Who Made The Potatoe Salad? Page #7

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Get this p*ssy out of my face.

You better give thanks that I don't whoop

off on your old, ancient, last-supper ass.

- Baby.

- Any time, junior.

- Okay.

- Any time!

Grandpa. Damn. Dinner's ready, y'all.

Y'all think y'all can stop fighting

long enough so we can eat?

I'll let him slide that long.

Come on, go, go, go.

I'm going to take the batteries out of

your pacemaker and hide your wheelchair.

Take this battery, b*tch.

Scott Stevens

open in the wide out...

Oh, and it's a completed pass to Stevens!

Right on his fingertips.

Good game.

Approaching the red zone.

And it looks like it's going to be

a real ballgame today, folks.

Let's bless the table.

All right.

Y'all weren't gonna say no grace

without me, right?

June Bug, sit your crazy ass down.

Let's bless our table. Bow our heads.

Dear heavenly Father, thank you

for yet another Thanksgiving together.

Thank you for my entire family,

as well as our new extended

family member, Michael.

We thank you for this food,

and we pray that the hands

that prepared it are blessed.

- Amen.

- Amen.

- Amen, daughter.

- Amen.

Let's grub, let's grub!

Get back into hearing amen

and all that stuff.

And whatever come after "A" and "men..."

June Bug, get your fingers out the turkey.

In front of people, don't do it?

- What's wrong with you?

- Everything.

These candy yams look delicious.

Yes. My mama made them.

They are so good.

Thank you, baby.

Aren't you gonna try

some of my honey-roasted ham?

- I'm afraid I don't eat pork, ma'am.

- Don't eat pork?

A black man that don't eat pork

is a traitor to his race.

Don't be rude, boy.

Go on and eat some of the ham.

The ham is good.

Got cloves in it.

Yeah, just try a little taste.

Yeah, eat up.

Go on,

just take a tiny little piece.

All right, just for you. Just a little piece.

Just a little piece. There you go.

Baby, that ain't enough

to even get a good taste.

Come on and try this ham. Come on.

- Yes, shove it in his mouth.

- Yeah.

- Chew, nigga.

- All right.

Get used to that.

Chew.

Don't be bullshitting with it.

It's good. It's real good.

Good. Anybody else want some ham?

- No.

- No, thank you, Mom.

No. I can't do it now.

- No.

- No, thank you.

- Love you, Grandma.

- Give that to the guest.

- Lil' Ray, that's enough.

- But that's all I want.

You better eat all of them vegetables up

or your stomach be hurting

and you'll be backed up.

Potatoe salad.

Now that's my favorite right here.

Who made the potatoe salad?

This motherf***er...

- Oh, sh*t.

- Oh.

Why, huh? Why, nigga?

You don't walk into a fast-food restaurant

and ask who's on fries, do you?

Do you waddle up into Roscoe's and ask

who's filling the motherfucking waffles?

Huh? No, no, no, you don't.

So why does it matter

who made the damn potatoe salad?

- It don't really matter.

- Exactly my point.

Now, scoop some up on your

punk-ass plate and shut the f*** up.

Now!

- Scooping. Scooping.

- Scoop it, nigga.

- Scoop, nigga.

- Eat it all, look at him.

- Scoop right here.

- There you go.

- He didn't mean it, Mookie.

- Another scoop. That's two scoops.

You know he didn't mean it.

There's nothing wrong

with your potatoe salad.

Yeah.

Your potatoe salad is dry.

- Yeah, it like the desert.

- That's right.

It is not dry.

I just didn't have enough mayonnaise

last year.

That's right.

What about the year before last?

All right. All right, dear.

I mean, what about that nasty ham

that Grandma makes?

What?

- I thought it was good.

- Shut up.

- Shut your ass up.

- Shut up.

You about to get your ass whipped, boy.

Since we're speaking of nasty,

what about this nasty-ass raw turkey

we be eating every year?

- You better watch your damn mouth.

- That's turkey?

You know what, son of a b*tch?

I'm gonna tell you one goddamn thing.

I didn't want you

at this goddamn Thanksgiving dinner.

Yeah, this turkey is good.

This is a good goddamn turkey.

It ain't nothing wrong with this turkey.

The turkey is just rare.

Rare, my ass. The turkey is raw.

- It's raw every goddamn year.

- F*** you.

Last year, you cooked up

the damn plastic bag

with the giblets still inside

the goddamn turkey.

And the plastic bag was raw.

You say another f***ing word, I'll carve

that hat right off your goddamn head.

- The sh*t is raw and bad.

- You raw, motherf***er.

Your ass is raw.

That's why I have to drink

this messed-up punch,

to wash the sh*t down.

You said you liked my punch, Papa.

They gonna be cracking in here

the way I like it.

- No, I ain't taking no ass-whooping.

- What the f*** you gonna do?

Take the goddamn carver

and just carve his black ass up.

Ray Ray, rip his ass.

That ain't your son, no way. That ain't...

Get him, Grandpa!

Let him have it, Grandpa!

Bring your bags.

I'm getting out of this ragged

motherf***er as soon as I can.

Never forgiving that fool.

I don't need it... Come on, get the hell out.

I don't give a goddamn.

If we wanted to be treated like this,

we could have gone to the local shelter,

and had dinner with the homeless

and the underprivileged.

Well, you know what, you son of a b*tch?

Next time you can do that sh*t.

Stop it, Jake.

I don't like your goddamn father,

he don't like me.

That ain't the point. These are my parents.

Mama, Daddy, please stay. I'm sorry.

What's she sorry about?

She is sorry

because she allowed her family

to be so rude to her mother and her father.

Who's her mother

and father? Do we know them?

- Jesus Christ, she's crazy...

- Mama.

Stop it.

Come on, baby,

let's get the hell on out of here.

That'll be a good goddamn idea.

- Come on, Daddy.

- We'll see you again.

All right.

We'll have you back for Christmas.

Where we gonna have

Thanksgiving dinner?

- Mama.

- Come on, Mama.

- Come back Christmas, Mama.

- Okay.

- Take your ragged-ass hat with you.

- Oh, stop!

- Take that sh*t...

- Jake.

I'm tired of it.

It took me three damn days

to make that damn potatoe salad.

You would think for once I wouldn't have

to hear, "Who made the potatoe salad?"

- It was good. It was good.

- I know.

Y'all, I'm sorry I acted the way I did,

but your albino-possessed-ass daddy

- can French kiss my ass.

- I'm with you. I'm with you.

Hey, Ray Ray, you be good.

Holler back at me now.

Well, there goes Thanksgiving.

I told you when I seen that little boy,

the little motherf***er

was going to be trouble.

It wasn't his fault, Daddy.

Yeah, whatever.

God!

There's plenty of food left

if y'all still hungry.

Thanks, Mom.

June...

You have the right to remain

motherfucking silent.

Anything the f*** you say,

can and will be used against your ass

in the streets I'm motherfucking with.

- This is all my fault.

- No, it's not.

Believe it or not,

this kind of thing happens all the time.

Thanks, but that really doesn't

make me feel much better.

Well, we're leaving tomorrow.

Everything will be fine when we get home.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

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