Who Made The Potatoe Salad? Page #2

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This reminds me

of my grandmama's house.

- You making fun of my decorations, boy?

- Oh, no, it's not even like...

It's okay, young blood. It's okay.

But just remember,

the struggle continues.

You want something?

Soda pop? Beer? Doughnut?

- You just go ahead and get comfortable.

- Is this Italian?

Yeah, just...

- It's smooth, you know.

- It's cool. Just glide into it.

So, Ashley, how's work, baby?

It's going really good. I just got a raise.

- Oh, that's wonderful, baby.

- Yeah, that's great, baby.

So, Mike, how's work?

- Kill any niggas lately?

- Jake.

I'm just asking him a couple of questions.

No, I can't say I have.

- I'm curious, Mike.

- Jake.

Baby, let me just talk to the young man.

Why would a black man in America

wanna be a cop?

I mean, you couldn't think

of nothing better to do?

Maybe be a doctor, a lawyer

or maybe even a gangster rapper.

I mean, at least they make more money

than a sleazy-assed pig.

Daddy.

All right. All right. All right.

It's gonna take me a minute

to get used to this pig sh*t.

Anyway, Michael, what are your intentions

for my beautiful daughter right here?

Well,

actually, Ashley and I,

we've been seeing each other

for quite some time.

Oh, what's bubblating, family?

I was with y'all all day, okay?

- Hey, June Bug.

- Hey, June Bug.

Hiya, sis, how're you doing?

Looking all good, like a video girl,

like you've been sprouting up

and everything.

Hey, June Bug.

So, what you home for,

Thanksgrubbing or something?

Yeah.

How Diego treating my b*tch?

You still love me there and everything?

It's fine.

Who this nigga?

My boyfriend, Michael.

How're you doing, June...

Anyway, Mom, my stomach killing me.

You know, I ain't ate in like three days.

That's what jail do to a brother

in the drab house, keeping me starving.

I'm going to the kitchen, no,

you ain't gotta follow me or nothing.

I'll be right back.

Hold on, June Bug.

Don't be sticking your fingers in my pots.

I'm not done yet.

Come here, boy.

Don't let me have to break your fingers off.

So, Mike, you were saying.

Yeah, like I was saying, you know,

Ashley and I, we've been seeing each other

for quite some time,

we actually have a little something

we'd like to share with you guys.

Hey, nigga, we gotta ride.

We gotta go to the stizzore.

Mom ain't got enough flizzour

and the stizzore closes in an izzour,

so you gotta ride with me right now.

Can't be riding around here

by myself, playa.

You know what I'm saying?

They out to get me.

I won't be the only target. Let's go.

- I'm tired.

- Just go.

Go on, Michael. Go on.

June Bug gonna show you around.

Jesus Christ, Ashley.

Where did you find

that sorry motherf***er from?

It's crazy out here, man.

Right there. That's where we making

our kids fight the sh*t.

You got kids?

Hell, no, I look like making my kids fight?

Oh, that's where the big homie got shot.

Shot 17 times in the face.

Took them all, too, like a champ.

- They call him Bullet Head.

- Yeah, with the bullets, that makes sense.

Oh, snap.

That's the old rock house, right there.

I used to get my serve on

in that motherf***er, pushing big weight.

- You, right there?

- Yeah.

- Big weight, huh?

- Yeah.

- You did?

- Me, man. Killing.

- Okay. Big weight.

- Weight.

So, what do you do back at the crib?

I just cool out, chill, you know,

kick it on the down low.

You feel me?

- You feel me?

- Yeah, I been doing that same sh*t.

Like not really doing nothing,

laying around,

sometimes seeing how long the f***

I can lay around without doing sh*t.

- You know? I'm on that.

- You know what I mean?

Hey, man, light this sh*t and roll it

and smoke this sh*t.

No. No. I'm straight, man. I'm straight.

You don't smoke, nigga?

What kind of fool, you don't smoke?

I don't trust no nigga that don't smoke.

What, you a cop or something?

Hell, no. No, I'm good.

You're good?

You ain't good till you hit this.

- What do you coughing for?

- I got asthma.

- What kind of fool don't smoke?

- You know, I... Me.

- Me.

- I don't trust you, man.

Who this fool right here?

Now you stay leaned up,

in case the bullets scatter over there.

- What's going on? What's going on?

- Fool thinks he can just roll up on me?

- No, I'm planning to put in work.

- Relax, man.

Whoa! Whoa!

- What kind of work? What kind of work?

- Work, nigga, like punch the clock. Work.

June Bug, what's up,

pretty-eyed motherf***er?

It's T-Bone, nigga.

Sh*t, man. You better make it known

when you be walking up.

You almost got your cap peeled

completely backwards.

Whatever, nigga, we'd have been some

shooting motherfuckers around here.

- I'll be the shooting motherf***er here.

- No, we be some shooting motherfuckers

around here, nigga.

You know what I'm saying?

Okay, I'd have been the shooting

motherf***er first, though.

Whatever, man. You still coming

to the house later or what?

- Where y'all gonna be at?

- Be at my mom and them house.

Man, you know I love

your mama cooking, man.

She making that chitlin dip.

Hell, yeah,

you know I'm gonna be down there.

- Holler at me!

- June.

Hey, your mama still got them

.45s for sale?

- She ain't got no more.

- Damn.

- Put the gun down. Put the gun down!

- I'm putting it up, man. Be quiet.

Don't act so motherfucking scared

next time either.

- Hey.

- There they are.

Hey, Michael.

Did you guys have a good time?

- You could say that.

- Okay.

What happened to June Bug?

- June Bug is at T-Bone's.

- Not T-Bone.

- Well, you know what that mean.

- Degenerate.

Ashley, come help me

with the groceries, baby.

Thanks for bringing

in the groceries, Michael.

- T-Bone?

- Sorry.

- Yeah.

- Yeah.

Hey, Michael, come go with me.

I wanna show you something in the den.

Sure.

Oh, Jesus Christ. I have the hardest

goddamn time getting off this couch.

My wife put all this plastic. Oh, Jesus.

Sh*t. Goddamn hot mix.

Is this you and Huey?

Yeah, that's me and Huey

marching on City Hall.

That picture in the corner,

that's me and Eldridge.

- At a march?

- No. No.

In the Bahamas on a vacation.

Here you go. Drink up, young blood.

That's mother's milk, right there.

Oh, no. That's a man's drink, right there.

Look, young blood,

I brought you down here

'cause I wanna rap with you for a taste.

I dedicated 30 years of my life

to the Movement.

Fighting oppression

at the hands of a cold-blooded,

ruthless oppressor. You understand?

Back in the day,

I was a high-ranking soldier in the Party.

You understand?

And I didn't raise my daughter

to be with the very motherf***er

that I used to fight with on the streets.

Who murdered and killed

a lot of my comrades in the line of duty.

But I want you to know,

that I will kill you

before I let you be with my daughter.

You understand?

Hey, guys, come and eat.

Come on, let's eat.

I think we're having pork chops. Come on.

I know you like pork chops.

- Did you like it, honey?

- Oh, yeah.

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