Everybody Still Hates Chris (2024) s01e13 Episode Script

1
[upbeat music]
- When I was 17, I felt like
I didn't belong anywhere.
I didn't belong at home.
[sighs]
Didn't belong
in my neighborhood.
- Have fun at
fancy school, nerd.
all: Bobby Brown High forever!
- [sighs]
And if I have to tell you
I didn't belong at school,
then you haven't watched
a damn second of this show.
Ow!
[groans]
But one person always made
me feel like I belong.
OK, two people.
[dings]
But my favorite was her.
She was my in
with everyone on the block.
Hey, Tasha.
Hey, guys.
- Hey, Chris.
all: Hey, Chris.
- And the only other
person at school who didn't
belong suddenly belonged.
- Whoa.
You'll never guess
what happened--
I made the basketball team.
- You made the basketball team?
How?
You're bad at every sport.
[whistle blows]
- Whoa!
[groans]
[gasps]
Whoa!
[gurgles]
[exciting music]
♪
Ah!
[whimpers]
- How did this happen?
Did the gym explode with
the basketball team inside it?
- Even though the gym does
have a gassy smell, no.
Coach Thurman was watching
some kids beat me up,
but they never kicked my nuts
because I defended them.
So he thought I'd
make a good defender.
- I'm happy for
and jealous of you.
I've never really
been on a team.
- Well, you're in luck,
because there's one spot left.
- There is?
That "spot" was
for the towel boy.
Ugh!
That wasn't my first
jock strap to the face,
and it wouldn't be my last.
Ow, that's nasty.
[upbeat hip-hop music]
♪
- Drew, I'll give
you a dollar if you
slap yourself across the face.
- [grunts]
I would have done it for free.
- Rochelle, he's got to go!
[both gasp]
both: Drama.
- Who are you talking about?
- Let it be Chris, let it
be Chris, let it be Chris.
both: Stay out
of grown folks' business.
- But, Mama!
- Living room, now!
Rochelle, Mr. Omar
is 63 days, 17 hours,
and 42 minutes late with rent.
- We're not going
to kick the man out.
He's a good tenant.
We're like family.
- The only way
he's like family is
that he takes advantage of us.
He's gotta pay up or go.
- I love it when you're
stern and demanding.
- We're too poor for
me to be in the mood.
- Fine, we'll look
for a new tenant.
[both gasp]
- In the '80s,
budget cuts hit hard,
so our football coach
was forced into basketball.
- You fumbled the ball!
They're punting!
Small boy, tackle him!
- [pants, grunts]
- Damn it, small boy.
You got sacked.
- Now, that one actually works.
Greg, bring it in.
When you don't belong
anywhere,
you spend a lot of time
watching the Knicks
and imagining
they're your friends.
So I picked up a few things.
Remember, Greg,
stay low, box out--
and stop looking
at cheerleaders' boobs!
- [grunts]
[upbeat music]
- Good D, Greg!
- Hmm.
OK.
- Hello?
Anyone here?
[both scream]
- Miss Tonya, Mr. Drew,
I'm dead.
Tell your parents.
- Mr. Omar, you're the
best tenant we've ever had.
We want to help you
with your late rent.
- You're-- you're
giving me money?
[laughs]
- No, we're broke-ass kids.
- Ugh.
I wish I could pay,
but it's not my fault.
It's that demon Fantasia--
owns that new
tacky funeral home.
That snake has taken
all my business.
I'm down to my last $100.
Now she's going after my
biggest client, the Casa
de Mentia Nursing Home.
If I lose them, I'm done.
- Did you say the De Mentia's?
Like, as in Diana de Mentia?
She said I was the best kisser
at Lamont Sanford Junior High.
- Ew.
[gasps]
Wait, that's it.
All we got to do is prove
to them your funeral home
is better than hers.
So what's Fantasia's
place like?
- Do you think I'd walk
in there and admit defeat?
The funeral director
community is small and vicious
with their gossip.
I got a reputation to uphold.
- Then it looks like we'll be
paying Fantasia a little visit.
- Uh, you're not
going to murder her--
- No!
I mean, we might.
I like having options.
- OK, we flyered
the whole neighborhood.
- Hopefully we'll get one
or two interested people.
[knocking, phone ringing]
- Hello?
You saw the flyer and were
very interested to apply?
[chatter]
- There's so many people!
- It's 'cause we're affordable.
All these white
people are moving in
and jacking up the rent.
- Gentrification
ain't all bad.
[thumping, chatter]
[buzzer]
- OK, Fishes.
See you in the locker room.
Great win.
But we gotta make
more touchdowns.
- Uh, he means baskets.
- Wait a second, towel boy.
I want you to be
my assistant coach.
- For real?
- I don't get this game,
but you do.
Now, there's an all-city
tournament coming up,
and we could use you.
- Really?
OK.
All right.
- Still gotta handle
the jockstraps, though.
- Ah!
It's still warm.
[upbeat music]
[upbeat music]
- Dang, Fantasia's
caskets are fly!
[sniffs] And I can't
smell dead booty at all.
- Ammonia.
It neutralizes
the stench of dead booty.
Welcome to Fantasia's Funerals.
What we getting after
in the afterlife?
- My name is Esmeralda
St. James Santiago-Brown,
and my brother--
- Esmeral-- do.
- and I are looking
to find our sweet
grandma's final resting place.
We'd love to speak
to the owner.
- That's me, and I'd
be happy to help.
- You're Fantasia?
[bell clangs]
- Baby, you need to grieve?
I got a sleeve--
to cry on.
Tears only, no snot.
This blouse cost a G.
both: Wow.
- Feel free to look around.
I'm available 24/7 hours a day,
and if you have questions,
you can call me
on my mobile phone.
both: Whoa.
[door clicks]
- Please excuse me.
- [crying]
- Mr. Omar's doomed.
- No, it just means we're going
to need to bring our A-game.
- Welcome to the first round
of the all-city tournament.
Be aware of the downs,
and be tough in the end zone.
[confused murmuring]
- He means, let's take shots
early in the possession
and be on top of the boards.
Rebounds win games.
- Also, the Black kid
is now the assistant coach.
Fishes on three.
Here we go.
[together]
One, two, three, Fishes!
♪
- Tewuliger, post up!
- [grunting]
- [grunts]
[cheering]
[buzzer]
- Good game, Chris.
♪
- Tewuliger, steal the ball!
♪
[buzzer, cheering]
♪
- Nice job, Coach.
- [chuckles]
I'll see you later.
JJ, take it to the hole!
He can't hold you!
- [grunting] Yeah!
[buzzer, cheering]
- Hey, assistant coach,
you want this old thing?
- Whoa!
[cameras flashing, chatter]
- Chris, love
the Letterman jacket.
Who are you wearing?
- Some white guy
from the class of 1923.
Uh, you with the combover.
- And which of these
loose cheerleaders
is going to prom with you?
- [giggles]
- All of them.
[chatter, cameras flashing]
With that jacket, I finally
felt like I belonged.
Even if the previous owner
apparently died in it.
♪
- Thanks for applying.
Bye-bye.
- She was great.
- What?
She was terrible.
Did you see that coffee
stain on her resume?
Raggedy.
Did you see those
wrinkles on her skirt?
Raggedy.
And did you see her
raggedy-ass boobs?
- Uh, she had boobs?
- Right answer.
But they were raggedy, too.
I could tell.
Her earrings raggedy,
her socks raggedy--
- [sighs]
♪
- Hey, Tasha.
Notice anything
different about me?
- I do.
Little dude from across the
street acting like he's
little dude from
across the town.
Walking all proud in that
white school's jacket.
I'd ask to hold
your Black pride,
but apparently you
ain't got none.
all: Ooh!
- We ought to be
calling you Air Jordan 3's
'cause you sold out.
all: Ooh!
- Guys, it's not like that.
It's just a jacket.
Tasha, tell them.
Isn't it the good Christian
thing to love thy enemy?
- Chris, there's
love of Christ,
and then there's basketball.
- [laughs] Sike!
This isn't my jacket.
I, uh, stole it.
The owner's probably looking
for it like, oh, I'm white.
I'm so cold without my
stupid soft, leathery jacket.
- You stole it, huh?
- Yep.
Definitely stole it.
Good luck finding your
jacket now, "Smalldick."
[laughs nervously]
- It's badass to steal
from a rich white kid.
Hey, Tasha, your loser friend
might be all right after all.
- Nah, man, I ain't
holding your dollar.
[tense music]
♪
- [humming]
- Chris, why are you so happy?
- No reason.
- Daddy, Chris was
trying to hide this.
- Who did you steal
this jacket from?
- It's mine.
I'm the assistant
basketball coach now.
- [squeals]
Son, I always thought
you had zero athletic ability.
But here you are,
part of a team.
I'm so proud.
- Julius, as my teammate,
can you be home early to meet
the rest of these tenants?
We need a new one by next week.
- You're replacing
Mr. Omar that quick?
- Yeah, but it
don't concern you,
so stay out of grown
folks' business.
- We will, Mama.
[whispering] We gotta tell
Mr. Omar doomsday's coming.
[upbeat music]
- Yo, Chris.
- There's my favorite loser.
- Wearing the jacket at school
and hiding it on the block,
I was kind of like
the Black Donnie Brasco--
Donnie Black-o.
And living a double
life was easy.
- Dude, did you hear?
The championship game
was just announced.
We're playing the Bobby
Brown High Prerogatives!
Everyone's going to be there.
They're calling it
the Battle of Brooklyn.
- Bobby Brown?
Son of a bitch.
- That's what my mom calls me.
Oh, I don't take it personal.
She does not like my dad.
both: Mr. Omar!
Mr. Omar!
- Oh.
Uh, be with you in
a minute, sweetheart.
- We went to see Fantasia.
She's great!
Personable, organized,
very modern.
- And she gave us
casket-shaped lollies.
- [sighs] I should just
be like my customers
and accept that I'm dead meat.
- Yeah. Ow!
- No!
You're the least creepy
tenant we've ever had,
and you work with dead people.
We need to come up
with plan B, OK?
What else do you know about
Diana de Mentia's family?
Think hard.
- Hmm.
Hmm. Hmm.
- Come on, Drew.
- I don't know much.
I just kissed her.
You know what?
Ask her yourself at
the game tomorrow.
Her family loves basketball.
They'll definitely be there.
- That's it!
Mr. Omar, let us
do an advertisement
during halftime that highlights
the ways you're better.
- I don't think that's the
best use of my last $100.
- Who was the halftime show
at the last Super Bowl?
- Up with the People.
Oh, and they dedicated the show
to Martin Luther King Jr.
- And who played in the game?
Exactly.
- Whoa.
- See you tomorrow, Mr. Omar.
- Well, if that doesn't work,
it'll be on to plan C--
burn this mother down
for the insurance money.
- Maybe I could
coach but also hide
my face with a mask or a hood.
- [bleep],
you trying to be the KKK?
You can't pick these white kids
who hate you over your homies
who tolerate you, barely.
- I know.
I should side with
the Bobby Brown kids.
- Damn straight I'm right.
This [bleep] crazy.
- [laughs] Well, well, well.
If it isn't Tattaglia's
assistant crotch.
- Hey, leave him alone!
He's with us.
- Don't worry,
I won't hit his brain.
Just his stomach.
- You're not
hitting any of him!
- [snarls, scoffs]
- Uh, thanks, JJ.
- No, thank you.
And you know what?
Today, you don't have to
hand-wash my jockstrap.
You can put it in the machine.
[squelching]
- [whispering] Sorry.
- Thanks for applying.
Bye-bye.
- He was great.
- What?
Did you see that
man's fingernails?
- No.
- If there's one thing
I know in this life,
it's that people with dirty
fingernails clog toilets.
- [sighs] What are we
going to do, Julius?
We met all the applicants,
and no one's a fit.
We need that monthly check.
- Maybe we should
burn this mother
down for the insurance money.
[bell rings]
[chatter]
[whistle blows]
- All right,
fellas, take a knee.
Even though feelings are
for girls on their periods,
I just want to
say I'm glad Chris
is helping coach when the
eyes of the whole borough
are upon us.
Good boy.
All right, now get
out there to warm up.
- I had to stand with my
school or stand with my block,
so I did the only thing a man
could do in this situation--
I got the [bleep] out!
[upbeat music]
♪
- That's Diana.
- Ugh.
Obviously.
- Chris, what play
should we run first?
Chris?
You, horny loser--
where's your friend?
- [uncertain mumble]
[cheering]
- [grunts]
- Go get the ball,
you knucklehead!
- [grunts]
- Get in pass formation.
- What?
Ow!
- Ugh!
This is when the Black kid says
stuff, and then you get it.
- Coach Thurman
told me to shoot.
- Well, Coach Chris
always tells me to shoot.
[cheering]
- [grunts]
- Hey, tall kid who
holds the ball a lot.
Try to score a
touchdown, will you?
- What?
- [grunts]
- Ah, damn it.
We need the Black kid.
[crowd booing]
- That's halftime, and the
Fishes are floundering.
- Where are you two going?
- Bathroom!
- Concession stand!
- Hmm.
Well, bring me
back some popcorn.
And let us know
if you see Chris,
or if this whole
coaching thing is a lie
and I have to whoop him.
- Craig, where
the hell is Chris?
- It's Greg.
And maybe he had
diarrhea from stress.
I know I did.
- Ew!
- Ugh!
[buzzer]
- That buzzer means
halftime, but before we
get to our halftime
show featuring
the Fishes dance team,
we have a word from one
of tonight's sponsors--
Bed-Stuy Goodbye
Funeral Services.
[melancholy music]
- [crying] Oh, woe!
I'm so sad my brother died
in a horrible accident.
Why?
But Bed-Stuy Goodbye Funeral
Services brought me comfort.
And because Mr. Omar is
a small business owner,
he always gives a
dedicated personal touch.
- And he's a skilled
makeup artist.
You'd never know I died
from acid to the face.
[impressed murmurs, applause]
- No widow left
behind, especially
if she got a good behind.
- Mr. Omar, where's my money?
- I'm not Mr. Omar,
I'm someone else.
- [sighs]
- Chris?
[mysterious music]
I'll be right back.
What the hell are you
doing here, hiding
under all these white people?
I thought you were
assistant coaching.
- I am.
But when the Bed-Stuy
kids found out,
they said I was a traitor.
I didn't want them to
hate me, but I also
didn't want to give up
the only good thing
that's happened to me here.
[sighs]
You wouldn't understand.
- Actually, I would.
Before I had kids, there
was something else that I
loved with all of my heart.
- Dad?
- Don't interrupt.
And no-- smoking.
- Back then, they thought
cigarettes were vegan.
- I used to love
my Menthol Blasters,
but during a shortage when
they ran out of pesticides,
I had to switch
to Adam's Wife,
the white woman's cigarettes.
I felt bad
for liking them more,
but you couldn't
beat that buzz.
Mm.
They save all the good
stuff for white people.
It was a hard choice.
But in the end,
I did what I wanted.
You gotta live
for yourself, baby.
Do that and you'll belong
where you're meant to.
both: Ugh!
- Come on!
[soft music]
♪
- My mom was right.
I had to decide.
What do I want?
♪
[breathes deeply]
[cheering]
- Where were you?
- I had diarrhea.
- [laughs]
Upset tummy buddies for life!
- I actually did
have diarrhea,
but that wasn't the point.
I wanted to coach.
[buzzer, cheering]
It's all you, JJ.
[dramatic music]
[cheering]
- Over here!
- Greg, steal the ball.
- [pants, grunts]
♪
- Yeah!
Good D, Greg!
- [grunts]
- Punt the ball!
- He means outlet it to JJ!
♪
[cheering]
- How do you say time
out in basketball?
all: Time out.
- Oh, OK.
Time out!
[whistle blows]
- What the hell was that?
- And how much did it cost?
- It was Drew's idea.
- What?
When have I ever been
someone who has ideas?
- Relax.
Mr. Omar can stay.
It's clear you
two care about him
enough to do whatever
that was out there.
- Well, you guys
clearly like him too,
since you couldn't
find a single person
to take over his apartment.
- Maybe we do, but I like
being paid on time more.
- So you guys aren't mad at us?
- Of course we're mad.
This is why you stay out
of grown folks' business.
Poor Mr. Omar.
- What about me?
- Mr. Omar, we're sorry
about Drew and Tonya
meddling in your business.
If you need more
time on rent, then--
- No need, Mr. Julius.
Here's last month
and next month in advance.
My business has
risen from the dead.
- So you made a deal
with the De Mentias?
- Actually, they're
going with Fantasia.
That snake offered
them half off.
Tragic, tragic!
But turns out these
rich white parents
are easily impressed
with halftime shows,
and lucky for me,
cocaine is ripping
through their community.
They're snorting themselves
into an early grave.
[laughing]
[soft music]
- Mwah.
- [chuckles]
You're welcome, Mom and Dad.
- Wow.
Maybe we should get into
grown folks' business.
- You'll both be getting
the business if you ever
pull a stunt like this again.
both: Yes, Mom and Dad.
- We have the ball with 19
seconds, and we're down by one.
I got nothing.
- I've been working on this
play, but it's a little crazy.
Do you guys trust me?
OK.
[soft music]
♪
- Chris is killing it.
Good job, Coach Chris!
♪
- It is pretty cool that that
loser's coaching and telling
those white kids what to do.
- I hold his dollars.
- My mom was right again.
Living for myself was the one
thing people on both sides
of this town could respect.
- OK, let's see
this play in action.
[whistle blows]
[police siren wailing]
- Well, Chris, you did it.
Your play actually
made the gym explode
with the basketball team in it.
- There he is!
Let's get him!
- You're dead, fool!
[both screaming]
- Everybody
still hates Chris ♪
[upbeat music]
♪
- MTV ♪