The Boondocks s03e04 Episode Script

I am the stone that the builder refused I am the visual, the inspiration that made lady sing the blues I'm the spark that makes your idea bright the same spark that lights the dark so that you can know your left from your right I am the ballot in your box, the bullet in the gun the inner glow that lets you know to call your brother son the story that just begun the promise of what's to come and I'ma remain a soldier till the war is won chop chop chop judo flip chop chop chop judo flip You ready, son? Ready as I'm gonna be, I guess.
Just believe in the music, son.
Ladies and gents, we got a real special treat for y'all tonight.
Let's give a big 'ol [bleep.]
kicker's welcome to Jimmy Rebel! How y'all doin'? Uh, how y'all doin'? How are you? My name's Jimmy Rebel.
This first number's a song I wrote.
It's very near and dear to me, and it's about niggers.
A-one, a-two.
A-one, two, three.
Step back, silverback hold on, blackie steal some gas for your Cadillac-y head downtown with them coons and clowns just stay away from me laquita, shenita, and Jamaal orangelo, mangelo, and Tylenol grab an orange sod-y and a basketball just leave my daughter be keep to yourself stay away from mine open your eyes and mouth so I can see you shine open up your nose put in a fresh bone just leave my snow-driven beauty Caucasian cutie pure, demure, and classically snooty sweet white daughter alone nigge-r-r-r Ruckus, look.
Woo, baby! Wow! C'mon, ruckus, hurry up, look! porch monkey no free rides, darky coon lips Ruckus.
jigaboo-woo-woo Ruckus! What, what, what, what, what? What are you listening to? Only the greatest country-western and racist singer to ever breathe into a microphone -- Mr.
Jimmy Rebel.
Go on -- listen, listen.
What did he just say? Oh, my God.
Uh-huh.
See that? That's nice, ain't it? That son of a bitch! Get this bull [bleep.]
out of here! That's just sick! What you sayin'? His music is responsible for the man you see before you today.
He inspired my love for racist music.
You know, sometimes I write my own racist songs.
I think they're pretty good, too.
Well, keep 'em to yourself.
Nobody want to hear that [bleep.]
You black fool.
Oh, yeah? Just 'cause you said that, I'm gonna go home and record 'em! So there! Fine, then get the [bleep.]
on! I will! Fine! Fine! Fine! Soon as we finish this game.
I think it's your move.
Dear Mr.
Jimmy Rebel I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits.
My name is Uncle ruckus, no relation, and I am first and foremost a lover of beautiful music.
I proudly play your music while at work at one of my many, many jobs.
It always elicits a response.
Shut off that [bleep.]
damn [bleep.]
you fat racist [bleep.]
Please find enclosed the song "keep them niggas outta nascar.
" It was inspired by all of the niggas I hope we can keep out of nascar.
Tennis been took over by the dark side golf has a black smudge on its face baseball ain't been the same since coons came into the game stealing everything, including second base that extra bone in they leg is right for running jumpin' like a monkey and hurdlin' high and far let 'em run and jump and skip and do the pickaninny flip but keep their black hands off of my nascar please keep them niggas outta nascar we don't need no hoopties in the danger zone niggas don't carjack my darlin' nascar I like it.
It's the last great thing a white man can call his own got a good beat.
Last great thing a white man can call his own Good morning, Mr.
White man, sir.
How can I -- Excuse me, I'm, uh, lookin' for the residence of Mr.
Uncle ruckus.
Y-y-you lookin' -- you said you lookin' f-f-for, uh, for Uncle -- you know him? Well, thank God.
I been driving around forever.
Well, this, uh This is the place.
Oh, well, is Mr.
ruckus home? He's not expecting me.
This is kind of a surprise.
My name is Jimmy Rebel.
I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! I am your biggest fan! I can't believe it! Well, I can't believe it, either.
I never met a Black who liked my music.
Oh, wait.
Oh, my God.
You're not -- no, you can't be -- Uh, uh, no, no, sir! No, sir, I am not Uncle ruckus, sir.
Phew! I was gonna say, man Yeah, yeah, that -- that would be crazy, wouldn't it? That'd be weird.
Yeah, well, no, sir.
No, sir, uh -- my name is, uh -- my name is Toby.
I'm Mr.
Ruckus's loyal manservant.
No, sir.
Uncle ruckus is a true-blue, red-blooded, American white man.
Well, if Mr.
ruckus isn't too busy, I'd like to speak to him.
Now, I know that Uncle ruckus would really love to speak with you, Mr.
Jimmy Rebel, sir, but, uh, well, he's not here.
Oh, well, this was the return address on the tape he sent up.
Oh, no, no, no.
See, Uncle ruckus -- he don't live here.
This -- this here is my place.
No, sir, Mr.
ruckus -- he got him a proper white-folks house.
Uh, we just use this here address, you know, for the death threats and the mail bombs, stuff like that.
Oh, yeah, yeah, I know all about that stuff.
Well, listen, if you wouldn't mind giving me his address or maybe just call him, and, uh, see if it's all right if I stop by? Oh, yes, sir, I-I would do that, sir, but, uh, well, unfortunately, uh Uh, Mr.
Uncle ruckus, you see, he is -- he's very, very sick.
He caught the, uh, the nigerian very contagious.
As if they Internet scams and underwear bombs wasn't bad enough.
Damn nigerians.
Mm, well, that is just tragic.
I do know that Mr.
Ruckus, he be very mad at me if I didn't offer you a cold drink after coming all this way.
Thank you, Toby, but, uh, well, it's gettin' late.
Uh, mis-- Mr.
Rebel, sir Yes, Toby? I just wanted to say, sir, that a lot of people can talk bad about darkies, but you make art that talks bad about darkies.
Well, hell, Toby, aw, why don't you go ahead and fix me that drink? Yes, sir, Mr.
Rebel, sir! Oh, by the way, have you ever heard of re-vitiligo? Oh, Mr.
Rebel! You know, all these years, I been singing about niggers, I probably only done had a conversation with five of 'em at the most.
Are there any others like you? Oh, absolutely not.
No, sir.
There ain't one good nigger ever stepped foot on this earth, 'cept maybe Alan keyes or that nigga that shot Malcolm x.
You are a funny guy.
Well I should be gettin' back to the hotel.
Hey, I'll leave you my number.
Maybe he'll be feeling better tomorrow.
Uh, well, we'll see, we'll see.
But you should come by, anyway.
I, uh, I-I be happy to show you around the town.
Oh, sure thing, Toby.
You got my number.
Ruckus? Ruckus? Ruckus! Robert, have you ever met somebody who seemed to like you but it's only because they don't know the real you? Yeah, that's pretty much every woman I've ever dated.
So you met someone, huh? Oh, yeah, yes, I did, Robert -- somebody very special.
But I don't know if -- if it's all a lie, how far can it go? Well, how big is the lie? Well, uh, I'm supposed to be a white man.
Without re-vitiligo.
You know what, Robert? You and everybody who live in your household.
Okay, whitey.
Good mornin', Mr.
Rebel! Uh, I talked to Uncle ruckus for a second.
Poor guy could barely lift up the telephone.
He said he can't talk today, but I'm under direct orders to show you the best day woodcrest can offer.
Shoot, why not? Hop in, Toby, let's go! I love you like coons love chicken I love you like jews love penny-pinchin' I love you like o.
J.
Love white women I love you like gooks love communism I love you like niggers love welfare I love you like black girls love to wear fake hair I love you like chinks love math and sneakin' I love you like jungle bunnies love sleepin' well, buddy, can't you see you're all right with me you're a man's man You're all right with me you're a man's man Well, Toby, this has been one amazing day.
Oh, the world needs more white men like you, Jimmy Rebel.
America gettin' soft on niggas.
Hell, they even elected one president! I bet that's got to burn you up.
Yeah, you know, a lot of people think, you know, that I spend all day just angry at negroes.
Lord knows I do.
But it's hard to be angry, you know? I mean, don't get me wrong -- I believe in white rights and all that, but overall I'm a pretty happy fella.
You know what the liberals and the n.
A.
A.
C.
P.
Never could figure out? It's not about the color of a man's skin.
It's not the big lips or how y'all say "ar-ruh" instead of "r.
" Or the fact they wear they ass on they shoulders.
Right! It's the attitude, stupid.
A feller can't control what color he is, but he can control his attitude.
If all blacks acted like you, Toby -- if they worked hard and stopped complaining about every Damn thing, then we wouldn't have no problem with 'em at all.
Well, I better be gettin' on.
But it's still early.
We can -- we can watch "amistad" again.
I can make you some s'mores or something.
Nah, you've been too kind.
I've got a flight back to spokenhoke tomorrow night.
Anyway, you think it'd be possible to talk to Mr.
Ruckus before I leave? Well, you can always tell me.
I'll pass the message along.
Well, it relates to business, so I'd prefer to tell him directly.
I think it's somethin' he'll want to hear.
Y-yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
I'll, uh, I'll do my best.
Okay, well, guess I'll be takin' off.
Well, you have a good night, sir.
Robert, Robert, Robert, I'm desperate! I can't keep up this charade no more.
He about to leave! Well, you should have thought about that before you stood me up.
"He"?! Jimmy Rebel! Wait -- you mean the racist singer? That's the "special person" you've been seeing? You got sugar in your boots? Wait, wait, wait a minute now, Robert! This ain't about no faggotry.
You see, I sent him my music, and he liked it so much he came out here to meet me, but I told him the real Uncle ruckus was a white man and that I'm his faithful manservant, Toby.
Damn it, Robert, this is serious! Robert, he want to talk to the real Uncle ruckus! I think it's got something to do with my music.
Ruckus, this is the silliest [bleep.]
I've ever heard.
Why would I want to help you with this? I have dreams just like everybody else.
I want to make beautiful, beautiful racist music for the world of white people to enjoy, and this is my only shot.
Now, you and I both know I hate darkies -- lord knows I do! But I am not afraid to say, Robert Freeman, that I hate you a lot less than I hate the others.
Oh, my God! He's here! Okay, hurry up, hurry up.
Get in your room, get in your room! Don't forget -- you a white man and you got nigerian monkeypox! You got to go.
You got to go.
Baboon-bama.
Steady, ruckus.
Steady.
Well, hey, there, Toby! How's our patient? Very sick and still contagious.
But he insisted you come over and talk to him today.
Uh, please Uh, uh, m-m-mr.
Ruckus? Uh, Mr.
Rebel is here to see you.
Oh, hello, there, uh, partner.
Mr.
ruckus, I don't want to take up too much of your time.
I just wanted to say you're one heck of a songwriter and, uh, not a bad singer, either.
Well, uh, from one white man to another Thank you kindly.
You know, a lot of times with our kind of music, people get so caught up in the hate part of it, but I can definitely hear the love in your music.
Well, master ruckus -- he love hatin' niggas.
Ain't that right, master ruckus? Oh, yeah, I hate african-americans.
Oh, go ahead, tell him how much you hate them niggas, master ruckus.
Oh, well, uh, uh If hating people of African descent is wrong I don't want to be right.
See? With your permission, I'd like to record your song.
And I'd like for you to come to spokenhoke with me and record an album together.
Well, uh, that sounds great.
Let's make some good ol' racist music together.
Well, sir, I want you to rest up and get better, so I'm gonna go ahead and get out of your hair.
I went ahead and brought you a present -- hope you don't mind.
These are autographed copies of my albums, "coonsville" Hey! "Welfare queen and Cadillac king," "help me, I'm surrounded by coons," "don't let your nigglets grow up to be niggers" "I almost N.
A.
A.
C.
-peed myself," "spooks of Hazzard," "black toes and ghettos.
" What the -- >> "how 'bout those crack babies?" "Nigger, stay out of my wife.
" And "niggers don't die.
They just smell that way.
" Aw [bleep.]
this [bleep.]
Okay, that's enough.
Get the [bleep.]
out of my house.
What the hell?! Get out of my way! Robert, no! Toby, who is this? Get this redneck son of a bitch out of my house! What the hell's goin' on?! Oh, lord! The nigerian monkeypox done turned him full-blown nigerian! Get away from him, Mr.
Rebel! Bye, honky! What the hell is goin' on?! Who was that?! Oh! Oh, I can't keep this up no more! It's a charade wrapped in a facade covered in a lie! I am Uncle ruckus! When I sent you them songs, I never in my wildest dreams thought we would ever meet.
I knew that you thought Uncle ruckus was a handsome, strong, Clint eastwood-type white man.
Oh, curse this re-vitiligo! It's okay, ruckus.
I know.
SomehowI've always known.
And, damn it, I don't care.
It's about the music, ain't it? Mr.
Rebel, do you mean Uncle ruckus, you're going to spokenhoke.
Welcome to spokenhoke, jewel of the South.
Our business model is based arnd what we like to call the "hardcore racist" demographic.
Now, that's an audience that pretty much stays consistent from year to year.
Hey, there, Tim, Casey.
Plus, we do our own distribution and cut out the jews, so we do all right for ourselves.
Okay, gang, as you know, I left a few days ago to meet the feller who sent me that amazing song.
Well, I found him.
Everyone, meet Uncle ruckus.
Uh, hey there, good white folks.
How y'all doing? He's a negro who hates niggers, and I want to do an album with him.
Hey, jigger boo, nigger boo, colored coonie black porch monkey, brown baboonie melon muncher, chicken-bone sucker blue-black, silverback, big spearchucker any way you figure the president's a nigger to me That's good.
Hey, listen, let -- let me take this one.
Sing it, ruckus! charcoal, brown bread, jungle bunny ghetto guru, government honey chocolate cricket, spooky nigglet cocoa, negro magpie, black crow any way you figure the president's a nigger to me Lord, I could sing "nigger" all day long.
Hey, there! You've reached Uncle ruckus.
White folks, leave a message.
Black folks, leave town.
Hey, ruckus.
Hey, the woodcrest checkers tournament is coming up.
I was wondering when you gonna be back in town, if those crackers ain't lynched your black ass yet.
Look, call me back, okay? All right.
Bye.
You all right? Yeah, it's just -- I think I miss ruckus.
Does that mean there's something wrong with me? Yeah.
And it's gay.
The president's a nigger to me Oh, I love these songs, gang! Sir, in all honesty, I think this will ruin us.
You guys really think so? Well, we are called "racist records," Jimmy.
I think the public expects racism from us.
Or at least segregation.
Ruckus is more of a racist than anyone in this room -- and that includes me.
Look, Mr.
Rebel, I-I think they might be right.
No, come on now.
Beneath your skin, you're as white as any white man.
And I'm goin' to prove it to you.
Tonight, I'm doing the new stuff at [bleep.]
kicker's, and I want you to come with me.
You mean, like, to drive you there? No! I mean on stage! We're gonna perform together! Oh, no, no, no, no, m-m-mr.
Rebel, I-I don't think I'm ready for -- oh, yes, you are! You got to believe in the music.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
You know, my career started here, more decades ago than I care to remember.
So it also feels right that, uh, this be the place where my career makes a new beginning.
For the first time in my career, I've teamed up with another musician, and this is something we wrote together.
It's called, "one good nigger.
" There ain't no such thing! Well, we know niggers commit crimes and fill up our jails too lazy and shiftless to do for themselves and when they lose in life, well, they wanna blame you and me well, there's niggers who lie niggers who steal niggers who rap and put rims on their wheels and niggers who act like coons on tv Well, but just the other day, during a blizzard in hell I met a colored fella, and as far as I could tell inside, he had a white man's integrity How 'bout that? Well, he had a few jobs, not just one he worked all day till the day was done he loved his country and I thought, "well, I'll be! " I met one good nigger he ain't want nothing free I met one good nigger so y'all just let him be and a nigger like him I'll never meet again but one is all I need well, ladies and gentlemen, I want you to meet my new musical partner and close personal friend.
Uncle ruus, come on out here, buddy! Uncle ruckus? Come on out here, nigger! What the Just what in the [bleep.]
Get that nigger off the stage! Give him a chance! Give him a chance? Well, you probably gave barack Obama a chance, too! You sing with niggers, you probably voted for one! No, I didn't! Mr.
Rebel, no! Mr.
Rebel, careful! Get that nigger! Man, that was fun! But, Mr.
Rebel, I mean, what you gonna do? Your career? You remember when I said how we hate the blacks because of their attitudes? Yeah.
Well, I think that's a load of [bleep.]
You're just like one of us, ruckus, but they still hate you.
And it's not your attitude.
It's 'cause you're black.
And know what else I realized? Most rednecks are really [bleep.]
Stupid, and I mean really [bleep.]
stupid.
I've made some of the best music of my life with you, ruckus.
And I don't intend to stop.
I'm sorry, Mr.
Rebel.
But I can't make music with you no more.
Because because you are not the racist I thought you were.
Ruckus! Wait a minute! Come back here! Forget you ever knew me! Hmph.
Uh You want to play a game? I'm waiting for someone.
Oh.
Ah, okay, you can play till he shows up.
So, how did it go in spokenhoke? Oh, it was -- It went -- I-I should have listened to you.
Ruckus.
I'm sorry, Mr.
Rebel.
I didn't mean what I said before.
I just couldn't stand to watch you throw everything away just for me.
Ruckus, you were right.
I'm just not the racist I used to be.
It's time for me to move on.
Oh, no, Mr.
Rebel.
Your voice is too important for the world.
I can't be responsible for you giving up singing! I'm not gonna give up singin'.
I just want to sing about something other than niggers.
Well, if we ain't gonna be singing about no niggas, what are we gonna be singin' about? There's so many other things to make music about.
There's friends and good times, beer, love -- all kinds of [bleep.]
send the beaners back down to Mexico send the beaners back down to Mexico send the beaners back down to Mexico where they come fro-o-o-m Adios, burritos! Hasta Los huevos! Oh, lord.
Mexicans