Mo' Better Blues

25.000

U-N-l-V-E-R-S-A-L.

Universal. Y'all been large for years.|Yo, Spike, start the movie, G.

Flavor Flav, you've done it again.

He's gotta come outside.

Every time we waste our time here,|we always missin' games.

Yo, Bleek!

Yo, Bleek!

- You coming out to play?|- You're wasting time on him.

l know, man. Yo, Bleek!

We're going to miss the game!

Boys! Boys!

Boys, please be quiet!

Sorry, Mrs Gilliam, we wanted to know|if Bleek can come out.

l understand that,|but this noise has got to stop.

- Psst!|- Oh, man!

Bleek.

- Bleek!

l told you to tell your friends|not to come around.

Leave the boy alone.

- Oan l go outside now?|- When you've finished.

- What about then?|- We'll see.

- Let the boy be a boy, have some fun.|- He could be a bum for all you care.

Running the streets with those kids.

Almost wlthln walklng dlstance|of Forbes Fleld.

He ls just 21 years old.

That child's going to drive me|up the wall. Go tell them to go home.

- You don't let me do nothing.|- You hear what l said?

Go tell him to go home.

Bleek!

Bleek.

Are you coming out?

Yo, Ty,|what'd l tell you about that stuff?

- Are you coming out?|- When l'm done.

- Done what?|- Finished my lesson.

- Forget him.|- We're going.

- l said l'll see you later.|- l'm glad my moms ain't like your moms.

- She lets me do whatever l want.|- Me, too.

- Come on down, you f***ing bum!|- Giant, who you cursing at?

- You!|- You're a effing bum.

- l'll see you later.|- We'll see you later, mama's boy.

- Sissy.|- Who you calling a sissy?

- You!|- You're a sissy, sissy.

When l finish my lessons,|l'll come down.

- Man, he does this every time.|- Thanks for nothing.

We'll win the game without you.

Bleek!|Get your butt out of that window.

Throw the ball, man!

Mommy,|l never get to play with my friends.

Now they callin' me a sissy.|l ain't no sissy.

- A sissy?!|- Don't pay those fools no mind.

l'm sick and tired of the trumpet.|l hate the trumpet!

All the money l paid for that horn?|You must be losing your mind.

- You better play that trumpet.|- Look...

That child will drive me up the wall.

- Don't say that.|- l can say it if l want to...

You got a lot of time|to be with your friends.

- Like when?|- l don't want you to grow up like them.

- After your lessons.|- l have to play this stupid trumpet.

- This instrument can be your friend.|- Shut up! Shut up!

- l'm not having this.|- We'll go to a game.

- l don't want to go.|- l got a game on, OK?

- Go look at it.|- You spoiled him rotten.

He's not worth a damn. Listen.|Shut up! Don't you talk back to me.

l want you to pick up the horn,|and you're going to play the scales.

Do you hear me?|And you're going to do it right now.

Boy, l think you better do|what your mother says, OK? Now?

Moose ls worklng on a no-hltter.

l still hate it.

Good boy. Damn. l'm missing the game.|lt's for the pennant here.

He's a chucker, man.|He comes off the bench shooting, Bleek.

Never gonna see no pass from this guy.|He's a selfish ballplayer.

You need to get rid of him.

lt's your team. lt's your band.|You're the coach. Fire his ass.

Every night, three-hour solos.|Bleek, what's up?

lt's your band.

Get rid of this guy.|Go out there and play.

Great.

God.

Bleek, just talk to the guy, all right?

Talk to him.

All right!

Left Hand Lacey on the piano.

Left Hand.

The earl himself.|The earl of rhythm.

- Rhythm Jones on the drums.|- Thank you. Thank you.

On the bottom, the bass,|Bottom Hammer.

- Rock bottom, that's my man!|- Bottom Hammer.

On tenor and soprano saxophone,|Shadow Henderson.

- Shadow Henderson.|- Shadow, l love you.

- My name is Bleek Gilliam.|- He's the best, huh?

- He's the best, that guy.|- The best.

Your band! lt's your band!

Thank you for coming.|You didn't have to.

You could have stayed home|and watched Arsenio Hall or something.

No, listen,|l got nothing against the brother.

But er... thank you again for coming.

This concludes our first set.|We'll be back soon.

We got some beautiful waitresses here,|so put them to work.

Give them some business and a fat tip.

Speaking of fat...

Don't get mad, Bleek.|l'll kick your ass.

l know l'm gonna hear it now.|Butterbean.

Whoo!

Nice, boy. Nice set.

You see them girls out in front?|The girl in purple?

When she crossed her legs,|l saw sparks fly.

- What's up, man?|- She got a big baseball booty.

Oh, man, she was fine!

She was looking at me the whole show.

She was looking at me|the whole motherfucking show, man.

Yo, cut the bullshit, hold up.

Shadow, what's up with this ego stuff?|What's up with the outing?

- Grandstanding!|- You're the only one complaining.

- Everybody else is OK.|- Everybody who?

The audience got no problem.

All you doing|is playing for the audience?

- That's what l do.|- That's ego, grandstanding.

- Do l tell you what to play?|- ls your name on the marquee?

- Shadow sounds good, man.|- Who asked you, Left Hand?

- Nobody asked me.|- Well, shut the f*** up!

What the f*** is this?|You shut the f*** up, you midget!

- My name is Giant, all right?|- Blame your motherfucking mother, man.

- On the real side.|- Why you talking about my mother, man?

- Stop talking about my mother.|- On the real side.

Yo, chill.|Everybody chill for one second.

Relax on the solos, OK?|Bring them down a little bit, all right?

- Oould you do that for me?|- Down to an hour.

Maybe an hour, 45 minutes?

You do have an option.|You can always quit.

- What?|- Don't be playing with my balls.

- Yo, hold up, man.|- Here, take your balls.

Well, you right.|You right. l could quit.

- Hey, wait a minute!|- He ain't going nowhere.

- Where you going?|- To the bathroom, right?

- l'm going to the bathroom.|- He's always going.

l like women with big asses.|Why brothers drive Oadillacs.

Oan't get all that ass in a Volkswagen.

The first thing they be saying,|''Kiss my ass''.

- Some ugly women in here, too, tonight.

How you doing?

When l said ugly,|l'm looking at your ass.

l like an ugly woman.|They easy to get along with.

Pretty woman, too...|You know how they do.

''F*** you. l'll do what l want to do.''

Ugly woman easy to get along with.|They don't want no trouble.

You can tell an ugly woman anything,|can't you?

Hey, b*tch, l'm going to the moon.|l'll be back in a couple of days.

''Well, you be careful.''

''l don't want nothing to happen|to you now, cos you know l...

cos l love you.''

''Oh, l love you.''

''Please don't call me a b*tch|in front of the kids.''

All right, whore, l'll be back|in a couple of days. Goddamn.

Hey. Hey, wake up.

- l'm up.|- Wake up. You're not up.

- l'm up. l'm up.|- You're not up.

l'm up.|l do not want to go to school today, OK?

l'm not going.

Get up, get up, get up!

l'm up now.

You'll be late for school.

Your children will have|their little hearts broken.

Yeah, speaking of broken hearts, Bleek,

you know what my mother|used to tell me?

She used to say,|''Don't ever marry a musician,

let alone go out with one.''

She said l'd be inviting grief and pain|and tears and heartbreak to my doorstep.

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