Black Dynamite (2009) s02e04 Episode Script
'How Honey Bee Got Her Groove Back' or 'Night of the Living Dickheads'
Honey Bee: Euphoria, Fatback Taffy, Connie Lingus, and the rest of you whores, come on! The doctor's here for your annual five-year checkup.
Hello, ladies.
Can you whores get on your knees, please? Now say, "ahh.
" - Ahh.
Mother[bleep.]
Ahh.
- That's it.
[pants unzip.]
Now hold it right there.
Mm-hmm.
Looks like you have - acid gag reflux.
- That is impossible, doc.
- I always use protection.
- Have you experienced any - unusual discharge? - No, just the usual green ones.
Mm-hmm.
Now, Connie Lingus, I'm going to check your peripheral vision, so look straight ahead.
Tell me when you see - the back of my hand.
- Right there! Right there! Please don't hit me, daddy.
Please! [whimpering.]
Your vision is intact, but you do seem to suffer from a bit of post-traumatic pimp-slap syndrome.
[rubber glove snaps.]
Now let's check out those - kegel muscles.
- This little speculum ain't gonna do nothing.
Who this for? We some hoes.
What you think you gonna do with this speculum? Oh, doc, you acting like you scared of the [bleep.]
come on, I'm-a walk you through it 'cause you gonna go straight up this [bleep.]
.
When you get up there, you gonna take the [bleep.]
on the left.
Now, when you get to the fork in that [bleep.]
you gonna take a quick right and come on back down to the new [bleep.]
- that's the one I need examined.
- After a very, very, very thorough and delightful examination, I'm afraid to say that these whores are all whored out.
I am prescribing a week-long whore-cation in Jamaica.
Dynamite! Dynamite! [title music.]
He's Dynamite So Dynamite Ooohhh, ooohhh Ooohhh, aaahhh He's Dynamite Dy-no, Dy-no Ooohhh, ooohhh Ooohhhh Dynamite! Dynamite! Bullhorn: This week - B.
D.
: And here's your tickets, Bee.
- Why would I need to go on a ho-cation? B.
D.
: 'Cause you need a break, too, Honey Bee, obviously not from sucking and [bleep.]
but from managing all - the sucking and [bleep.]
.
- Honey Bee: What are y'all - gonna be doing while we're gone? - B.
D.
: Since the orphans are all away at orphan camp, I figured it'd be a good time to renovate the Whorephanage.
Bullhorn: We need to fix these beds, chairs, chandeliers, and floors, 'cause even the furniture's worn out like these whores! [metal detector whirring.]
Honey Bee: Damn, it looks like every vagina in the black - community is here.
- No, I ain't gonna take [bleep.]
off.
No, I ain't doing a mother[bleep.]
thing.
Bitch, don't fall for that [bleep.]
don't let that [bleep.]
feel on you like that.
You got to pay for that [bleep.]
give a [bleep.]
where you at [bleep.]
.
Who is your pastor? Cream Corn: Okay, what do we - do now, Black Dynamite? - B.
D.
: Not sure.
I'm afraid my skill set has only allowed me to put people - through walls, not nails.
- Cream Corn: Well, we can use this.
B.
D.
: "Repairing Whorephanages for suckas"? Cream Corn: Yep, it's a how-to book.
They have a whole series.
"Walking in platform shoes for suckas," "How to keep your pimp hand strong for suckas," - "How not to be a sucka " - B.
D.
: I don't care how much it'll help.
I ain't reading it 'cause Black Dynamite ain't no "sucka.
" [telephone rings.]
Cream Corn: Man, Frank the John's been calling all day asking where the hoes at.
Bullhorn: Frank the John, I know you calling for some sucking and [bleep.]
fun, but the whores ain't here right now.
They're living dick-free in the land of the mother[bleep.]
sun! [tropical music plays.]
- [jamaican accent.]
Rhatid, dem amazing.
- Oh, me see dem.
Dem so beautiful, old, wrinkled, and pale.
[slap.]
Not dem, boy the one next to dem.
Come in.
We go over there.
Nobody mess this up, you know.
- Let's go.
- I like Jamaica, but why it - got so many Jamaicans? - Wait a minute.
- Jamaicans come in vanilla? - Honey Bee: Y'all shouldn't be looking at no men anyway.
We came here to give your - suckers and [bleep.]
a break.
- Yeah, we need a break from sucking and [bleep.]
but you need some sucking and [bleep.]
.
Hello, ladies.
I'm your server, Dexter.
This is Saint, and this is Jacques.
Together, we are Dexter Saint Jacques.
- Hors d'oeuvres? - Yeah, that's what I'm talking about.
Honey Bee: Unh-unh! The doctor said no sex, and that includes food that you can [bleep.]
How we supposed to enjoy our ho-cation if you don't relax? Honey Bee: I'm relaxed.
I'm having a-a real good time.
[chuckles.]
The only thing having a good time is that stick up your ass.
Mm, she's right.
You need to stop bottom bitching and get you some of these jamaican hot dogs.
Honey Bee: [sighs.]
I guess you're right.
Black Dynamite did send me here to relax.
Maybe I just need to go lay on the beach.
No, you need to get laid on the beach.
[laughter.]
Yeah, we can hear your [bleep.]
when you walk, bitch.
You too dry, hoe.
B.
D.
: Suey! Suey! Suey! Suey! Bullhorn: Now, I ain't racist, and I don't mean to clown, but, damn, I wish there was some mother[bleep.]
Mexicans around! [chuckles.]
[telephone rings.]
Should have been a sucka.
B.
D.
: Get the phone, sucka.
Cream Corn: Oh, no need, Black Dynamite.
I put a sign by the phone that says, "we all whored out," so we ain't even got to answer.
[knock on door.]
Frank the John? John the John? - What do you want? - What do we want? You see all these rock-hard dicks standing in front of you? We need some [bleep.]
and sucking, and we need it now! And if you ain't got [bleep.]
and sucking, we'll take some - sucking and [bleep.]
- Cream Corn: Didn't y'all hear the sign? We fresh out of hoes.
- Aren't y'all married, anyway? - Of course we're married.
Why you think we here? Look, I can't walk around like this all day.
I-I work in a school with kids.
- My dick is harder than slavery.
- Yeah, this is dangerous, man.
I have to walk home through a gay neighborhood with all this.
Come on, man.
You you got to have a hoe up in there somewhere.
Ooh, what about that big, fat Laffy Taffy bitch? We we could split her.
Cream Corn: Bye and bye! [grunts.]
[growls.]
We need whores! Give us brains! [all growling.]
[tropical music plays.]
# all right # I'm Jamaican [ting!.]
[all screaming.]
with the big, black jamaican tool I'm Jamaican [screaming continues.]
and I'll give you a jamaican screw well I walk into the party grab a lady and get naughty [jamaican accent.]
Me name's Bob Bob Marley.
Honey Bee: [snoring.]
[ting!.]
- Aah! - Yeah.
Shabba.
Honey Bee: Mmm.
Mmm.
Mmm, this is some good jamaican ice cream.
Sorry for almost knocking your head off back there, but you just can't be walking up on a bitch on the beach.
That's all right, daughter.
I was really just trying - to protect my spliff.
- Honey Bee: Now, what you say your name was again? Mustafah Marley? Matumbo? - What what what? - Bob.
Bob Marley.
- I and I is a reggae star.
- Honey Bee: Well, I never heard of you.
Must not be that good, but keep working.
Who knows? One day, you might be as famous as Marlon Jackson.
[chuckles.]
Me originally was stunned by your beauty, but the fact you no care who I am a-turn me on.
Honey Bee: Good, 'cause I was trying not to say nothing, but you need to comb that nappy-ass hair.
A coconut for my little coconut.
Hold up.
Hold up.
Hold up.
The Bob Marley woke you up and saved you from getting sunburned? Honey Bee: Girl, yes, and then he climbed up a coconut tree, massaged my feet, carried me in his arms along the beach.
Oh [bleep.]
.
Then what, girl? Then what? Honey Bee: Then he got frisky on me when I let him rub suntan lotion on me.
I know good and damn well that the inside of my vagina can't get sunburned.
- Dexter, you damn liar.
- Me can't believe the biggest reggae star in the world invited us to him private rehearsal show before the one love peace concert.
Honey Bee: First of all, I don't know you.
Second, he invited me.
Third, I'm not going.
And fourth, who the [bleep.]
was talking to you? For a woman who run a whorehouse, you're pretty.
When the last time you let a man back up in front - of your butt from the back? - He's right.
When was the last time you felt love in the heart - of your [bleep.]
? - Honey Bee: It ain't been - that long.
10 years, maybe.
- Child, that thing probably - don't even work no more.
[chuckles.]
- Honey Bee: My little [bleep.]
[bleep.]
just fine.
I just don't [bleep.]
with love.
Well, me and Dexter [bleep.]
with it all night long.
[laughs.]
We do? Oh, yeah, we do.
We fall in love at first [bleep.]
or is it [bleep.]
at first sight? Me forget.
[smooches.]
Honey Bee: Ugh! Sucking and [bleep.]
for free is disgusting! Now, I taught you hoes to be classier than that.
[door slams.]
# Dynamite! Dynamite! # [rattling.]
[all groaning, shouting.]
Cream Corn: Black Dynamite, you might want to come and see this.
[all growling.]
Bullhorn: These Johns ain't had sex and are all backed up with semen, and it's damn-near turned them into horny, - mindless demons.
- B.
D.
: What should we do, Cream Corn? Cream Corn: I don't know.
Why you asking me? B.
D.
: 'Cause you and a monk are the only ones I know who can deal successfully without getting ass for long periods of time, - and there ain't no monk here I can ask.
- Bullhorn: Well, we can't call the police.
The mother[bleep.]
are out there, too, dry humping the building and ready to screw.
[glass shatters.]
Cream Corn: What are we waiting for? Let's kill the Walking Dead dead! Bullhorn: Cream Corn, we can't do these mother[bleep.]
no damage 'cause these zombie Johns got us at an unfair dick-advantage.
[singing indistinctly.]
# Let's go raw # I know you understand right in de palm of my hand don't need de rubber let's go raw I know you'll understand can you feel it? [indistinct shouting.]
Honey Bee: Huh, that's strange.
- Don't y'all know he ain't famous? - Hey, you like me song, eh? Honey Bee: I-I guess it sounded good, even though I had - no idea what you were saying.
- Honey Bee, something special about you in a jubee.
You have me soul.
I jump around and flash and turn upside down and flip-flop and skydive and all kind of ting.
You know what me say? Honey Bee: I hope you got a Bob Marley-to-English dictionary 'cause your broken English is really broken, so I don't know - You understand what me a-say now? - Honey Bee: Ooh, oh.
I-I guess I do.
You know, I-I usually don't allow men to get this close to me, but for some strange reason, I don't have my guards up with you.
You make me feel so safe.
[gun cocks.]
It's time to die, Marley! [gun cocks.]
Honey Bee: With the exception of these three mother[bleep.]
with machine guns! What the hell?! Dynamite! Dynamite! [all screaming.]
Honey Bee: Uh, Bob, what - the [bleep.]
is going on? - No worry, Bee.
Just some man try and kill I.
- Me got your ass this time, boy.
- No, I-I got him! [jamaican accent.]
No, me got him! Honey Bee: [grunts.]
[chuckles.]
Come on! [gunfire.]
Way too positive.
Music too damn positive.
Come back here! I go and block you! - I go and block you, Bob! - Honey Bee: Oh! [both shouting indistinctly.]
[gunfire.]
Ooh! [tires squeal.]
[gunfire continues.]
Honey Bee: [bleep.]
with all this damn weed, I thought this island would be way more peaceful! - Well, some parts are peaceful.
- Honey Bee: What parts, Bob?! Uh, mostly the parts I'm not in.
[bleep.]
What you guys doing here? According to my Bob Marley assassination schedule, it's the Jamaica labour party's turn to try and kill him.
No, it's not.
My schedule says the people's national party turn.
Look here.
Foul, foul.
That's last year's schedule, Man.
- Rhatid! You're right! - Told you.
And who is you? I'm with the C.
I.
A.
, asshole.
[bleep.]
I got to go back - and get my arm.
- Who are you, man? I don't see you up on this schedule.
[all screaming.]
Honey Bee: Aren't you afraid of people trying to kill you? Me a rebel, man, who don't have no help, nor take no bribe and fight single-handed with the music in me heart for - the people them.
- Honey Bee: [bleep.]
fighting with music.
You need a damn gun, bulletproof vest, something.
Well, I guess if you're not afraid to die, I shouldn't be afraid of love.
Ohh, you sure know how to sweep a bottom bitch off her bottom.
Booyaka! Booyaka! Cream Corn: The whores ain't picking up.
When they coming back? B.
D.
: Maybe they put a note by the phone so you could read it.
[glass shattering.]
Damn, the Johns are trying to flood us out.
All: We need whores! Give us brains! - Honey Bee: Mm.
- Baby, why you always wear - so much clothes? - Honey Bee: I'm in a bikini.
- I'm damn-near naked.
- No.
Now you are.
Wow, jah has clearly, clearly, clearly blessed you.
You is so beautiful - both of you.
- Honey Bee: Oh, my gosh.
- You like my giant spliff? - Honey Bee: Mm-hmm.
I want to smoke it.
Oh, a real spliff? Okay, really? Mm.
[water splashing.]
Yeah.
[moaning.]
[animals screeching.]
Ahh! Booyaka! Booyaka! Ohh, you just made up for in one night.
Whoo, my vagina she got her groove back, but you blew my back out.
Would you stay if me promised to give your vagina - it groove back every day? - Honey Bee: This is beautiful and all, but this ain't gonna last, sweetheart.
I got to go back to the whorephan Mm.
Mm.
Mm.
Me love you, Bee.
Now what you say, baby? Honey Bee: Aw, damn! I'm in love at first [bleep.]
.
[telephone rings.]
[moaning.]
[whimpers.]
Honey Bee: What are you girls doing? - Are you girls sucking and [bleep.]
- Just getting a little - late-night room service.
- Honey Bee: Well, guess what.
- Me, too! - What?! Hey, y'all! Bob Marley knocked the dust off Honey Bee's [bleep.]
! [laughs.]
Cobwebs and all! So, when you coming back to the hotel to give us - all the details, girl? - Honey Bee: Well, that's the thing, see.
I'm not coming back to the hotel.
I'm not leaving Jamaica.
Honey Bee, you can't do that.
Girl, this is just ho-cation dick! What am I supposed to tell B.
D.
? Honey Bee: Tell him I said, "goodbye.
" You sure, Bee? I love you so much, Bee.
Me a-take you to meet me fambly.
[birds chirping.]
[indistinct conversations.]
[laughter.]
Honey Bee: Oh, there's a lot of women and children here.
It reminds me of my Whorephanage.
I'm gonna fit right in.
But who's this ho? It is a pleasure to meet Bob's dear, sweet mother.
Oh, no, no, no.
Rita is my empress.
- It's me wife.
- Honey Bee: Wife? Wife, like in "wife," like married wife? [gasps.]
Rita, my newest baby.
This Honey Bee.
[jamaican accent.]
Oh, so you are the woman Bob is cheating on the woman he's cheating on me with? [stammering.]
Cindy, say hi to Honey Bee.
[gasps.]
My name is Cindy Breakspeare, former miss world and Bob's number-one woman after Rita.
Honey Bee: Uh, I ain't a English major, but wouldn't that - make you number two? - Oh, you're wrong, child.
That would mean there's someone before me after Rita, and there is no one before me after Rita except me.
Honey Bee: Okay, beauty queen who can't count.
- Daddy! Daddy! - Papa! Papa! - Daddy! - Honey Bee: Uh, "daddy"? I can't.
I think I need some antibiotics.
Ooh! [thudding.]
Cream Corn: This is our last door.
Bullhorn: Man, we could have avoided this entire situation.
Next time, we sending the Johns with the whores on ho-cation.
B.
D.
: Okay, we got two choices.
One, we give them Cream Corn, or two, we pretend to be horny zombies so they don't do whatever horny zombies do - to people who ain't horny zombies.
- Cream Corn: For some reason, I like number two better than number one.
- How do we do it? - B.
D.
: Alright.
Remember their faces? Their eyes are vacant with a hint of sadness, like a man who ain't had no [bleep.]
in years.
- Cream Corn, you just act normal.
- Cream Corn: I can definitely do that.
B.
D.
: I can't believe I'm saying this, and what I'm saying I damn-sure can't believe, but I'm-a need you to get your dicks hard.
- Cream Corn: Huh? - B.
D.
: Look, the only way to pull the wool over their vacant eyes is with your morning glory.
[all growling.]
We want every part of the whores! I need hoes up under me! I know you got 'em! Me no know why you upset.
Me tell you I was taking you - to meet me fambly.
- Honey Bee: You didn't tell me you were married with kids.
How many girlfriends do you - have, huh, Mr.
Giant Spliff? - Well, the Bible say, "be fruitful and multiply," and it easier to multiply if you have more than one woman to be fruitful with.
Honey Bee: Oh, it's like you slept with - the whole damn island! - No, no, baby.
I not an animal like that.
Only the female half.
Honey Bee: Ooh, I better not have caught nothing! Look, baby love, let's have this conversation later.
I'm gonna be late for the one love peace concert.
Honey Bee: [grunts.]
Okay, next time, I'm going to the peaceful half of Jamaica.
- Does this mean you not stay? - Honey Bee: I do want to stay, Bob, but I don't know if I can do all that number one to the two and two to the one or the four to five however y'all do all that [bleep.]
and what the [bleep.]
is up with all these assassination attempts? Assassination attempts always pick up before a big concert.
Dynamite! Dynamite! - Cream Corn: Okay, I'm ready.
- B.
D.
: I can't tell.
Here.
Use this.
Meet me by the car when we get out.
We need whores! [all growling.]
[clattering.]
[all shouting, growling.]
[mid-tempo reggae music plays.]
[cheers and applause.]
Honey Bee: The white bitch.
Aah! [grunts.]
So, if it isn't the darker light-skinned tramp Bob's been sleeping with.
Honey Bee: Uh, hey, Becky, or whatever your name is, - why are you trying to kill Bob? - I've had me eye on you ever since you come to Jamaica.
[indistinct shouting.]
Bob was mine and all the other women in Jamaica, but now it's all about you.
You the only one he seems to want, and he gave you my nickname, "Baby.
" Honey Bee: You crazy bitch.
Everyone calls everyone "baby.
" I ought to slap the [bleep.]
out of you! [both grunting.]
[laughs.]
You think that's me only machete, you light dark bitch? Honey Bee: Look, I don't care how many machetes you got Wait.
What'd you call me? [both grunting.]
Aah! - Wait now, mon.
- Why your hair never come off? - Honey Bee: My titty! - Aah! [grunts.]
Aah! [both grunting.]
Honey Bee: Fake-ass jamaican bitch.
Ugh.
[sighs.]
[cheers and applause.]
I'm almost done packing so we can go back to hope road.
Me had a talk with Cindy.
She still want to kill you, but every lickle thing's gonna be all right.
Honey Bee: Good.
Now come over and give me - that tuff gong.
- Okay, but me want you meet someone first.
Tis is Yvette, who me just met on me way up here.
She's me new number one - to me number one.
- Honey Bee: What?! Okay, now, this is some bull[bleep.]
.
So let me guess I'm supposed to be your number two? I done got shot at, jumped off of mountains and [bleep.]
.
- Oh, you got me [bleep.]
up.
- No, no, you never be number two.
It just means you're just not - number one.
- Honey Bee: I know you're a good person that truly does not understand how this kind of [bleep.]
would make a bitch kill you, but I can't do this, Bob.
- You I-I'm going home.
- I get it.
- Me understand.
Respect.
- Honey Bee: Respect? That's it? What happened to, "get up, stand up, don't give up the fight"? Where's the fight for me, Bob? You know what? Y'all get the [bleep.]
out of here before I kill you, her, number three, four, five, six, and every other bitch with a damn number.
Get the [bleep.]
out! [sighs.]
"Dicksidental"? What the hell is a dicksidental? $5,000? All we had was some hot dogs - and some nuts! - That, and you got a whole lot of room service from Dexter, Saint, Jacques.
Says here you had the Blue Mountain Dew Me, several Alabama Rude Boy Slammers, the two girls, one [bleep.]
sex literally on the beach, et cetera, et cetera.
You mean Dexter, Saint, Jacques are he-whores? Maybe we should have been sucking and [bleep.]
for money.
Then we'd be able to afford all the sucking and [bleep.]
we did.
Bob, if you love her, why you let her go? She saved me life.
She deserve a man who will be totally dedicated, love, and cherish her, and, most important, won't make her cut off him penis.
Honey Bee, are you gonna be all right? Honey Bee: I'll be fine.
[sniffles.]
Ooh, but I don't know how my [bleep.]
's gonna live without him.
[all growling.]
- Whores! - Give us brains! B.
D.
: When we get to the top, pull up the ladder so they can't follow us.
You dig? Cream Corn: Aah! Whoa! Whoa! Help, Black Dynamite! Because if I get turned into one of them, I'm-a get you, too.
B.
D.
: Cream Corn, shut up before they put - something in your mouth.
- Cream Corn: It's too late! [whimpers.]
[sighs.]
Aw [bleep.]
.
Aah-suey! Hey, y'all! The hoes is back! [all gasp.]
[cheers and applause.]
Hoes to the left of me! B.
D.
: Honey Bee, you're back! - I-I mean, Honey Bee, you back.
- [laughs.]
You know I'm - a make back my $5,000.
- Damn.
- It's like a hero whores welcome.
- Yeah, that's what I'm talking about.
We home now! [all grunt.]
Honey Bee: Ahh.
It's good to be number one again.
Oh.
[chuckles.]
Oh, well, at least I know that's - not a spliff in your pocket.
- B.
D.
: I don't know what that means, Honey Bee, but I am happy you decided - to come home early.
- Honey Bee: Oh, that's so sweet.
B.
D.
: I mean, but who wouldn't be happy to see a plane full of hoes coming back from Jamaica when they surrounded by a bunch of zombie Johns with erections? Dynamite! Dynamite! Well, I have determined that you whores are all whored out.
Oh, and, uh, this one's on me.
Dynamite! Dynamite!
Hello, ladies.
Can you whores get on your knees, please? Now say, "ahh.
" - Ahh.
Mother[bleep.]
Ahh.
- That's it.
[pants unzip.]
Now hold it right there.
Mm-hmm.
Looks like you have - acid gag reflux.
- That is impossible, doc.
- I always use protection.
- Have you experienced any - unusual discharge? - No, just the usual green ones.
Mm-hmm.
Now, Connie Lingus, I'm going to check your peripheral vision, so look straight ahead.
Tell me when you see - the back of my hand.
- Right there! Right there! Please don't hit me, daddy.
Please! [whimpering.]
Your vision is intact, but you do seem to suffer from a bit of post-traumatic pimp-slap syndrome.
[rubber glove snaps.]
Now let's check out those - kegel muscles.
- This little speculum ain't gonna do nothing.
Who this for? We some hoes.
What you think you gonna do with this speculum? Oh, doc, you acting like you scared of the [bleep.]
come on, I'm-a walk you through it 'cause you gonna go straight up this [bleep.]
.
When you get up there, you gonna take the [bleep.]
on the left.
Now, when you get to the fork in that [bleep.]
you gonna take a quick right and come on back down to the new [bleep.]
- that's the one I need examined.
- After a very, very, very thorough and delightful examination, I'm afraid to say that these whores are all whored out.
I am prescribing a week-long whore-cation in Jamaica.
Dynamite! Dynamite! [title music.]
He's Dynamite So Dynamite Ooohhh, ooohhh Ooohhh, aaahhh He's Dynamite Dy-no, Dy-no Ooohhh, ooohhh Ooohhhh Dynamite! Dynamite! Bullhorn: This week - B.
D.
: And here's your tickets, Bee.
- Why would I need to go on a ho-cation? B.
D.
: 'Cause you need a break, too, Honey Bee, obviously not from sucking and [bleep.]
but from managing all - the sucking and [bleep.]
.
- Honey Bee: What are y'all - gonna be doing while we're gone? - B.
D.
: Since the orphans are all away at orphan camp, I figured it'd be a good time to renovate the Whorephanage.
Bullhorn: We need to fix these beds, chairs, chandeliers, and floors, 'cause even the furniture's worn out like these whores! [metal detector whirring.]
Honey Bee: Damn, it looks like every vagina in the black - community is here.
- No, I ain't gonna take [bleep.]
off.
No, I ain't doing a mother[bleep.]
thing.
Bitch, don't fall for that [bleep.]
don't let that [bleep.]
feel on you like that.
You got to pay for that [bleep.]
give a [bleep.]
where you at [bleep.]
.
Who is your pastor? Cream Corn: Okay, what do we - do now, Black Dynamite? - B.
D.
: Not sure.
I'm afraid my skill set has only allowed me to put people - through walls, not nails.
- Cream Corn: Well, we can use this.
B.
D.
: "Repairing Whorephanages for suckas"? Cream Corn: Yep, it's a how-to book.
They have a whole series.
"Walking in platform shoes for suckas," "How to keep your pimp hand strong for suckas," - "How not to be a sucka " - B.
D.
: I don't care how much it'll help.
I ain't reading it 'cause Black Dynamite ain't no "sucka.
" [telephone rings.]
Cream Corn: Man, Frank the John's been calling all day asking where the hoes at.
Bullhorn: Frank the John, I know you calling for some sucking and [bleep.]
fun, but the whores ain't here right now.
They're living dick-free in the land of the mother[bleep.]
sun! [tropical music plays.]
- [jamaican accent.]
Rhatid, dem amazing.
- Oh, me see dem.
Dem so beautiful, old, wrinkled, and pale.
[slap.]
Not dem, boy the one next to dem.
Come in.
We go over there.
Nobody mess this up, you know.
- Let's go.
- I like Jamaica, but why it - got so many Jamaicans? - Wait a minute.
- Jamaicans come in vanilla? - Honey Bee: Y'all shouldn't be looking at no men anyway.
We came here to give your - suckers and [bleep.]
a break.
- Yeah, we need a break from sucking and [bleep.]
but you need some sucking and [bleep.]
.
Hello, ladies.
I'm your server, Dexter.
This is Saint, and this is Jacques.
Together, we are Dexter Saint Jacques.
- Hors d'oeuvres? - Yeah, that's what I'm talking about.
Honey Bee: Unh-unh! The doctor said no sex, and that includes food that you can [bleep.]
How we supposed to enjoy our ho-cation if you don't relax? Honey Bee: I'm relaxed.
I'm having a-a real good time.
[chuckles.]
The only thing having a good time is that stick up your ass.
Mm, she's right.
You need to stop bottom bitching and get you some of these jamaican hot dogs.
Honey Bee: [sighs.]
I guess you're right.
Black Dynamite did send me here to relax.
Maybe I just need to go lay on the beach.
No, you need to get laid on the beach.
[laughter.]
Yeah, we can hear your [bleep.]
when you walk, bitch.
You too dry, hoe.
B.
D.
: Suey! Suey! Suey! Suey! Bullhorn: Now, I ain't racist, and I don't mean to clown, but, damn, I wish there was some mother[bleep.]
Mexicans around! [chuckles.]
[telephone rings.]
Should have been a sucka.
B.
D.
: Get the phone, sucka.
Cream Corn: Oh, no need, Black Dynamite.
I put a sign by the phone that says, "we all whored out," so we ain't even got to answer.
[knock on door.]
Frank the John? John the John? - What do you want? - What do we want? You see all these rock-hard dicks standing in front of you? We need some [bleep.]
and sucking, and we need it now! And if you ain't got [bleep.]
and sucking, we'll take some - sucking and [bleep.]
- Cream Corn: Didn't y'all hear the sign? We fresh out of hoes.
- Aren't y'all married, anyway? - Of course we're married.
Why you think we here? Look, I can't walk around like this all day.
I-I work in a school with kids.
- My dick is harder than slavery.
- Yeah, this is dangerous, man.
I have to walk home through a gay neighborhood with all this.
Come on, man.
You you got to have a hoe up in there somewhere.
Ooh, what about that big, fat Laffy Taffy bitch? We we could split her.
Cream Corn: Bye and bye! [grunts.]
[growls.]
We need whores! Give us brains! [all growling.]
[tropical music plays.]
# all right # I'm Jamaican [ting!.]
[all screaming.]
with the big, black jamaican tool I'm Jamaican [screaming continues.]
and I'll give you a jamaican screw well I walk into the party grab a lady and get naughty [jamaican accent.]
Me name's Bob Bob Marley.
Honey Bee: [snoring.]
[ting!.]
- Aah! - Yeah.
Shabba.
Honey Bee: Mmm.
Mmm.
Mmm, this is some good jamaican ice cream.
Sorry for almost knocking your head off back there, but you just can't be walking up on a bitch on the beach.
That's all right, daughter.
I was really just trying - to protect my spliff.
- Honey Bee: Now, what you say your name was again? Mustafah Marley? Matumbo? - What what what? - Bob.
Bob Marley.
- I and I is a reggae star.
- Honey Bee: Well, I never heard of you.
Must not be that good, but keep working.
Who knows? One day, you might be as famous as Marlon Jackson.
[chuckles.]
Me originally was stunned by your beauty, but the fact you no care who I am a-turn me on.
Honey Bee: Good, 'cause I was trying not to say nothing, but you need to comb that nappy-ass hair.
A coconut for my little coconut.
Hold up.
Hold up.
Hold up.
The Bob Marley woke you up and saved you from getting sunburned? Honey Bee: Girl, yes, and then he climbed up a coconut tree, massaged my feet, carried me in his arms along the beach.
Oh [bleep.]
.
Then what, girl? Then what? Honey Bee: Then he got frisky on me when I let him rub suntan lotion on me.
I know good and damn well that the inside of my vagina can't get sunburned.
- Dexter, you damn liar.
- Me can't believe the biggest reggae star in the world invited us to him private rehearsal show before the one love peace concert.
Honey Bee: First of all, I don't know you.
Second, he invited me.
Third, I'm not going.
And fourth, who the [bleep.]
was talking to you? For a woman who run a whorehouse, you're pretty.
When the last time you let a man back up in front - of your butt from the back? - He's right.
When was the last time you felt love in the heart - of your [bleep.]
? - Honey Bee: It ain't been - that long.
10 years, maybe.
- Child, that thing probably - don't even work no more.
[chuckles.]
- Honey Bee: My little [bleep.]
[bleep.]
just fine.
I just don't [bleep.]
with love.
Well, me and Dexter [bleep.]
with it all night long.
[laughs.]
We do? Oh, yeah, we do.
We fall in love at first [bleep.]
or is it [bleep.]
at first sight? Me forget.
[smooches.]
Honey Bee: Ugh! Sucking and [bleep.]
for free is disgusting! Now, I taught you hoes to be classier than that.
[door slams.]
# Dynamite! Dynamite! # [rattling.]
[all groaning, shouting.]
Cream Corn: Black Dynamite, you might want to come and see this.
[all growling.]
Bullhorn: These Johns ain't had sex and are all backed up with semen, and it's damn-near turned them into horny, - mindless demons.
- B.
D.
: What should we do, Cream Corn? Cream Corn: I don't know.
Why you asking me? B.
D.
: 'Cause you and a monk are the only ones I know who can deal successfully without getting ass for long periods of time, - and there ain't no monk here I can ask.
- Bullhorn: Well, we can't call the police.
The mother[bleep.]
are out there, too, dry humping the building and ready to screw.
[glass shatters.]
Cream Corn: What are we waiting for? Let's kill the Walking Dead dead! Bullhorn: Cream Corn, we can't do these mother[bleep.]
no damage 'cause these zombie Johns got us at an unfair dick-advantage.
[singing indistinctly.]
# Let's go raw # I know you understand right in de palm of my hand don't need de rubber let's go raw I know you'll understand can you feel it? [indistinct shouting.]
Honey Bee: Huh, that's strange.
- Don't y'all know he ain't famous? - Hey, you like me song, eh? Honey Bee: I-I guess it sounded good, even though I had - no idea what you were saying.
- Honey Bee, something special about you in a jubee.
You have me soul.
I jump around and flash and turn upside down and flip-flop and skydive and all kind of ting.
You know what me say? Honey Bee: I hope you got a Bob Marley-to-English dictionary 'cause your broken English is really broken, so I don't know - You understand what me a-say now? - Honey Bee: Ooh, oh.
I-I guess I do.
You know, I-I usually don't allow men to get this close to me, but for some strange reason, I don't have my guards up with you.
You make me feel so safe.
[gun cocks.]
It's time to die, Marley! [gun cocks.]
Honey Bee: With the exception of these three mother[bleep.]
with machine guns! What the hell?! Dynamite! Dynamite! [all screaming.]
Honey Bee: Uh, Bob, what - the [bleep.]
is going on? - No worry, Bee.
Just some man try and kill I.
- Me got your ass this time, boy.
- No, I-I got him! [jamaican accent.]
No, me got him! Honey Bee: [grunts.]
[chuckles.]
Come on! [gunfire.]
Way too positive.
Music too damn positive.
Come back here! I go and block you! - I go and block you, Bob! - Honey Bee: Oh! [both shouting indistinctly.]
[gunfire.]
Ooh! [tires squeal.]
[gunfire continues.]
Honey Bee: [bleep.]
with all this damn weed, I thought this island would be way more peaceful! - Well, some parts are peaceful.
- Honey Bee: What parts, Bob?! Uh, mostly the parts I'm not in.
[bleep.]
What you guys doing here? According to my Bob Marley assassination schedule, it's the Jamaica labour party's turn to try and kill him.
No, it's not.
My schedule says the people's national party turn.
Look here.
Foul, foul.
That's last year's schedule, Man.
- Rhatid! You're right! - Told you.
And who is you? I'm with the C.
I.
A.
, asshole.
[bleep.]
I got to go back - and get my arm.
- Who are you, man? I don't see you up on this schedule.
[all screaming.]
Honey Bee: Aren't you afraid of people trying to kill you? Me a rebel, man, who don't have no help, nor take no bribe and fight single-handed with the music in me heart for - the people them.
- Honey Bee: [bleep.]
fighting with music.
You need a damn gun, bulletproof vest, something.
Well, I guess if you're not afraid to die, I shouldn't be afraid of love.
Ohh, you sure know how to sweep a bottom bitch off her bottom.
Booyaka! Booyaka! Cream Corn: The whores ain't picking up.
When they coming back? B.
D.
: Maybe they put a note by the phone so you could read it.
[glass shattering.]
Damn, the Johns are trying to flood us out.
All: We need whores! Give us brains! - Honey Bee: Mm.
- Baby, why you always wear - so much clothes? - Honey Bee: I'm in a bikini.
- I'm damn-near naked.
- No.
Now you are.
Wow, jah has clearly, clearly, clearly blessed you.
You is so beautiful - both of you.
- Honey Bee: Oh, my gosh.
- You like my giant spliff? - Honey Bee: Mm-hmm.
I want to smoke it.
Oh, a real spliff? Okay, really? Mm.
[water splashing.]
Yeah.
[moaning.]
[animals screeching.]
Ahh! Booyaka! Booyaka! Ohh, you just made up for in one night.
Whoo, my vagina she got her groove back, but you blew my back out.
Would you stay if me promised to give your vagina - it groove back every day? - Honey Bee: This is beautiful and all, but this ain't gonna last, sweetheart.
I got to go back to the whorephan Mm.
Mm.
Mm.
Me love you, Bee.
Now what you say, baby? Honey Bee: Aw, damn! I'm in love at first [bleep.]
.
[telephone rings.]
[moaning.]
[whimpers.]
Honey Bee: What are you girls doing? - Are you girls sucking and [bleep.]
- Just getting a little - late-night room service.
- Honey Bee: Well, guess what.
- Me, too! - What?! Hey, y'all! Bob Marley knocked the dust off Honey Bee's [bleep.]
! [laughs.]
Cobwebs and all! So, when you coming back to the hotel to give us - all the details, girl? - Honey Bee: Well, that's the thing, see.
I'm not coming back to the hotel.
I'm not leaving Jamaica.
Honey Bee, you can't do that.
Girl, this is just ho-cation dick! What am I supposed to tell B.
D.
? Honey Bee: Tell him I said, "goodbye.
" You sure, Bee? I love you so much, Bee.
Me a-take you to meet me fambly.
[birds chirping.]
[indistinct conversations.]
[laughter.]
Honey Bee: Oh, there's a lot of women and children here.
It reminds me of my Whorephanage.
I'm gonna fit right in.
But who's this ho? It is a pleasure to meet Bob's dear, sweet mother.
Oh, no, no, no.
Rita is my empress.
- It's me wife.
- Honey Bee: Wife? Wife, like in "wife," like married wife? [gasps.]
Rita, my newest baby.
This Honey Bee.
[jamaican accent.]
Oh, so you are the woman Bob is cheating on the woman he's cheating on me with? [stammering.]
Cindy, say hi to Honey Bee.
[gasps.]
My name is Cindy Breakspeare, former miss world and Bob's number-one woman after Rita.
Honey Bee: Uh, I ain't a English major, but wouldn't that - make you number two? - Oh, you're wrong, child.
That would mean there's someone before me after Rita, and there is no one before me after Rita except me.
Honey Bee: Okay, beauty queen who can't count.
- Daddy! Daddy! - Papa! Papa! - Daddy! - Honey Bee: Uh, "daddy"? I can't.
I think I need some antibiotics.
Ooh! [thudding.]
Cream Corn: This is our last door.
Bullhorn: Man, we could have avoided this entire situation.
Next time, we sending the Johns with the whores on ho-cation.
B.
D.
: Okay, we got two choices.
One, we give them Cream Corn, or two, we pretend to be horny zombies so they don't do whatever horny zombies do - to people who ain't horny zombies.
- Cream Corn: For some reason, I like number two better than number one.
- How do we do it? - B.
D.
: Alright.
Remember their faces? Their eyes are vacant with a hint of sadness, like a man who ain't had no [bleep.]
in years.
- Cream Corn, you just act normal.
- Cream Corn: I can definitely do that.
B.
D.
: I can't believe I'm saying this, and what I'm saying I damn-sure can't believe, but I'm-a need you to get your dicks hard.
- Cream Corn: Huh? - B.
D.
: Look, the only way to pull the wool over their vacant eyes is with your morning glory.
[all growling.]
We want every part of the whores! I need hoes up under me! I know you got 'em! Me no know why you upset.
Me tell you I was taking you - to meet me fambly.
- Honey Bee: You didn't tell me you were married with kids.
How many girlfriends do you - have, huh, Mr.
Giant Spliff? - Well, the Bible say, "be fruitful and multiply," and it easier to multiply if you have more than one woman to be fruitful with.
Honey Bee: Oh, it's like you slept with - the whole damn island! - No, no, baby.
I not an animal like that.
Only the female half.
Honey Bee: Ooh, I better not have caught nothing! Look, baby love, let's have this conversation later.
I'm gonna be late for the one love peace concert.
Honey Bee: [grunts.]
Okay, next time, I'm going to the peaceful half of Jamaica.
- Does this mean you not stay? - Honey Bee: I do want to stay, Bob, but I don't know if I can do all that number one to the two and two to the one or the four to five however y'all do all that [bleep.]
and what the [bleep.]
is up with all these assassination attempts? Assassination attempts always pick up before a big concert.
Dynamite! Dynamite! - Cream Corn: Okay, I'm ready.
- B.
D.
: I can't tell.
Here.
Use this.
Meet me by the car when we get out.
We need whores! [all growling.]
[clattering.]
[all shouting, growling.]
[mid-tempo reggae music plays.]
[cheers and applause.]
Honey Bee: The white bitch.
Aah! [grunts.]
So, if it isn't the darker light-skinned tramp Bob's been sleeping with.
Honey Bee: Uh, hey, Becky, or whatever your name is, - why are you trying to kill Bob? - I've had me eye on you ever since you come to Jamaica.
[indistinct shouting.]
Bob was mine and all the other women in Jamaica, but now it's all about you.
You the only one he seems to want, and he gave you my nickname, "Baby.
" Honey Bee: You crazy bitch.
Everyone calls everyone "baby.
" I ought to slap the [bleep.]
out of you! [both grunting.]
[laughs.]
You think that's me only machete, you light dark bitch? Honey Bee: Look, I don't care how many machetes you got Wait.
What'd you call me? [both grunting.]
Aah! - Wait now, mon.
- Why your hair never come off? - Honey Bee: My titty! - Aah! [grunts.]
Aah! [both grunting.]
Honey Bee: Fake-ass jamaican bitch.
Ugh.
[sighs.]
[cheers and applause.]
I'm almost done packing so we can go back to hope road.
Me had a talk with Cindy.
She still want to kill you, but every lickle thing's gonna be all right.
Honey Bee: Good.
Now come over and give me - that tuff gong.
- Okay, but me want you meet someone first.
Tis is Yvette, who me just met on me way up here.
She's me new number one - to me number one.
- Honey Bee: What?! Okay, now, this is some bull[bleep.]
.
So let me guess I'm supposed to be your number two? I done got shot at, jumped off of mountains and [bleep.]
.
- Oh, you got me [bleep.]
up.
- No, no, you never be number two.
It just means you're just not - number one.
- Honey Bee: I know you're a good person that truly does not understand how this kind of [bleep.]
would make a bitch kill you, but I can't do this, Bob.
- You I-I'm going home.
- I get it.
- Me understand.
Respect.
- Honey Bee: Respect? That's it? What happened to, "get up, stand up, don't give up the fight"? Where's the fight for me, Bob? You know what? Y'all get the [bleep.]
out of here before I kill you, her, number three, four, five, six, and every other bitch with a damn number.
Get the [bleep.]
out! [sighs.]
"Dicksidental"? What the hell is a dicksidental? $5,000? All we had was some hot dogs - and some nuts! - That, and you got a whole lot of room service from Dexter, Saint, Jacques.
Says here you had the Blue Mountain Dew Me, several Alabama Rude Boy Slammers, the two girls, one [bleep.]
sex literally on the beach, et cetera, et cetera.
You mean Dexter, Saint, Jacques are he-whores? Maybe we should have been sucking and [bleep.]
for money.
Then we'd be able to afford all the sucking and [bleep.]
we did.
Bob, if you love her, why you let her go? She saved me life.
She deserve a man who will be totally dedicated, love, and cherish her, and, most important, won't make her cut off him penis.
Honey Bee, are you gonna be all right? Honey Bee: I'll be fine.
[sniffles.]
Ooh, but I don't know how my [bleep.]
's gonna live without him.
[all growling.]
- Whores! - Give us brains! B.
D.
: When we get to the top, pull up the ladder so they can't follow us.
You dig? Cream Corn: Aah! Whoa! Whoa! Help, Black Dynamite! Because if I get turned into one of them, I'm-a get you, too.
B.
D.
: Cream Corn, shut up before they put - something in your mouth.
- Cream Corn: It's too late! [whimpers.]
[sighs.]
Aw [bleep.]
.
Aah-suey! Hey, y'all! The hoes is back! [all gasp.]
[cheers and applause.]
Hoes to the left of me! B.
D.
: Honey Bee, you're back! - I-I mean, Honey Bee, you back.
- [laughs.]
You know I'm - a make back my $5,000.
- Damn.
- It's like a hero whores welcome.
- Yeah, that's what I'm talking about.
We home now! [all grunt.]
Honey Bee: Ahh.
It's good to be number one again.
Oh.
[chuckles.]
Oh, well, at least I know that's - not a spliff in your pocket.
- B.
D.
: I don't know what that means, Honey Bee, but I am happy you decided - to come home early.
- Honey Bee: Oh, that's so sweet.
B.
D.
: I mean, but who wouldn't be happy to see a plane full of hoes coming back from Jamaica when they surrounded by a bunch of zombie Johns with erections? Dynamite! Dynamite! Well, I have determined that you whores are all whored out.
Oh, and, uh, this one's on me.
Dynamite! Dynamite!