Black Monday

You want to fuck with me?

I would love to fuck with you.

Previously on "Black Monday"...

Who wants to come titty fuck Keith?

- Hey... - Oh, ugh.

You think he's trying...

the Georgina play?

So once he marries that Georgina chick

and we get those shares, we also get cracker rich.

Give me the piece of the Jammer Group that I deserve.

You want something from Mo?

You're gonna have to fucking take it.

Do you even want to get married?

I'm really confused right now.

Like I've been pressed into this shape.

I've been playing you, kid.

Fuck you. I'm gonna tell Tiff everything.

I want in.

My hubby likes chubby.

You're fired.

Is what we're about to tell you.

- Right, Dawn? - Sorry, Momo.

The market's taking a huge shit right now.

- You shorted the market. - Well, that was Dawn's idea.

Keith, you're the only one that never fucked me over.

I'm sorry.

This was all a Jammer Group plot to screw us.

You thinking what I'm thinking?

One of us should take a steamy shit in Mo's car?

Now who's fucking around?

I'm here for my piece of the Georgina play.

Let's celebrate, partner.

Dawn, how could you do this?

If I were a man, they'd just call it business.

I'm sorry, Mo, but it's my time.

_

Hey, quit daydreaming. The bosses want to see you.

Actually, I was day wet dreaming.

I'm busy, so can we just pretend that I did

a series of nonthreatening, girlish giggles?

- Uh-huh. - Mo, oh, Mo.

What it is, my man?

What can I do for you bosses?

Buy 20,000 June Coffee Calls.

We're going long like John Silver's

premium seafood eatery.

All due respect,

I'm not sure that's the smart play right now.

All due respect, I got a room full of them

that would fundamentally disagree with you.

I'm just saying that a lot of these dudes were in 'Nam.

They're saying there's a lot of coffee farms

that are popping up all over the Lam Dongs, so...

That explains the uptick in the bores.

I mean, the French are always a step ahead

in Asian commodities.

- We should go short. - We should go short.

Hmm. I do trust Dawn with coffee.

- Yeah. - Nobody makes a better cup.

Her nickname is Hot Coffee.

Nailed it. Hot Coffee, that's who she is.

No, in fact, go make me a hot coffee, okay?

With two Sweet'N Lows and zero trading advice ever.

Mr. Leighman, she's right, though.

- I mean... - Fuck, Mo.

You're a brother, but you're not a Leighman brother, okay?

So just place the order, or I will hire somebody who will.

Yeah, I understand.

Hey, Dawn. You okay?

Yeah, no. Thank you.

Oh. Fuck them, right?

It's not our money.

Hey, let me ask you something. You think they're...

I don't know. Maybe.

You know, the quiet one?

He makes me tie his bowtie while he sucks his thumb.

- While he what? - I know.

He's got some weird mammy fetish.

I have an MBA.

Which does not stand for "majestic black ass",

despite what the loud one says.

I don't know. Let me see.

It's not bad.

Hey, well, let me tell you something.

I'm out of here.

- I'm gonna start my own shop. - Really?

Got a backer. He's gonna stake me.

Wow.

Now, if there was just some way I could get my hands

on that Leighman Brothers' rolodex.

You mean if you could get my hands on their Rolodex?

Well, you do have prettier hands.

And feet.

Come on. What do you say, D?

Hey, hey. Hot coffee.

Want some cream?

Whoo.

This is for my homies in the mother ghetto.

Maurice "Mo" Monroe, AKA "Roland Madison",

AKA "The Black, Black Monday Murderer",

AKA the "Downtown Defenestrator",

is wanted not only for

the global financial terrorist attack known as "Black Monday"

but for a shocking double homicide.

Rod Jaminski...

Plummeted to his death,

ironically landing on Monroe's own stretch Lamborghini,

and killing one of the Leighman Brothers in the process.

I don't know what happened.

- Mo just went crazy. - _

Was it the embarrassment that his protégé,

Blair Pfaff, had outsmarted him,

making a fortune off him in the process?

Face it... there's a new Blairiff in town.

Or maybe it was the betrayal of his best friend,

Keith Shankar.

Or maybe it was a broken heart after his fling

with office tart Dawn Darcy.

I'm just an innocent secretary delivering Danish.

Whatever it was on that chilly October afternoon

Mo Monroe just snapped.

Somebody save me.

Thank God for that Blair guy.

He's a real hero.

He tried to save Jammer too, but it was too late.

He was Countach meat.

Lamborghini Countach meat indeed.

_

We need your help to find this thug.

But make no mistake. This man is dangerous.

If you see him, do not attempt to apprehend him.

But call our hotline, 1-800-1-WANTED.

Operators are stand...

What?

Y'all expected me to be mad

because they portrayed me as some dumbass secretary

despite the fact that "Black Monday" was my fucking idea?

Not the name, of course. Shit's racist.

I mean, if they tried to play a man like that...

Oh, shit, if they tried to play Mo like that,

he'd blow a gasket and a rail.

Sweep everything off this table, fire all of y'all,

and then he'd call that hotline himself

just to confess so his dumb ass would get all the credit.

- But I'm not Mo. - That's right.

- And I'm not a man. - Yep.

I am a professional...

bitch.

Ladies, the world is finally changing.

Look at this place.

We've shattered the glass ceiling.

Who cares if it takes a minute for the men to recognize us?

The arc of the moral universe is long.

But it bends toward justice.

- Say it. - Martin Luther Queen.

Did they put Keith in khakis just so the piss would read?

I don't know. Not now, Karen.

'Cause the last time I checked, we're not in the ego business.

We're in the getting paid business.

That's right!

And the getting laid business.

And business is sex.

- Word. - Nice, dude.

Getting mad, getting even...

You were... you were talking.

That shit, it's a waste of time.

And the point is, our time is now.

- Yeah. - And I have the perfect plan

to take advantage.

Amerisavings & Loan.

This is it, y'all. This is my next big idea.

We are about to become an institution by buying one.

So what?

"America's Most Unsolved Crimes"

thinks that Blair is the mastermind instead of me.

He's my partner.

I'm not gonna fuck up our shit over that.

Or this.

- Or this. - That's right.

Or this wack,

dumb shit right here.

- That ain't right. - What is "Jet"?

Fuck these bitch-ass, niche-ass periodicals.

Okay. But what Dawn's not telling y'all,

'cause she too humble, is that she is about to

get her props.

"The Wall Street Journal". That's right.

The old gray lady's husband, the old white man,

is running a huge profile on our girl tonight.

Wow, thank you, but the only pats on the ass

I need are from y'all.

And it's a good thing I got all this ass to spank.

Whoo.

'Cause we are about to get rich as fuck

- buying this bank. - Yeah!

So stop everything

and start acquiring every open share of Amerisavings & Loan.

Shit. It's impossible, Boss.

Leighman brothers own a huge chunk.

- Did you say impossible? - Yeah.