Legends of Chamberlain Heights (2016) s01e02 Episode Script

Child Please

[funky hip-hop music] I got one for you, Jamal.
If you could smash any chick, knowing you'd get a STD, who would you stick? That's a tough one, Milk.
Hmm, probably Amber Rose.
You sure about that, my nig? You really rollin' with Wiz Khalifa's sloppies? All that ass? I'll take the finger like Kanye.
- I hope you don't lick your finger.
- You can hate on a thicky all you want.
I knew you was a finger-in-the-booty-ass bitch.
[sensual music] [smooches, giggles] You nasty, boo.
Head's up.
Massa coming.
Shoot that, Randy.
Way to use the glass! [laughter] Man, [bleep] y'all.
Bring me a towel, bitch.
You sure you don't want a tampon? [laughter] At least we finally got our first high school game coming up.
Our first step to being legends.
Yup, all the beezies finna jock us when they see us rockin' our jerseys, my nigs.
- [slap] Aah! - We told you, Milk.
Until your white ass proves you got some black in you, that word is on the banned substance list.
- Got it, my nig? - I told you, I'm Creole.
Man, I'm tired of all this practice.
My body's a well-oiled machine.
[chomps] I feel you, my dude.
We talkin' about practice.
Not a game.
Come on, y'all, focus up.
Coach B gonna yell at us.
- God damn, you scary, Grover.
- Yeah, homey.
[whistle blows] [sighs] What in the hell you think you're doing? Get your asses off the floor.
[both groaning] You know better than that, Grover.
Your brother Montrel would be ashamed that you two dropped out of the same cooch.
And, Jamal, you're only here to boost the team's GPA.
And you're failing at that.
And white boy, you're only here because your stepdad bought us the jerseys, mother[bleep]er.
Breath smell like he been eatin' a dookie taco.
[laughter] 1x02 - "Child Please" [funky hip-hop music] Yo, Randy, good practice, bro.
Skerrt! Uh, did I give you permission to talk to me, dog nuts? When I played with your bro, if I talked out of turn, I'd get a thumb shoved up my dookie shoot.
Bet you talked out of turn all the time.
[both laughing] I'ma start calling you "Mon-taint," 'cause you ain't Montrel and you look like a taint.
[laughter] [mumbling] Punk-ass fresh fish.
Damn right, Mumblemouth.
[laughs] Got 'eem.
[Mumblemouth laughs] [whiffs] There you mother[bleep]ers are.
I need to talk to you little niglets about failing my health class.
If you don't get your shit together fast, you mother[bleep]ers will be suspended from the mother[bleep]ing team, guys.
What you mean, suspended? Basketball the only reason we come to school.
Yeah, come on, Coach Bundy.
Help some Black Lives Matter.
Milk, you're white.
God helped you out, mother[bleep]er.
[funky hip-hop music] If I can't wear my jersey to school, I'ma go white boy and shoot this bitch up.
- Damn, Milk, you ain't got no chill.
- Yeah, you already know - I ain't got no chill, homey.
- Ain't no need for violence.
[bickering fades away] [sensual music] [cameras clicking, reporters clamoring] [grunting] [camera clicks] 12 inches.
Next question.
Hallelujah, bitch.
Nigga, I feel blessed.
[cameras clicking, reporters clamoring] [door opens] Grover, how could you and not ask me? Yo, Grove, you gotta stop thirsting for Randy's boo.
You ain't even on her radar.
Not yet.
But you know Cindy gonna be jockin' me once we legends.
Just watch.
[school bell ringing] [funky hip-hop music] - Oh! - All: Ooh! Hey, how do my nuts taste? [laughter] He should've walked away.
Nice try, skeet scrub.
Now get to the back of the bus with the rest of the shit crew.
[laughter] Class, settle the [bleep] down.
Now as a part of our "Scared Celibate" curriculum, I will be partnering you up to raise a goddamn baby.
What you mean, raise a baby? Can't we just go to Planned Parenthood? - I got a coupon! - How am I supposed to go league if I got daddy responsibilities? [all complaining] Oh, shut the [bleep] up! I present to you the Totbot 3000.
[Totbot 3000 coos] Now for the next week, you gotta pretend this robot is a mother[bleep]ing baby.
[groans] Now it's time to pair you bastards up.
Milk, you with Shamal.
Man, I gotta boos with this wank-ass Aight, I'ma be cool 'cause you my boy's sister, but I gotta tell it like it is.
I ain't doin' 'nathen.
I'm keepin' it real, like Grover's dad.
That's fine, as long as we're together.
Jamal, I'm putting you with Medina.
[growls] Damn, Medina.
Can a ledge get some breathing room? You like a meat sweater.
Don't get coy with me, mother[bleep]er.
We together, so you better get used to me gettin' up inside you.
Cindy, I think it'd be good for you - to be paired up with Grover.
- Oh, word? [classmates react] Come on, Coach.
You know Cindy and I belong together.
- She's my lady.
- Nice try, mother[bleep]er, but we've got our first game this week.
We don't need you sticking your energy in the wrong place.
So your partner is LaDante.
We progressive like a mother[bleep]er.
[laughter] Brandy, you gonna be my wife for life.
On Oakland.
[smooches, slurps] Nooo! I was thinking we treat this more like a side family.
You take care of the baby, and I'll slide through on nights and weekends.
If you eat with your family, I'll buy you lunch.
Oh, okay.
One of these, one of those.
Aight, but let's go grub somewhere on the low low.
We don't need all these squares in our circle.
I know a romantic spot.
More tater tots, mother[bleep]er! I'm eating for two and the baby.
You heard the lady.
Run the meatloaf, bitch.
[funky hip-hop music] Look, Randy, I take this parenting shit serious.
This my tenth year doing this project at Duncan.
I expect you to be a good mommy and visit this little nigga early and often.
Y-you got it, LaDante.
[chuckles nervously] Whatever you need.
And if you don't fulfill your duties as my play wife, that ass is mine.
Feel me? I'll hold the baby.
You hold my belt loop, boo.
[Music] Mmm.
[Totbot 3000 crying] Come on, little LeBronya, stop cockblocking on Daddy.
Here, give her to me.
It's obvious you have no idea what you're doing.
There, there, sweetie.
Mommy has you.
[Totbot 3000 giggles] I guess you got the touch.
You should try touching these nuts.
Boy, please.
You know I'm with Randy.
And I am not looking to downgrade.
You ain't downgrading.
You're investing early in a sure thing.
And I'ma prove it to you, if you let me take you out.
Well, be a good baby daddy, help me ace this class, and we'll see.
Girl, you about to get a A and a meal at Golden Corral.
And now, your starting lineup Your boy, Montrel Cummings.
[chuckles] [bleep] that.
[slurps] [door opens] Well, look at you, trying to be all grown and shit.
Just trying to make sure I pass this class - so I can stay on the squad.
- Yo, what you doing? Which one of you lazy negroes ate my last Munchable? Oh, it's like that, huh? Nobody got nothin' to say? I buy the groceries, I paid for the couch, I even paid for the cable so the white man can distract you from the real issues with this mindless basketball game, and all I ask is you don't eat my Munchables! Man, why you trippin', little bro? You don't like crackers, anyway.
[both laughing] - Oh, we being funny? - Man, just relax.
Soon as I get my NCAA reparations from the homey Ed O'Bannon's lawsuit, I'll buy you Munchables, Brunchables, and Dinnables.
Fool, you play intramurals at a junior college.
The only check you getting is a reality check, you broke-ass negro.
[Totbot 3000 laughs] I got buckets, though, nigga.
I gotta go punch in.
Apparently me and Mom are the only people in this house putting in work.
Stay black.
[knock on the door] [sensual music] Cheer practice just ended, Grover.
I hope you don't mind me showing up.
Oh, okay.
I ain't know we was expecting company.
I'll be right back.
[glass shatters] What's good, girl? I'm Montrel, local hoops legend.
Come on, 'Trel.
This is my baby momma.
Baby momma? Man, the only thing getting pregnant around here is your sock, Crunchy.
Anyway, how did everything go with the baby? - Did she cry much? - Yeah, but I fed her, burped her, changed her diaper, and sang her some of that new Taylor Swift until she stopped.
You really hitting them high notes like that, Grover? You already know, boo.
Anything for our baby.
You're really taking this serious, Grover.
I like that.
Later, new booty.
[door closes] She want my pipe, guaranteed.
[hip-hop music] Oh.
[laughs] [high-pitch laugh] [normal voice] There we go.
Hey, Mom, you gotta take care of this mark-ass baby if we finna pass this class.
Of course, Milky.
Has Mommy ever let you down? Yeah, you have, when you married that lame Uncle Joey.
How many times have I told you? My name is Dave.
Well, you look like that square from "Full House," so you Uncle Joey to me, buster.
Now step out my kitchen.
Milton, don't make me pull out the mortgage paperwork to clarify who owns this house.
See how white folk always be referring to paperwork and shit? Come on, Milk, we're in this together.
I already been done told you, Shamal.
- That baby ain't mine.
- Milky, don't talk to her like that.
[gasps] Why don't I help you with the baby, Shamal? Well, I guess so, if that's the way Milk's gonna be.
Cool, I'm about to go make some stomach pancakes right quick.
See about me.
I can't even come up with no lies.
- Jamal love the kids.
- You a great daddy, Jamal.
And I'ma take care of all your needs and things.
[Totbot 3000 babbles] That's cool, Medina.
But you gotsta be gone.
You ain't gonna invite me inside to meet your parents? You trippin', boo.
It won't be as fun if we allow our relationship to venture into the human dimension.
We gotta keep our shit spiritual.
You better not be trying to play me with all that talk.
- I know how niggas do.
- Go on now, boo.
You finna find out about me soon enough.
Ya heard? [both moaning, slurping] [farts] I been holding that in all day.
[hip-hop music] Ahh, look who woke up.
You know, LaDante, it's only one class, man.
We we don't have to spend 24 hours together.
[chuckles nervously] Shut your ass up, wifey.
I made eggs.
You want patties, links, or sausage? I-I should probably just get home.
Then it's links, nigga.
[school bell ringing] [indistinct chattering] All right, all right, settle down.
Now, when you have a baby, you need mother[bleep]ing insurance.
That's why you gotta enroll these little bastards in Robamacare.
Robamacare? Come on, Coach, they're just robots.
Did I [bleep]ing ask you? One of the utmost concerns you'll have as a father, Randy, is deciding upon the health care options that you'd like to provide for your goddamn child! Watch your tone, Coach.
She with me now.
Okay, okay, no disrespect.
Now, apparently these mother[bleep]ing robot babies can get sick like real mother[bleep]ing babies.
So I'll be passing out these kits for y'all to do the vaccinations your goddamn selves.
I don't want to do vaccinations, Milk.
Jenny McCarthy says they're linked to autism.
Aye, Jenny McCarthy's the smartest bitch in Hollywood.
[bleep] Robamacare.
[Totbot 3000 whines] We need to talk.
I know.
I'm happy we doing this too.
What we gonna do with the baby tonight during the game? Can't you just let it chill in the girls' locker room - or your car? [Totbot 3000 whines] - What? You're not leaving our child in no locker.
No, I was just playin', baby.
You know I'll take care of it.
All right, Grover, I trust you.
You better not screw this up and mess up my streak of straight A's.
[hip-hop music] [Totbot 3000 coughing] This should do the trick.
- [Totbot 3000s crying] What's all that noise for? - The baby's sick, Milk.
Looks like measles or something like that.
Better stuff a sock in that little mark's mouth.
Yo, Mom, guess what? You watchin' Grover's baby for the game tonight too.
Oh, would love to.
Shamal and I can make it a party.
That sounds like a great idea, Mrs.
We should have a party for all the babies in class.
What do we look like, Brangelina? No more kids! Why you frontin', Uncle Joey? Always stepping on the gators of some pimpin'.
Look, man, I'm just sayin'.
[music] There were no black people on "The Flintstones," and there were definitely no black people on "The Jetsons.
" We have no past and we have no future.
We do not exist.
Turn the heat down and let that simmer for a minute.
Oh, it's simmering, my man.
[music playing over car radio] [snorts] Um, excuse me.
I was wondering.
Do you have "that"? Depends.
Do you have that cash? Another satisfied devil.
Yo, Malik, I need you to do me a favor and watch the baby for a few.
My first game is tonight.
You kiddin', right? You know I'm only eight years old.
You should be watching me.
Come on, little bro.
I ain't got no other options.
Sounds like a YP, bro.
I told you, you wasn't ready to be a man like me.
Now, if you don't mind, I got a corner to manage.
You bad for business.
I hate robots.
A Roomba took my mom's job.
[electronic music playing] [siren wailing] [Montel grunting] Yo, 'Trel, I got a favor to ask.
I need you to watch my baby while I'm at the game.
Hmm, what does Uncle 'Trel get in return? - What you want? - How about 50 bucks? 50 bucks? Montrel, you know I ain't got that kind of dough on me.
I'll give you anything else.
Just name it.
Let me get your social.
- What? - Sometimes Montrel has to become someone other than Montrel.
[high school band music] [all cheering] Duncan, Duncan, we're the best.
Let's go, Blackies, DHS.
Work that black D, baby! [whistle blows] [crowd cheering] Our first high school basketball game.
We about to get our nuts.
Yeah, I only missed, like, three lay-ups in warm-ups, so I'm ready to go.
How much y'all think you finna drop tonight? Numbers don't mean nothing.
I just need a couple of highlights on Hoopsmixtape.
I gotta have at least 16 points, since Montrel dropped 15 in his debut.
Yeah, that dude was a legend.
[mellow hip-hop music] [Totbot3000 laughs] Nah, you too young to puff on this dohja.
[Totbot 3000 babbles] I guess one hit won't hurt the little niglet.
Just don't tell yo dad.
[Totbot 3000 coughs] [exciting music] [munches] I don't know what it is, but something's tellin' me, we ain't finna get no burn.
Yo, as long as we don't get in, - our stats can't get messed up.
- Yeah, but let's be real.
Everyone at school gonna think we some benchwarmers.
[whistle blows] Hey, ref! You better start calling some fouls for my wife, or I'ma see your ass in the parking lot.
[all gasping] Damn, LaDante taking this parenting shit serious.
- Hey, where yo baby at, Grover? - I left him with Montrel.
- Say what, my nig? - Aye, Grove, you do realize you off the team if you kill yo baby, right? [mellow hip-hop music] Shit, I'm out of rollin' paper.
[bubbling] [TotBot 3000 crying] Hey, man, how you turn this thing off? Maybe you just overheated.
[electricity cracking] [laughs] Man, I'm so [bleep]ed up.
[laughs] Oh, no, no.
Oh, man.
Montrel, what did you do to my baby? [faux crying] I don't know.
I was just ripping fat bong hits out of his ass, and then he started crying like a little bitch.
So I started shaking him like I'm doing now.
[Totbot 3000's insides rattling] Gimme that.
[phone chimes] Oh, damn.
Cindy thought I looked sexy in my jersey.
[phone chimes] Wait a minute.
She's coming over to see LeBronya.
I can't let her see our baby like this.
Montrel, you have to help me.
[sips] I got a hook-up that might help you out.
[funky hip-hop music] Montrel, what's up, buddy boy? I got some technical nerd shit for you, Brazy B.
I wanted to see if you could take a look at - my little bro's baby.
- No problem, buddy boy.
- What's the matter with this guy? - I don't know.
It keeps shutting on and off and acting all fidgety.
Oh, yeah, buddy boy.
This battery has liquid damage.
Tastes like Strawberry Brohito.
Nah, don't look at me.
You know I don't drink that bitch-flavored bullshit.
It looks like the baby has Power Down Syndrome.
My baby has Power Down Syndrome? I'm off the team now for sho.
Oh, no, no, no, no, don't worry.
I can fix, buddy boy.
But, uh, it's gonna cost you about 300 plus tax.
$300? But what about my Robamacare? [hip-hop music] I don't know what to do.
If Coach sees this, you know I'm off the squad.
And if Cindy see it, I ain't never gonna get my meat moist.
At least your baby ain't looking like no Benjamin Button.
I don't know what y'all complaining for.
You did it to yourselves.
Grover, you know you wasn't supposed to leave your fate in the hands of Montrel.
And Milk, acting all uppity with being an anti-vaxxer and all that.
Oh, shit.
Here comes Cindy.
What's up, Grover? Where's my little munchkin? This is where we bounce.
- Come here, LeBronya.
- Uh here you go.
Ew, why does my baby look like Forest Whitaker? What are you talking about? Our baby's always looked like Forest Whitaker.
Okay, I ain't gonna lie to you.
I let Montrel watch the baby, and he may or may not have spilled flavored beer on her, and may or may not have used her as a bong.
Grover, that's the dumbest thing you could have done.
What do you want me to do? You needed to cheer, and I had a game to play.
You mean, you had a game to watch.
[clacking keys, sending texts] If I fail this class, ooh, I will never forgive you! Damn, homey, you ain't never gonna smash now.
- Believe dat.
- Stupid baby.
It's your fault I ain't gonna get laid.
Man, y'all some professional passengers.
Time for me to take the wheel.
[exciting music] [Totbot 3000s power down] [restart] Man, that didn't do shit.
My baby still rustier than a mother[bleep]er.
I failed you, my nigs.
[computer beeping] [playful music playing] [Shamal and Totbot 3000 crying] I don't now what's wrong with my baby.
- I think it's dying.
- Oh, Shamal.
Every woman loses a baby or two in her lifetime.
I'm more upset that Milk doesn't care.
Shamal, let me hold that mark right quick.
[Totbot 3000 coughs] Aye, yo, Mom, bring me some of them hand sanitizers.
This baby chaffin' all over me.
- What up, my dudes? - Not a damn thing.
Got a Forest Whitaker baby, lost my boo Cindy, and once I fail this class, I'm gonna get kicked off the team.
Man, ever since we had to be responsible parents, our lives have been suckin' some chicken dicks.
Now I see why dudes in the league don't hang out with they kids.
Just get rid of him.
You already failing.
Aye, he's right.
Can I kick it? Yes, you can.
- Can I kick it? - Yes, you can.
Then I'm gone.
[grunts] [grunts] [Totbot 3000s crying] [electricity sparking] Y'all would be some goddamn kickers.
I'm a quarterback, bitch.
- Jamal! What the hell you doin'? - Oh.
[panting] [Totbot 3000 falling] [dramatic music] All: Touchdown! No, no, no, no touchdown.
She didn't complete the process.
- Let's go to instant replay.
- Upon further review of the play [mumbling] stands.
What him say? I said, upon further review of the play [mumbling] stands.
[all cheering] [all grunting] We did it, yeah! [rumbling] - Oh, no.
- What you mean, "Oh, no"? [Totbot 3000 coughing] [powers down] [crying] Mother[bleep]er, my baby.
[crying] Damn, damn, damn! [somber music] [crying] - I'm sorry, boo.
- Stop with the "boo" thing.
You ruined my streak of straight As.
So if you think we're gonna be boos, you're as high as your brother.
[coughing] [powers off] [crying] Now I'm gonna have to go to that school Lil' Romeo be rappin' about.
- The hell happened to your Totbots? - They all dead, Coach.
I'm at peace with it.
Our baby led a good life.
Wait a minute.
All your robots are dead? Shit, that means I gotta teach summer school.
I was supposed to be going to Detroit.
Think, mother[bleep]er.
You know what? I'm grading on a curve.
All y'all get A's.
[all cheering] [chuckles] Now get the [bleep] out my classroom.
[funky hip-hop music] Yo, Cindy, can I holler right quick? What do you want, Grover? I just wanted to apologize again for killing our baby.
I promise it won't ever happen again.
Unless you want it to.
- What? - Your body, your choice.
The point is, I'm not ready to be a daddy.
But I am ready to be your man.
Trust and believe.
You ain't a legend.
[clicks tongue] Yet.
[sensual music] The games are way more enjoyable with no kids.
Yeah, that's why when we start beating real cakes, we gotta strap up.
Or just make sure our pull-out game is strong, ya dig? Hold up.
Massa comin'.
You mother[bleep]ers better stop all this jaw-jacking and pay attention to the goddamn game.
[all groaning] I got a bad tooth, mother[bleep]ers.
[laughter] [hip-hop music]