey Dad, can I drive?

Narrator:
And he always said the same thing.

Julius:
Drive? Sure, you can drive... as soon as you turn 16, go to driver's ed., get a driver's license, graduate from high school, get a job, get out of my house, get a car, get insurance. Yeah, then you can drive anytime you want.

Narrator:
He coulda just said no.

Julius:
Don't go burnin' up gas.

Chris:
I'm just moving the car across the street.

Julius:
That's three cents' worth of gas.

Narrator:
After all that had happened, I kept thinking about how my dad had trusted me. Even though I had managed to get the car back home without him knowing, it seemed like the right thing to do was tell the truth.

Chris:
Dad?

Julius:
Yeah, son?

Chris:
I have a confession to make. I drove your car to school today.

Julius:
You what?

Chris:
I'm sorry. I really am.

Julius:
Son, I'm very disappointed in you, but as long as you're safe, that's all that really matters.

Chris:
Thanks, Dad.

Julius:
But one more thing...

Chris:
Yes, Dad?

[Julius throws Chris out the window]

Narrator:
Since I got the car home and nobody got hurt, I figured the best thing to do was to keep it to myself and never do anything like that again.

Narrator:
To my parents and the police, the house had been robbed, but to Tonya and Drew, the TV had been kidnapped.

Chris:
I think we should get a dog.

Narrator:
I'd always wanted a dog, but my parents always said no. But maybe the robbery would make them change their mind.

Rochelle:
For the umpteenth time, Chris, we are not getting a dog.

Narrator:
Wishful thinking.

Narrator:
I tried monkey see, monkey do, which was quite useless with a dog.

Tonya:
Captain Kangaroo is so funny.

Old Woman:
Get outta here, you Peepin' Toms. I'm callin' the cops.

Narrator:
Tonya and Drew couldn't watch TV, but that didn't stop them from readin' it.

Drew:
Check this out. Matlock at 4:00. When Nashville star Dolly Parton gets arrested for murder, she turns to Ben Matlock.

Tonya:
Look at this: Moses Gunn is gonna be on The Jeffersons.

Drew:
Did you know that Little House on the Prairie was closed-captioned for the hearing impaired?

Tonya:
Stephanie Mills is gonna be on Captain Kangaroo!

Julius:
Blackie, get outta my chair!

Narrator:
He's guardin' it.

Narrator:
I loved Blackie, but I'm in trouble.

Narrator:
While I was getting help, my parents needed help.

Drew:
Hello. Is this Mr. Freely? Mr. I.P. Freely?

Carlos:
Blackie, ataca! ¡Ataca!

Narrator:
To y'all who don't speak Spanish, that means "attack."

Chris:
All the girls call me papi.

Greg:
"Papi?" You're so in there.

Rochelle:
Believe me, there have been many other problems.

Narrator:
One time the house flooded.

Rochelle:
Can we call the insurance company now?

Julius:
No. Now we have a swimming pool.

Narrator:
Another time a plane dropped a load.

Rochelle:
Can we call the insurance company now?

Julius:
No way. Now we have new luggage.

Narrator:
And another time, aliens took over.

Rochelle:
Now can I call the insurance company?

Julius:
No, I've always wanted to go to another planet.

Narrator:
I thought I'd never see Blackie again.

Chris:
Blackie, cómo estás? How are you?

Narrator:
And he thought he'd never seen me before.

Chris:
[Blackie growls] Blackie, remember, it's me, Chris, tu amigo. Hey papi, tranquilo. Papi, tranquilo. [Blackie chases him] No, no, no!

Background Singers:
Todo el mundo odia Chris. (Everybody hates Chris.)

Chris:
I'm training the dog in Spanish.

Julius:
Why?

Chris:
It's part of the attack-dog training. Like you can only talk to a German Shepherd in German or an Irish Wolfhound in Irish. [referring to Blackie] This is a Puerto Rican mutt.

Julius:
Well, I don't care what he speaks as long as he stays out of my chair and you turn him into a killer.

Chris:
Bueno. (Good.)

Julius:
¿Qué? (What?)

Chris:
Nada. (Nothing.)

Julius:
Forget this. I'm gettin' a gun.

Rochelle:
Julius, do you know what would happen if we got a gun?

Julius:
Who ate the big piece of chicken? [gets out a gun] You? Baby girl?

Rochelle:
[gets out two guns] Who left the damn toilet seat up? Huh?

Tonya:
Who ate all the cereal? [gets out a shotgun] I WILL BLOW YOUR FREAKIN' HEAD OFF!

Julius:
Chris, this is it. You got 48 hours to train that dog or he's dog food.

Narrator:
Dogs aren't used in dog food, but this wasn't a good time to correct my father.

Narrator:
Drew and Tonya finally settled on an activity they could both enjoy: prank phone calls.

Tonya:
Do you have pig's feet?

Woman on Telephone:
Yes. Yes, we do.

Tonya:
Well, if you wear shoes, nobody will notice.

Drew:
Hi, I'm just confirming that I have a hundred large pizzas ordered to Mr. Omar's funeral home?

Man on Telephone:
I'll check.

Drew:
Yes, OK. Thank you. Tragic.

Tonya:
Help!

Woman on Telephone:
911 emergency.

Tonya:
Help! They're choking me!

Drew:
Come here, woman! Shut up girl! Come here!

Woman on Telephone:
Stay calm, ma'am.

Drew:
Hey! Hey, get back here!

Narrator:
I love havin' a dog, and losin' Blackie made me really depressed. Plus, havin' the Lassie, Rin Tin Tin, Sounder, Turner & Hooch marathon on TV didn't help.

Narrator:
Not only did I learn Spanish, I also learned about a whole new world. A world that, ironically, wasn't too different from the world I already knew. There was a Puerto Rican Kill Moves, a Puerto Rican Doc, a Puerto Rican Risky, and even a Puerto Rican Jerome.

Puerto Rican Jerome:
Hey! Papi de otra calle! (Little dude from another street!) Lemme hold un dollar, papa. [Chris gives him a dollar]

Narrator:
Everything was different, but gettin' robbed still hurt.

Puerto Rican Jerome:
Gracias, hermano. (Thank you, brother.)

Manny:
Go talk to Kill Moves, 'cause Kill Moves has his ear to the street.

Julius:
What do you hear, Kill Moves?

Kill Moves:
Four riders, two on ponies.

Julius:
No! About my place gettin' robbed.

Kill Moves:
I didn't hear anything about that, but don't say I didn't warn you about the comin' Indian attack.

Julius:
They took my meat! All of it! Steaks, hamburgers, hot dogs, bologna!

Narrator:
If they stole that stuff earlier, maybe he wouldn't have the gout.

Greg:
Here's a couple books on dog training.

Chris:
You just happen to have books on dog training in your locker?

Greg:
I got lots of stuff in there. Let's see... I've got a bartender's guide, an auction catalog to fine crystal (mostly Lalique), How to Fly a Helicopter, The Idiot's Guide to Tic-Tac-Toe, a Gutenberg Bible, and a street guide to Baghdad. You never know.

Narrator:
That guidebook lists a lot more streets than they have left in Baghdad now.

Carlos:
This dog is a lover, not a fighter.

Narrator:
In fact, Blackie was such a lover, we have to go to commercial right now.

Chris:
[about the dog] Can we name him?

Julius:
He already has a name: Blackie.

Drew:
But he's brown.

Julius:
You black and you brown.

Narrator:
All I knew about Mr. Omar was he liked dead men and live women.

Narrator:
Now all I need is six white girls and a monkey.

Yao:
I have a quiz tomorrow on chapter seven. Either I pass it, or it's your ass.

Narrator:
It's not my ass's fault you suck at math.

Narrator:
A little butter and onions and Tonya would make a nice side dish.

Chris:
What time is it?

Mr. Omar:
8:45.

Narrator:
8:45 was a quarter past late as hell.

Ms. Morello:
Your Tardiness is excused, but you should tell your family to lay off the bacon.

Narrator:
Tonya went from healthy kid to guinea pig.

Rochelle:
Freeze! 'Cause I ain't raisin' no babies!

Narrator:
Kool-Aid's gone Rambo.

Jerome:
Put the tape on, little dude.

Narrator:
Get outta here, big dude.

Rochelle:
Is this remedy of yours gonna work?

Julius:
Oh, it'll work. It's been passed down for generations. My mother got it from my grandmother who got it from her great-grandmother who got it from a Puerto Rican lady.

Narrator:
My father's home remedies were legendary. If you had a headache...

Julius:
Baking soda and a pomegranate.

Narrator:
If you were nauseous...

Julius:
Catfish and grape jelly.

Narrator:
If you were blind...

Julius:
A tin cup and a white cane.

Narrator:
Hey, he couldn't cure everything.

Narrator:
After my mother got through with me, Tonya, and Mr. Omar, I realized that having privacy and being independent isn't all it's cracked up to be. But at least she didn't find out about Tasha.

Mr. Omar:
There's some videos over there you're welcome to watch. I've got Night of the Living Dead, Dawn of the Dead, Day of the Dead, Dead Zone, Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid, Death in Venice, Death Wish, Love and Death, Murder by Death, and Ososhiki a.k.a. Death, Japanese Style.

Chris:
Cool, thanks.

Narrator:
Turns out Mr. Omar only had one movie that wasn't about death: Richard Pryor: Live in Concert.

Greg:
You've got a place. Now all you need to do is get a girl. You're so in there. I can't imagine what I'd do if I had a place to myself.

Narrator:
I could.

[Greg is then seen alone and crying as "All By Myself" by Eric Carmen plays]

Chris:
Guess I am in there.

Greg:
You're so in there, we'd have to send a search party to find you.

Ms. Morello:
All men are created equal, especially if they're on CP Time.

Greg:
You can still get involved in an activity.

Chris:
Like what?

Greg:
I don't know. Something that plays into your strong suits.

Narrator:
Problem is, all I had were weak suits.

Chris:
I can't eat this. My peas are touching my mashed potatoes.

[Rochelle dunks Chris's head into the mashed potatoes]

Rochelle:
Are they separated now?

Chris:
Mm-hmm.

Rochelle:
[repeated line] Vote for Johnson!

Narrator:
I wonder if there's a Checkers Club?

Narrator:
After I changed my story, everybody else changed theirs.

Councilman Lamar Johnson:
Oh, this is a disaster!

Rochelle:
Can you believe what this is gonna do to the community?

Councilman Lamar Johnson:
I mean, why would you let your son Chris write a story like this when I'm tryin' to get reelected?

Rochelle:
What? You worried about bein' reelected when my son is out there about to be snipped to death by a scissor killer! Is that what you sayin' to me?!

Councilman Lamar Johnson:
Uh, n-no, no.

Narrator:
Yes!

Councilman Lamar Johnson:
I'm sayin', what would people think if I'm allowin' a serial killer to roam the neighborhood?!

Narrator:
I hadn't seen spin like that since Usher battled Omarion.

Narrator:
Did I just get mugged from a window?

Narrator:
After my mother set me straight, I had to set the story straight.

Ms. Morello:
You made it up?

Chris:
Well, I'm sorry. I was just giving the people what they want.

Lisa:
Oh, this is just great. All the real killers running around Bed-Stuy, and you had to make one up. That's just lazy. What else did you make up? Is your real name Chris? Are you even black? Who knows?

Doc:
I dated all the pretty women in Syracuse.

Narrator:
Both of 'em.

Doc:
Then I dated all the pretty women in Albany.

Narrator:
Now we're up to three.

Doc:
Then I dated all the pretty women in Pittsburgh.

Narrator:
OK, we're back at two.

Narrator:
Lisa hated my story, so I showed it to Ms. Morello, who loved anything black.

Ms. Morello:
Lisa's right. This isn't good.

Chris:
What's wrong with it?

Ms. Morello:
Chris, there's nothing worse than racial stereotypes. We've seen this a thousand times. The tall, shirtless black man, his ebony pecs glistening with sweat from working in the fields, his furrowed brow filled with savage lust. Where was I?

Chris:
I think you were talking about racial stereotypes.

Ms. Morello:
Oh, right. I want to read about the real black men who walk the gritty streets of the hood. People like Superfly, The Mack, Black Belt Jones, Truck Turner and Blacula. Tell me the truth about the pimps and the hustlers, the violence... all set to a jazzy beat!

Narrator:
Oh, there's a jazzy beat I want to give her, right upside the head!

Mr. Omar:
With Himelfarb in office, everything will fall naturally into place.

Rochelle:
OVER MY DEAD BODY!

Mr. Omar:
That would be tragic, but if it were to happen, you can rest assured I'll give Mr. Julius a nice discount.

Narrator:
When I turned in my story, Lisa read me the riot act.

Lisa:
You call yourself a writer? This is the worst story I've ever read. I just wasted 20 minutes of my life. Do you know how many trees died for you to write this? You're destroying the ozone layer. People are gonna get cancer.

Chris:
OK, OK. I get it. So, what's wrong with it?

Lisa:
Everything. I mean, who wants to read about some crusty old ghetto Romeo?

Chris:
Well, you told me to write about something I know, and I know this guy.

Lisa:
Well, if this is the best you can do, maybe you should think about doing something else.

Narrator:
Like the Chess Club?

Mr. Omar:
What kinda councilman got people campaignin' for him hollerin' outta windows? Vote for Himelfarb!

Rochelle:
How you gonna vote for somebody if you can't even spell their name?! Vote Johnson!

Mr. Omar:
We can't spell his name, 'cause Johnson ruined the schools. Vote Himelfarb! When I say "Himel," you say "Farb!" Himel!

Crowd:
Farb!

Mr. Omar:
Himel!

Crowd:
Farb!

Rochelle:
Well, at least Johnson ain't locked outta his own damn house! When I say "Locked," you say "Out!" Locked!

Crowd:
Out!

Rochelle:
Locked!

Crowd:
Out!

Rochelle:
That's what he is!

Narrator:
For most of my life, I'd never had a friend stay over at my house.

Greg:
If this isn't special, I'd hate to see her overdo it.

Rochelle:
Come, eat.

Narrator:
Help! My mother's possessed by a nice lady!

Rochelle:
Now, wait a minute. You know we say grace every night.

Chris:
No we don't.

Rochelle:
Yes we do. Shut up and bless the food.

Narrator:
If I didn't thank the Lord at the table, my mom was gonna send me to thank Him in person!

Narrator:
Greg had brought so much stuff, I couldn't tell if he was stayin' over or takin' over.

Chris:
You wearin' Transformers pajamas? Man, you're 15!

Greg:
I like to pray as different characters. That way God doesn't get bored with me. Tonight I'm Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots. [in a robotic voice] Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. Amen.

Narrator:
He should pray for some self-esteem!

Narrator:
Greg was drivin' me up the wall and my dad was about to get taken for a ride.

Julius:
Where to?

Eddie:
Las Vegas.

Julius:
Seriously, man, where to?

Eddie:
Las Vegas, Nevada.

Julius:
Man, you crazy. Get outta my cab!

Eddie:
Hey, no, seriously, brother, I really need to get to Las Vegas.

Julius:
Look, I cannot take you to Las Vegas!

Eddie:
Would you take me to Las Vegas for $1000?

Narrator:
For $1000, he'd take you to South Africa during the height of apartheid.

Narrator:
While my father set off for Sin City, I showed Greg around the original Sin City, Bed-Stuy.

[the kids are watching TV]

Greg:
What are you doing?

Chris:
Turning to MacGyver.

Greg:
But I wanted to watch NOVA.

Tonya:
NOVA?!? What is that?

Greg:
It's a show on PBS about science as it relates to the universe.

Drew:
Cool! That's almost like MacGyver.

Chris:
Just like Lawrence Welk is like Soul Train.

Rochelle:
Chris, Greg is your guest. Let him watch NOVA. [to Greg, serving dessert] Gelato?

Narrator:
Is that Italian for "Jell-O?"

Greg:
Thanks!

Narrator:
I thought havin' Greg stay over would be fun. Probably what the Indians thought when they first saw Columbus.

Narrator:
Not just his deposit, everybody's deposit.

Narrator:
Eventually, the phone company started hangin' up on my father.

Monk:
How come you don't do your homework like that, Chris?

Narrator:
Because I'm too busy cuttin' up boxes.

Julius:
Why don't you just fly to Vegas?

Eddie:
Oh, um... I'm, um... I'm claustrophobic.

Narrator:
Not to mention truthophobic!

Narrator:
Back at home, Greg and I were havin' our own stand-off, without the guns and the masculinity.

Narrator:
Meanwhile, in Las Vegas, my dad rolled the dice tryin' to reason with a madman.

Narrator:
Back at school, Greg was catching up on more than his studies.

Ms. Morello:
What year did the American Revolution begin, Greg? Greg?!?

Greg:
[waking up] 1942.

Ms. Morello:
Greg, what's wrong with you? You're usually so alert.

Chris:
It's because he's staying at my house for a week.

Ms. Morello:
Oh my God, he's drunk?!? Did he have a 40 for breakfast?

Greg:
I'm not drunk. I'm just not used to getting up so early.

Ms. Morello:
Don't be ashamed. Chris' people have a history of being up when the rooster crows to go to work in the fields. Who could expect you to keep up? Go back to sleep.

Narrator:
She was Don Imus in a dress.

Chris:
Hey, Greg. What's up?

Greg:
My dad's going out of town for a week. I have to stay with my grandmother. Not looking forward to it.

Chris:
Why not?

[Greg and his grandmother are at a German party and a banner saying "Willkommen Greg!" is above everyone]

Greg's Grandmother:
Left, right, left heel, right, left, right...

Julius:
[on the phone] Rochelle, it's me. Listen, I won't be home for dinner tonight. I have to take a passenger to Vegas.

Rochelle:
Vegas?! Julius, are you crazy? What about your regular job?

Julius:
I have a few sick days I can use. I'll be back by the end of the week.

Rochelle:
Julius, you are not drivin' that cab to Vegas.

Julius:
The guy's gonna pay me $1000.

Rochelle:
Get me Wayne Newton's autograph. Bye! [hangs up]

Greg:
[angrily] Why didn't you wake me up?

Chris:
You told me you didn't want me to do anything for you, so I didn't.

Greg:
That didn't mean I wanted you to let me sleep through school. I missed the quarterly history test!

Chris:
Well, maybe you shoulda gone to bed dressed as Superman. That way you coulda flown to school. [walks away]

Narrator:
Good thing he doesn't have heat vision.

Greg:
Hey, I just got a nickname!

Chris:
Hey, you just got robbed!

Narrator:
My dad had turned into Al Cowlings, and he didn't even know it.

Narrator:
If my dad were alive to see the price of gas today, it'd kill him.

Greg's Grandmother:
[to Greg] Why didn't you tell me they were Negroes? It's OK, but I would've appreciated a little warning.

Julius:
How was it havin' Greg over?

Chris:
Cool. Can he stay over again sometime?

Rochelle:
Are you nuts?! I never worked so hard in my entire life!

Drew:
And I want my bed back!

Tonya:
And she is not makin' me eat no more tofu.

Julius:
Whoa, you gave your brother's bed to Greg?!

Drew:
And you sit up here washin' dishes for the white man!

Tonya:
And that little TV show NOVA was boring!

Rochelle:
I'm tired of bein' a vegetarian short-order cook!

Greg:
I can't decide on a hairstyle. I'm stuck between Verdine White and Dr. J.

Manny:
I cannot cut your hair, Greg.

Greg:
Why not?

Manny:
First of all, your hair's not long enough to be Verdine White, and it's not curly enough to be Dr. J. I've never used these scissors on straight hair. I don't know what will happen. I'll start cuttin' your hair, man, sparks start flyin' everywhere, your whole head catch on fire. And I will NOT be sued by white people!

Julius:
I got a good feeling about you and Karen. What's goin' on?

Cop:
Come out with your hands up!

Eddie:
Look, before you picked me up, I robbed a bank.

Julius:
Robbed a bank?!

Eddie:
And every place we stopped since we left Jersey.

Narrator:
By 1986, I'd been workin' at Doc's for three years. Outside of gettin' robbed four times, sick on the pickles three times, and a double hernia, it was the single greatest job I ever had.

Doc:
Minimum wage. Shoot. There was a time when the maximum wage for black folks was zero.

Narrator:
I decided on an ultimatum.

Chris:
Doc, listen. I come in on time and I never leave early. I work hard, so I deserve minimum wage. And if you're not gonna give me a raise, I'm gonna have to leave. It's a matter of principles.

Doc:
Is that an ultimatum?

Narrator:
Well, is it?

Chris:
Yeah.

White Boy:
Sir, are you hiring?

Doc:
Well, am I?

Narrator:
I tried to get minimum wage while my father tried to get minimum sleep.

Narrator:
If I developed a drug problem, my next job might be President.

Rochelle:
Girl, I am so excited! So, what styles do you have in mind?

Vanessa:
Well, let me tell you about my follicular extravaganza.

Narrator:
My mother imagined herself in the Eiffel Tower, the helicopter, and the black smacker.

Narrator:
While my mother got a dye job, I went to get a job-job.

Narrator:
This was the first restaurant in Bed-Stuy without a bulletproof window. It was the bulletproof fish place, then the bulletproof salad bar, and the bulletproof hot dog stand.

Narrator:
The next day I got $3.35 worth of new job.

Mr. Fong:
What are you doing?

Chris:
Oh, I finished the dishes, so I decided to start my homework.

Mr. Fong:
No homework! You have work-work!

Chris:
But Doc always let me start my homework.

Mr. Fong:
Well, you are not at Doc's anymore! Go fix the menu numbers!

Narrator:
I was gettin' minimum wage and havin' minimum fun.

Chris:
Mr. Fong, can I ask you a question?

Mr. Fong:
All talk and no work makes Chris unemployed.

Narrator:
People found the idea of getting food delivered in Bed-Stuy unbelievable.

Doc:
Delivery in Bed-Stuy. Unbelievable!

Drew:
My brain froze.

Rochelle:
Well, you better thaw it out!

Narrator:
Delivering in Bed-Stuy was an adventure.

Julius:
You just can't quit every time you don't like something. What if Miles Davis quit the trumpet?

Chris:
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. What if George Washington Carver quit the peanut? What if B.B. King quit Lucille? What if Paul Robeson quit "Ol' Man River?" What if Bill Cosby quit Jell-O? What if Mr. T quit "pityin' the fool?" What if Stevie quit Wonderin'? What if Fat Albert quit the Cosby Kids? What if Ashford quit Simpson? What if Michael Jackson quit doin' the moonwalk? What if Diana Ross quit the Supremes?

Julius:
Diana Ross did quit the Supremes.

Chris:
You get my point.

Narrator:
Later, my mother's tsunami came crashin' down in waves. [Rochelle falls over] Hair today, gone tomorrow.

Narrator:
The tsunami turned into Hurricane Rochelle.

Rochelle:
Julius is never gonna sleep with me again and everybody's gonna think I'm...

Narrator:
My mom's career as a hair model was over faster than Pacman Jones' career as a citizen.

Greg:
OK, Smartypants, do I say "hi?" Do I say "hello?" Or maybe "hey?" Or even "hey, hi?" The possibilities are endless! We haven't even gotten to what I'll be wearing.

Narrator:
I know what you'll be wearing: a look of frozen terror.

Female Chef:
[speaking Chinese] You look like Lionel Richie.

Narrator:
About as much as you look like Yoko Ono.

Narrator:
No matter what I did, it seemed like I was supposed to be doin' somethin' else.

Chinese Chef:
[speaking Chinese] You're sweeping my foot, fool!

Narrator:
When I washed the floors...

Mr. Fong:
Lionel Richie, set the tables!

Narrator:
When I set the tables...

Mr. Fong:
Lionel! Organize the fortune cookies!

Narrator:
When I organized the fortune cookies...

Mr. Fong:
5:30! Lionel Richie, go wash the dishes!

Narrator:
He wouldn't talk to the real Lionel Richie like that.

Mr. Fong:
He who sleeps at work wakes up with a foot in the ass.

Mr. Fong:
Lionel Richie, you're back just in time for another delivery.

Chris:
I'm not goin' back out there. This neighborhood is too dangerous for deliveries. You're basically sendin' me out there with a sign sayin', "Hey, I got money. Please rob me." Plus, I almost got shot.

Mr. Fong:
My nephew has been shot by the Chinese army seven times.

Mr. Fong's Nephew:
[speaking Chinese] In the face!

Narrator:
He should stop attackin' China.

Narrator:
If you listen closely, you'll learn how to say the "N" word in Chinese.

Greg:
I've been having a hard time with my Mandy situation. This girl could be my future ex-wife, and I don't wanna mess it up.

Narrator:
Greg still isn't over his parents' divorce.

Narrator:
After two years at Corleone, I'd gotten used to bein' the only black kid, but it had two major downsides. One downside was I was the only black kid, and the other was I was the only black kid.

Ms. Morello:
Let's celebrate the day Chris' people finally realized they were emancipated! Happy Juneteenth, Chris! [blows a party horn in Chris' face]

Narrator:
I thought things would never change, but then Albert arrived.

Narrator:
Cool or not, Albert and I were two of a kind.

Narrator:
The only one who wasn't looking forward to Albert bein' at Corleone was Greg.

Albert:
Man, I was glad to see you. When I first got here, I thought it was gonna be like my last school, where I was the only black kid. They really gave me a hard time over there! I got beat up almost every day.

Chris:
Same here.

Chris:
I told you I'd be back.

Greg:
Yeah, but for how long, Chris? For how long?

Narrator:
That concludes another episode of "As the Nerd Turns."

Ms. Morello:
Chris, you must be so happy. You must feel just like Jackie Robinson when Larry Doby arrived.

Narrator:
More like Robert Parish when Dennis Johnson showed up.

Chris:
Who's Larry Doby?

Ms. Morello:
He was the second black man in baseball, but he was taller than Jackie... and more... strapping. His strong shoulders and Nubian profile, his Cleveland Indians uniform complimented by the rich caramel color of his skin, and the way he swung his bat.

Narrator:
Forget jungle fever, she's havin' a jungle seizure!

Ms. Morello:
[to Chris] After years of being alone and ostracized, you now have a soul brother! Somebody to talk jive with and to shoot dice with, to talk about being raised by MaDear with. Just seeing the two of you together would make your leaders like Dr. King and Uncle Remus proud.

Narrator:
A tax refund check is like a bonus for broke people: a bonus which my mother accepted with grace and class.

Rochelle:
Kiss my ass, Visa!

Narrator:
Visa was actually the name of the lady who collected bills for MasterCard.

Narrator:
Anyone who says money can't buy happiness never saw my mother with her IRS refund couch.

Chris:
What do you want me to say? We have a lot in common. He gets stuff that you don't.

Greg:
Like what?

Narrator:
Sickle cell anemia.

Narrator:
How can my life be much of a soap opera with no women involved?

Narrator:
Ms. Morello was right. Hangin' out with Albert was cool, but I still felt bad about fightin' with Greg.

Caruso:
There goes the neighborhood.

Albert:
Hey, my dad's got an extra ticket to the Knicks game. He said I could bring somebody. You wanna go?

Chris:
Are you kidding me? Heck yeah, I wanna go! Thanks, man.

Ms. Morello:
Who would possess the vulgar cultural background and raw, angry street talent to do something like this?

Narrator:
I'll give you one guess, and it starts with Albert.

Rochelle:
Now, eat the damn cereal!

Narrator:
Eat The Damn Cereal, comin' soon from Kellogg's!

Narrator:
My dad wasn't the only one who was stressed because of that refund.

Narrator:
It's better to hang out with friends that get you out of trouble, not into it. If only 2Pac had known that.

Rochelle:
Julius, is something wrong with your food?

Julius:
No, uh, I'm just not hungry.

Narrator:
For my father to waste food, that could only mean one thing: hell must've frozen over.

The Devil:
Damn, it's cold!

Julius:
I can't stop worryin' about this refund. I keep havin' these nightmares. The government's gonna take all we own and we have to end up livin' in the street.

Rochelle:
That is not gonna happen.

Narrator:
It happened to Redd Foxx.

Chris:
I changed my mind about the game.

Albert:
I didn't really wanna go with you anyway!

Narrator:
This is just like when Bobby Brown left New Edition.

Narrator:
When it came to our friendship, we didn't see color.

Caruso:
Hey Count Chocula. Hey Cap'n Crunch.

Narrator:
Never woulda happened if I'd convinced Greg to wear blackface.

Narrator:
Cleanin' up Kill Moves was tougher than cleanin' up New Orleans after Katrina.

Tonya:
Can I have some money to buy a Christmas present for my friend Monica?

Julius:
I'm afraid that's not in accordance with the principles of Kwanzaa.

Narrator:
Or my father's cheapness!

Ms. Morello:
This year, my holiday gift to you is a homework assignment.

Narrator:
I'm glad I didn't get her anything.

Narrator:
Kill Moves and his mother taught me a valuable lesson: No matter what you celebrate, the holidays should be spent with people you love.

Greg:
I'm gonna do what I do every Christmas at the old folks' home.

Chris:
What's that?

Greg:
Pose for pictures dressed as baby Jesus.

Narrator:
I posed for pictures as big baby Jesus. R.I.P., ODB.

Narrator:
Christmas was my mother's favorite time of year. She loved the food, and she loved the decorations. My father, on the other hand, hated Christmas. He hated the food.

Rochelle:
I need to go grocery shoppin'.

Narrator:
And he hated the decorations.

Rochelle:
We need decorations.

Chris:
Mom, Kathleen Devereaux, 551 East 63 Street.

Greg:
Dude, that's on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Do you know what kind of people live there?

Narrator:
White people and Spike Lee.

Narrator:
Since there was no "Kwanzaa Eve" celebration for my family, Christmas Day turned into just another Wednesday.

Drew:
Aren't there any Kwanzaa shows on?

Narrator:
Yeah. The Bob Hope Kwanzaa Special.

Rochelle:
Everything is about Christmas.

Julius:
Our ancestors played games and told stories.

Rochelle:
Because our ancestors didn't have TV.

Drew:
See? That's Kwanzaa's second principle, kujichagulia-- self-determination.

Rochelle:
Kuji-what?

Julius:
We define ourselves. We don't need the man tellin' us what to watch.

Mr. Omar:
What's wrong with y'all? You look like the Grinch stole your Christmas.

Julius:
We're not celebratin' Christmas this year. We're celebratin' Kwanzaa.

Drew:
Yeah, we're tired of being consumed by this capitalistic nation's mindless consumerism.

Mr. Omar:
Tragic.

Kathleen:
Baby, it's so good to see you. I've been very worried.

Kill Moves:
It's good to see you too, Mom.

Kathleen:
How have you been?

Kill Moves:
Homeless.

Kathleen:
Other than that.

Kill Moves:
Good. You know, watchin' my diet. I get a lotta exercise, and I don't talk to space people as much as I used to. Except for Gazoo.

Kathleen:
Of course.

Kathleen:
And who are you?

Chris:
Oh, I'm Chris.

Kathleen:
Welcome to my home, Chris.

Chris:
Looks like a department store.

Kathleen:
Well, this is my favorite time of year.

Vanessa:
Hey, slick, if you wasn't a psychotic, homeless bum, I'd go out with you.

Kill Moves:
Get in line, sister. Get in line.

Julius:
What's Kwanzaa?

African Expert:
Kwanzaa is celebrated for seven days after Christmas and emphasizes principles of family, community and culture. This peaceful African holiday was the great idea of Dr. Maulana Karenga. Later, one of his bad ideas led him to prison for four years for felonious assault and false imprisonment. Although Kwanzaa has enjoyed limited success, felonious assault swept the nation and continues to thrive throughout the African-American community today.

Narrator:
After 15 bottles of shampoo and a Silkwood shower, our job was complete.

Vanessa:
You're done.

Kill Moves:
Ooh-ee! I look like a young Cleavon Little.

Narrator:
More like an old Clifton Davis.

Narrator:
While Tonya wouldn't speak about Kwanzaa, Drew was ready to start speakin' Swahili.

Drew:
The first principle of Kwanzaa is umoja; unity. That means us black people gotta stick together.

Narrator:
Well, that's it for Kwanzaa.

Narrator:
All I wanted was some Southern hospitality, but all I got was Northern hostility.

Drew:
I don't like down South. People act too country.

Narrator:
They're not acting.

Tonya:
[looking at a family photo] Hey Ma, who's that?

Rochelle:
Oh, that's your Cousin Beanie! You know what? She's 12, just like you.

Narrator:
Except Cousin Beanie's not evil.

Narrator:
I tried to bring Greg up to speed on the new direction of the South.

Greg:
Down South? You mean, like, across the Mason-Dixon Line?

Chris:
Yeah. You know, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, South Carolina.

Greg:
Mississippi? Are you trying to get yourself killed? You going to Mississippi is like me going to... hmm, I don't know, Mississippi.

Tonya:
Ma, I'm hungry. Can we get a snack?

Rochelle:
Are you nuts?! Have you seen the rats in this place?

Drew:
Let's just go home and eat there.

Narrator:
Same rats, different borough.

Narrator:
After my mother convinced Uncle Louis to fly, we headed to Port Authority, the only place in New York scarier than our neighborhood.

Rochelle:
OK, I want y'all to be real careful in here. This place is full of pickpockets, pimps, and... and, and murderers and child molesters and thieves.

Narrator:
That's the Port Authority slogan.

Narrator:
I was a bad boy long before Will Smith and Martin Lawrence.

Maître D':
Young man, I'm going to have to ask you to take your feet off the table.

Chris:
And what if I don't?

Maître D':
Then I'm going to have to ask you to leave.

Drew:
Maybe we can bring somebody.

Rochelle:
Wait a minute. This sounds like a nice place. We can't just bring somebody.

Narrator:
We thought about bringin' Vanessa.

Vanessa:
I dated a French guy once. I can't stand French food. I mean, hors d'oeuvres. Who wants a piece of liver on a toothpick? [to a waiter] You got any chimichangas?

Narrator:
We thought about Jerome.

Jerome:
Excuse me, garçon, can we get some more silverware?

Waitress:
I just put some out.

Jerome:
I don't know what happened to it. [it is then revealed that he stole some silverware]

Narrator:
We even thought about Mr. Omar.

[a woman is trying to save her choking husband]

Rochelle:
Oh, my God! He's chokin'! Help him!

Mr. Omar:
Hold on! There's nothing we can do.

Woman:
But he's still choking! [her husband dies]

Mr. Omar:
Not anymore. Tragic!

Narrator:
Friends don't let friends die lonely.

Greg:
Dude, once a friend, always a friend. It's the Westermarck effect.

Chris:
West what?

Greg:
Edward Westermarck. He was a scientist. He concluded that when two people live together in close proximity during the early years of life, they will never become boyfriend and girlfriend.

Narrator:
That means I still have a chance with Shakira.

Narrator:
I thought it was bad, but then I found out I wasn't the only guy that didn't know anything about women.

Jerome:
Girls like it when you give them compliments. [to a woman] Hey baby, I'm no Fred Flintstone, but I can make your Bedrock.

Woman:
Shut up, idiot.

Jerome:
I wasn't even talkin' to her.

Tasha:
[seeing an X-ray of Chris' butt with Rochelle's shoe stuck in it] Is this your X-ray?

Chris:
Yeah.

Tasha:
Boy, you so crazy.

Narrator:
Crazy like a boy with a shoe up his butt.

Narrator:
Watchin' Slaver Slav, I learned the most important thing about bein' a bad boy: When it comes to girls, the meaner, the better, and whatever you do, don't be nice.

Dr. Information:
Slaver Slav is the preeminent bad boy of rap, the top recording act at Setback Records. He's responsible for the hit album "I'm Smackin' and Stabbin' Somebody." At the tender age of 16, Slaver Slav was released from prison after serving 17 years for aggravated battery. This is Slaver Slav's first mugshot... [we see a mugshot of Slaver Slav as a fetus in his mother's womb] but it wasn't his last. He released his first single "Put Me in Jail Again and I'll Smack the Stank Off You" about a month later. The rest is history.

Julius:
I've got good news.

Rochelle:
You finally kicked the gout?

Julius:
No.

Tonya:
Chris isn't your real son?

Julius:
No.

Drew:
Lionel Richie is back with The Commodores?

Julius:
No.

Chris:
Did you trade Tonya to the devil for cable?

Julius:
No. I am Employee of the Month.

Narrator:
My father would take a coupon from Osama bin Laden.

Narrator:
When I was 15 going on 16, the one thing I wanted most was a kiss from a girl, and I didn't care who it was, as long as she wasn't in my family!

Drew:
Hey man, you still like Tasha?

Narrator:
Does Angelina Jolie like black babies?

Chris:
So, have you ever kissed anyone?

Greg:
[Scoffs] Have I? You gotta be kidding me.

Chris:
[Flatly] Cousins don't count.

Greg:
Oh. Then no.

Greg:
[To Chris] Are you sure you really wanna play Spin-The-Bottle? I mean, there's always the chance you'll end up kissing someone that's... I don't know, let's just say...

Narrator:
Ugly!

Tonya:
[To Chris] What are you looking at?

Narrator:
About five to ten when I drown you in that cereal bowl.

Narrator:
[As Tasha spins the bottle] Please, please, please. [Bottle doesn't land on Chris] Damn, damn, damn!

Narrator:
The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Now, let's get to commercial before I start cursin'.

Chris:
What do you know about Gretzky?

Drew:
Well, I know he's a season all-time assist leader, his mom loves soup, and he has a sandwich named after him called "The Great One."

Chris:
What's in it?

Drew:
Hmm... Canadian bacon, maple syrup... Oh, and a pickle. Oh, and it comes in a bun shaped like a hockey stick.

Chris:
Sounds awful.

Drew:
I never had one. It was invented by this chef named Jean Lafleur.

Chris:
Man, you know way too much stuff about this guy, Drew.

Narrator:
Ridin' on that bus, I had two goals: to get the autograph and to get back home.

Narrator:
Drew had a point. Besides Greg, there was only one person who would care if I wasn't in school.

Caruso:
[elbowing Greg in the ribs] Morning, shoeshine.

Greg:
I'm not black. Why'd you do that?

Caruso:
I don't know where Chris is.

Drew:
This doesn't look like Long Island.

Chris:
It's not. This is Coney Island!

Narrator:
If this was Survivor, I'd vote Drew off the island.

Drew:
When we get there, I'm gonna have to buy you one of those sandwiches.

Narrator:
Might as well buy me a heart attack with a side of diabetes.

Rochelle:
I'm up, OK?! Are you happy now?! I mean, what does a woman have to do to get some rest around here, get shot?!

Mr. Omar:
If you know of any young men who would like to learn about the wonderful world of death, this scholarship is worth $250.

Narrator:
Sounds like ticket money to me!

Doctor:
There are various techniques that you can use to avoid injury while delivering an ass-whupping. There's the Two-Cheek Cross, the Roundhouse Booty Buster, or my personal favorite, the Kunta Kinte Will Breaker. In the wrong hands a beating can be called child abuse, but in the right hands it could be the difference between raising a Bill Gates or a Bobby Brown.

Narrator:
At the Death Jubilee, I was beginnin' to realize that the BFD was a bunch of BS.

Narrator:
My dad held on to money so tight, George Washington couldn't breathe.

Rochelle:
[Serving dinner, which consists only of toast] See, I got wheat toast and white toast and raisin and crust and crustless.

Narrator:
No pumpernickle?

Rochelle:
Mommy also has grape jelly, strawberry jelly, hot sauce...

Narrator:
Hot sauce?!

Rochelle:
...cinnimon,

Narrator:
Hot sauce?

Rochelle:
...honey, and syrup to dip your crust in.

Chris:
Hot sauce?

Julius:
[To Tonya] Um, did you finish up those quarters like I asked?

Tonya:
Yep, ten rolls.

Julius:
[smiles] Good girl.

Drew:
Hey Chris, can you pass me the hot sauce?

Narrator:
Hot sauce?

Chris:
[to Malvo] Sir, you are smarter than a ninth-grader.

Chris:
Malvo!

Malvo:
What?!

Chris:
I've decided to help you.

Malvo:
[to a kid he's frightening] Looks like I won't be needing you after all, four-eyes!

Julius:
What are you doin' to save the Earth?

Chris:
I'm recycling cans, and the money I make I'm going to use to help the environment.

Narrator:
Just like the Republicans.

(Chris suggests that for his Earth Day project, he collect and recycle cans)

Mrs. Morello:
(Sarcastically) That's wonderful! Then you can take the money and do something for the environment! You can plant a tree!

Narrator:
Maybe I can plant my foot in your be---

(Opening sequence cuts him off)

Rochelle:
"I'M BAAAACCCCKKKKKKK!!!

Narrator:
At 15, I was sick of bein' a nerd. When you're a nerd, people you want to pay attention to you ignore you, and the people you wish would ignore you, pay attention. And I was done with it.

Narrator:
From now on, I was gonna be cool. Cool guys got everything: girls, cars, girls, money, girls.

Chris:
How am I gonna get a girl from this school to go with me?

Greg:
Just ask somebody.

Chris:
I did. I asked Lisa, Sydney, Darlene and they all said no.

Narrator:
I even asked Ms. Morello.

Ms. Morello:
Chris, I'm really flattered, but no.

Narrator:
Where's Mary Kay Letourneau when you need her?

Narrator:
My Uncle Ryan was Drew's favorite uncle because he was a dreamer, and his dream was to open a successful business. He had some bad ideas.

Ryan:
Fried bread crust.

Drew:
Fried bread crust?

Ryan:
Some people like the inside of the bread. This is for people that like the outside.

Narrator:
This is for people who like bypass surgery.

Julius:
[eating a bread crust] How much you need?

Narrator:
And a couple of good ideas.

Ryan:
They got 31 flavors of ice cream, I got 31 flavors of chocolate milk. Swiss chocolate, cinnamon chocolate, raspberry chocolate, maple chocolate, peanut butter chocolate. You gotta get in on this.

Julius:
Well, what flavor is this?

Ryan:
This is milk chocolate.

Drew:
Milk chocolate chocolate milk?

Narrator:
Official drink of diabetes.

Narrator:
When it came to dances, there were two kinds: the white kind and the black kind.

Chris:
Why would I go to that dance, anyway? It's just a bunch of people who hate me, hating me in a room while dancing.

Narrator:
We could film it and call it Dancing with the Bigots.

Narrator:
Voltron hadn't taken a shower in years.

Narrator:
On Mother's Day, all I could do was hope my mom didn't know the difference between Pure Voodoo and Pure Voo-don't.

Greg:
Hey, check out what I made for my mom for Mother's Day: macaroni pajamas.

Chris:
Don't you think you're a little bit too old to be making macaroni presents?

Narrator:
When Greg got engaged, he gave his fiancée a piece of rigatoni.

Narrator:
The problem with going to department stores is every time a black person enters, they get followed. It didn't matter if you were a baby wearing diapers or a senior citizen wearing diapers... or even one of their own.

White Security Guard:
He's on the move.

Black Security Guard:
What do you mean, "I'm on the move?" I work here!

White Security Guard:
Sorry. Force of habit.

Narrator:
You'd think it'd be Christmas, and it might have been if Jesus cleaned our house and cooked our meals.

[Jesus appears to serve the family meatloaf]

Tonya:
That smells good.

Jesus:
Who wants meatloaf?

Chris:
Hey Dad, what you gettin' Mom for Mother's Day?

Julius:
Me? Why should I get anything? It's Mother's Day, not Wife's Day.

[Rochelle says that the kids always give her great Mother's Day gifts]

Chris:
No we don't! We just make you some stupid gift out of macaroni

Tonya:
My macaronni oven mitts were not stupid!

Drew:
You're right. They weren't nearly as stupid as your macaronni hotcon.

Tonya:
Shut up!

Narrator:
Or your macaronni macaronni bowl.

Adult Tonya:
[narrating] Hey, you shut up, too.

Narrator:
Get outta my voice-over booth, woman! Save that for the show, "Everybody Hates Tonya"!

Adult Tonya:
[narrating] Whatever.

Narrator:
I wanted to give my mother something nice because all I could think of was how much she sacrificed. She sacrificed at home.

Rochelle:
OK, who wants pizza? [the rest of her family each grabs a slice]

Narrator:
And she sacrificed on the street.

[it is cold outside]

Tonya:
Thanks for your coat, Momma.

Rochelle:
That's OK, baby. I like the cold.

Perfume Clerk:
The perfume contains up to 20% more aromatic compounds than the eau de toilette, and is classified by the olfactive family, though it does not exist as a true, singular aromatic material, whereas the eau de toilette contains up to five to ten...

Narrator:
You can see the rest of this 20-minute speech over at PerfumeNut.net.

Narrator:
Mother's Day was two days away, and I was up the creek without a present.

Narrator:
Choosin' to shoplift was the worst decision I had ever made. Even a Turkish prison would be nice compared to what my mother would do if she found out I stole.

[Chris is then shown in a Turkish prison, locked in ankle stocks with another prisoner, who screams in agony as an interrogator whips his feet]

Rochelle:
[off-screen] CHRIS!! Boy, where you at!?

Chris:
My mother's coming! Kill me now! Kill me now! KILL ME NOW!!

Rochelle:
You better not get on stage and embarrass me in front of a bunch of white people, or else I'm gonna smack the pomp outta your circumstances.

Ms. Morello:
It looks like you're going to Tattaglia after all.

Chris:
But this isn't fair!

Ms. Morello:
I know, but always remember this: When you get to the other side of the river, the streets of heaven will be lined with gold for you, me, and all God's children.

Narrator:
I was still in shock, so I didn't have the presence of mind to smack her upside the head and run.

Greg:
You know, we can't let this happen. Starsky and Hutch didn't break up.

Narrator:
They were both white.

Greg:
Butch and Sundance didn't break up.

Narrator:
White again.

Greg:
Crockett and Tubbs didn't break up.

Narrator:
Tubbs thought he was white.

Ryan:
You know what would be a good idea? A show about cops arrestin' people.

Narrator:
But what would you call it?

Narrator:
Graduatin' from Corleone was one of the best days of my life because I was surrounded by my family, and this was the one day I wasn't gonna get punched, kicked, beat down or talked about.

Rochelle:
[to Mr. Perkins] Where are you gettin' this information?

Narrator:
I'll tell you where he's gettin' it.

Ms. Morello:
Unfortunately, I think Chris is a crack baby. The mother's a little delusional. Her brain is addled by years of drug abuse and cheap wine spo-dee-o-dee. She's actually convinced herself that she has a husband who works two jobs and that they own a house in the ghetto. You can't believe a word she says.

Chris:
"Dad.."

Julius:
"Yeah, son?"

Chris:
"I have a confession."

Chris:
"I drove your car to school today."

Julius:
"You what?"

Chris:
"I'm sorry. I really am!"

Julius:
"Son, I'm very disappointed in you, but as long as your safe.. That's all that really matters"

Chris:
"Thanks.. Dad"

*brief pause*

Julius:
"But one more thing.."

Chris:
"Yes, dad?"

*Julius tosses Chris out of the front window*

Narrator:
[After Rochelle catches Julius doing his secret job] If that's what my mother looks like catching my father with another job, no wonder he never had another woman.

Tasha:
I don't think you're supposed to have your feet on the table.

Chris:
Ain't nobody ask you.

Maître D':
Young man, I'm gonna have to ask you to take your feet off the table.

Chris:
What if I don't feel like it?

Maître D':
Then I'm gonna have to ask you to leave.

Chris:
[stands up] What if I don't feel like doing that, either?

Maître D':
You're with the Employee of the Month, aren't you?

[Chris argues with the Maître D', offscreen]

Rochelle:
What is goin' on over there?

Julius:
Is that Chris?

Rochelle:
[outraged] What?

[Chris yells at Maître D' in slow-mo, with "Everybody Plays the Fool" playing in the background]

[Normal speed]

Rochelle:
[yells] CHRIS!

Chris:
[angrily] WHAT?!

[heartbeat thumps as Rochelle gets furious at Chris, who is shocked with an "Oh, crap!" look on his face. Scene cuts to hospital.]

Rochelle:
Hey, baby.

Chris:
[weakly] Ma?

Doctor:
How's everything going in here?

Rochelle:
Doctor, is he going to be okay?

Doctor:
[about the X-ray of Rochelle's shoe stuck in Chris' butt] Well, I think we'll be able to get it out, but you won't be able to wear that shoe again. Hang in there, big guy.

Rochelle:
How you feeling, sweetie?

Chris:
Not too good.

Rochelle:
Well, why were you acting like that?

Chris:
Just trying to impress Tasha.

Rochelle:
[confused] By acting like an idiot?

Chris:
No. She said she liked bad boys, like Flavor Flav. Trying to act like him.

Narrator:
Without the money.

Rochelle:
Baby, you can only be who you are. If she doesn't want you, then you don't want her.

Narrator:
That day, I learned the most important lesson in life: Be yourself, or get a pump in your ass.

Rochelle:
Mommy's gonna get you some ice chips, okay?

Narrator:
Better get a shoehorn, too.

Rochelle:
[to Tasha] Hi, sweetie.

Tasha:
[to Rochelle] Hi. [to Chris] Hey, Chris.

Chris:
Tasha?

Tasha:
Yeah. Are you okay?

Chris:
Yeah, I'll be fine. I just wanted to apologize for acting like such an idiot. Forgive me?

Tasha:
Yeah, it's okay. That's what friends are for.

Narrator:
Thanks, Dionne Warwick.

Tasha:
[seeing Chris' X-Ray.] Is this your X-ray?

Chris:
Yeah.

Tasha:
Boy, you so crazy.

Narrator:
Crazy like a boy with a shoe up his butt.

[Chris cries in pain]

Tonya:
[As she walks into the bathroom as Chris starts kissing his reflection in the mirror] Ugh! What is wrong with you?

Narrator:
Can't a boy kiss himself in the mirror in peace?

(Rochelle just went back to yelling)

Rochelle:
"I'M BAAAACCCCKKKKKKK!!!

"""Rochelle:
So, Tonya, I know you heard me scream yesterday.

"""Rochelle:
No, it doesn't make any sense, but it so happens to be true

"""Narrator:
Like When Bush Got Re-elected.

"""Narrator:
BAck at home, my mother needed help too.

Narrator:
Having my father help me with my Earth Day project seemed like a great idea until he found out about it