Florida Girls

It's here.

It's finally here!

Wake up, bitch.

It's Chunky Sunday!

Get up! It's Chunky Sunday, bitches!

Yeah!

Ha! Y'all ready to go fuck up some ribs and get our twerk on?

Dude, I'm so stoked for this barbecue.

I'm-a smoke all the flavored blunts.

Peach, grape, white grape, blue.

- Why are you so dressed up? - Do you have court?

No, you can't wear that to Chunky Sunday.

I can barely see your ass. You look ridiculous.

Oh, I'm not going with y'all.

Wait, what?

Harold invited me to a fancy Tampa business owner's luncheon

at the airport Marriott.

Tampa fucking Bay. Airport fucking Marriott.

He even bought me this new dress.

You look like a really expensive prostitute.

No, no!

Don't compliment her.

She's a traitor.

She's ruining the most important day of the month

for some chump who doesn't take her seriously.

Has he even called you his girlfriend yet?

Oh, of course. Yeah, absolutely.

Mm, right. So, you're ditching us for an 80-year-old

who doesn't claim you. Awesome.

No, I'm ditching y'all for a lifetime of wealth and leisure.

See, I think Harold's bringing me around

all his bougie business friends as a test.

And I'm-a ace that shit.

Remember when we waitressed at The Pearl?

Ugh, God, I hated that place.

Everyone was so mean and stuck-up.

Exactly. Everyone was so unhappy all the time

and asking to see the manager.

So, I'm thinking, all I have to do

is act like I'm too good for everything,

and all Harold's friends will think I'm super classy.

"Excuse me, miss, I asked for my dressing on the side.

"Would you please remake my field greens?" Bam!

And to top it all off:

Ba-bam!

- A new Coach bag. - Tight.

Wait, but why are there Gs all over it?

A'ight fine, it's a Goach bag.

Come on, Jay. We can't go to Chunky Sunday without you.

- What? Why not? - Uh, because it's a black barbecue,

and you're our only black friend.

But... What? I'm black, too.

You're barely black, Shelby.

I'm half-black, and we'll be fine.

I'll just, um... you know, I'll play up my black half.

There's got to be something I can wear

that'll make me look more black.

Please don't leave us with her.

Jay, come on. You know I love black people parties.

They're so much more fun and loose than white people parties.

So just go. You'll be fine.

You don't need me.

Yes, we do.

You don't get it. You couldn't.

Look at me.

I'm a white woman who lives in a mobile home.

I mean, black people see me, and-and they just assume

I'm another racist Florida redneck.

But when I'm with you,

suddenly, I'm a cool white woman of the people.

I'm white, and I live in a mobile home,

and no one thinks I'm a redneck.

Yes, they do. You're just too brain-dead to notice.

Kaitlin, I'm so sorry that you are a white woman.

I'm sure that must be a very hard life.

But you don't need me. Y'all will fit in fine.

Jay, can I borrow this?

Or is it... is it too much?

It's too much.

Okay.

Y'all are acting so problematic today.

Randi?

Hello? Open up!

Why do we need my mom to come with us?

Because you don't look black, Shelby.

You look like you just got back from the frickin' Bahamas.

I think the braids are dope.

Bang on the door one more time, and you're gonna lose that hand.

We need you to come with us right now. It's an emergency.

- Oh, God, what happened? - No, Mom, it's fine.

Kaitlin just doesn't think I look black enough...

Shut up, Shelby.

Jayla ditched us, so we need a black person

to come to Chunky Sunday with us.

Go get ready, and hurry up. I don't want to miss the ribs.

What are you talking about?

You don't need a black person. Just go.

- You'll be fine. - No, we won't.

We're gonna look like a couple of rednecks

hanging out with Rachel Dolezal.

We need a real black person.

Come on, Randi. Please?

I've never missed a Chunky Sunday ever.

Not even when my dad died.

So, you're desperate, huh?

Well, I mean, I would love to help you girls out,

but I was just about to dig that stump up.

Yeah, I mean, you know, it's rotted,

and spiders have nested in it,

and the spiders are getting in the house.

I mean, so you can see the predicament I'm in.

Just got an idea.

If you girls dig the stump up for me,

then I can go to the barbecue, and you got your black person.

No. We're not doing that. No. Forget it.

Let's go.

Get in the car. Now!

Yes! I love Chunky Sunday so much.

I know. And I feel like I'm really fitting in.

Mm, smell them peach blunts. I'm gonna find me a peach blunt.

Ooh, good call, good call. Okay, then we'll hit the ribs,

and then get on that dance floor.

Randi, I hope you like twerking, 'cause...

- Dude. - Hey, lady, how you doing?

What are you doing?

- You got to stick by us. - No, no, no, no, no.

That ain't part of the deal. You said come with y'all.

All right. Okay.

I've always wanted to learn Spades. Deal me in, ladies.

Sorry, honey, game's full.

All right, Wanda, your bid.

Let's see...

You guys, you guys.

Did you see that? They won't let me play

'cause they think I'm just some racist redneck.

Or maybe it's because Spades is a four-person game

- and you're a fifth person. - Don't be an idiot, Erica.

Take a look around. Everyone's staring at us.

- What? No, they're not. - Dude, relax.

You're with me.

Oh, no, no. God.

I wonder if they have any light beer.

- Oh, my God. - Do y'all got any light beer?

Stop. Stop it.

Look, I know they want to modify the menu,

but to get rid of the Neighborhood Nachos?

That's ridiculous.

Good seeing you ladies.

Hey, there he is. Arnie.

Hope it's not crummy.

Arnie owns three Krispy Kremes.

Nice to meet you. This is my girlfriend Lisa.

- Hi. - Hi.

And this is, uh, my friend Jayla.

Oh.

Oh, my goodness.

These sliders are overcooked.

Did y'all notice that?

I was just thinking that.

Oh, my bun's a little burnt, too.

I hate this burger.

- Excuse me, miss? - Yes, ma'am?

These sliders are unacceptable.

Would you please bring us a fresh tray?

Sorry, we were just told we're 86'd on the sliders.

Oh, well in that case, can I speak to your manager?

Todd.

I mean, they're burnt.

Jaylandra?

Juicy J!

Yo, it's me, Lil' Hazy.

Man, I ain't seen you since we were spitting

in people's drinks at Mugs 'N Jugs.

Look at you all dressed up.

No more tube tops and coochie cutters for you, huh, girl?

You know, I was just thinking about that time we got baked

at Crystal Meth's grandma's crib,

and that girl with the teeth fuck Shiny D's boyfriend.

So nasty.

Mm.

You know who would love this food?

Our good friend, Jaylandra!

She's probably my best friend.

We watched Black Panther together.

It's my favorite movie. All right.

Let's hurry up and eat. We got to get back to your mom.

I'm getting a lot of weird looks.

Yeah, probably 'cause you're yelling really loud

while everyone's trying to eat.

Erica's right. Dude, you're the only one being weird.

We're totally fine.

I think everyone can finally tell I'm half-black.

Oh, my God. Did you see that?

I don't even know her, and she totally acknowledged me.

I'm gonna go dance.

Oh, God, no.

She dances whiter than all of us.

Shelby! Stop snapping your fingers.

At least she's having fun. Let's go dance.

All right, but we have to spread out.