Black Dynamite

Previously on Black Dynamite...

Black Dynamite, I'm Donald, your accountant, and as your accountant,

I have an extremely urgent accounting matter I must discuss with ...

I don't care if you're Merv Griffin, creator and host of "The Merv Griffin Show."

You need to make an appointment, like everybody else, Jack.

Damn it!

Hyah!

Ohh! Suey!

- Black Dynamite? Huh?

You can't ignore this any longer.

I tried to make an appointment like you said, but ...

My secretary bitch is out with the shit now, don't be interrupting my kung fu!

Suey!

Man, can't this wait? - No, it can't, Black Dynamite.

- They are shooting. Fine. Get in.

What I've been trying to tell you is, you haven't filed income

taxes for 8 years. You owe the I.R.S. $60,000 and now they're going to

- fuckin' kill you! Is that what this shit is all about?

These motherfuckers can't be bargained with!

They can't be reasoned with. They don't feel pity or remorse or fear.

And they absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead

or broke or in jail... or both! Incoming!

Donald, my accountant! - Black Dynamite, I'm not gonna

make it. Please, promise me...

Anything, man! Anything in the world.

...you'll make sure this form is postmarked by midnight on the 15th, or you... may...

be subject to... penalties. Ahh. I'm dead.

I'm sorry, Donald the accountant. I should have listened to you sooner.

Looks like you're gonna need a new accountant, Black Dynamite.

I've got until the 15th, you money-hungry

bureaucratic sons of bitches! Scram, I say! Scram!

This week...

1x03 - Taxes and Death or Get Him to the Sunset Strip

All: Surprise! Right before your eyes.

Honey Bee: Black Dynamite, we all heard

about your tax troubles with the I.R.S., so all the whores and the orphans in

this here Whorephanage got together to raise you some scratch.

These girls have already sucked every dick in a 10-mile radius.

Bullhorn: And me and Cream Corn planned this badass party last night to raise funds...

- and awareness for broke Black Dynamite! - Cream Corn: We sold a few

- thousand of these ... 2 for $5. - Honey Bee: Even these little nappy-headed orphans pitched in.

All right,

shut the fuck up when grown folks is strugglin'. I'd take this money if I didn't

need it, but now that do need it, there ain't no way I'm gonna take it.

Now get back out there on that block and get that money I don't need.

Bullhorn: Now I'm just thinkin' out loud, so this may

sound berserk, but maybe B.D. can make some

ends meet by puttin' in some mercenary work.

- Honey Bee: Now, that's a great idea, Bullhorn. - Cream Corn: That is a good...

I think it's a terrible idea.

- Cream Corn: Yeah, is kind of terrible. The problem with taking

somebody's money to do a job is that they always expect something in return.

Cream Corn: Well, I guess we'll just have to come up with another plan, then.

Not necessarily, because sometimes, a terrible idea is the best idea you got.

And if there's one thing I've learned, you always go with the best idea you got.

Thank you for coming, Black Dynamite.

I'm a motion-picture producer. That means that I produce motion pictures.

- What do you know about Richard Pryor? You mean the comedy man?

- Yes, the comedian. You say "tomato,"

- Black Dynamite says "toe-mah-toe." - We've already had massive

success filming Richard Pryor live in concert, and we got Richard Pryor here and now

without a hiccup. But for some reason, no one has been able to get Richard Pryor

live on the Sunset Strip, and that's where you come in, Black Dynamite.

- Take this. What is this?

- His inspiration. - Oh fuck,

why y'all didn't tell me the plane landed?

I was on the toilet taking a shit you know when you're sitting on

a plane, taking a shit and your ass get sucked down the toilet?

I didn't think my ass was ever gonna come back, Jack. I said, "take the shit but

- leave me shit". - Ha ha! Brilliant, Richie baby!

- But save it for the show. - What's happenin', Jack? My main man.

- Baddest fucker I ever met. Cocaine. - What's the matter,

Black Dynamite? You've never seen a black entertainer get high?

No. It's just that nobody's ever left me hangin' before.

Oh fuck, is that all the cocaine we got? It's gonna be a long night,

Jack. I snothrough mothafucker and this little briefcase ain't doin' shit.

I fuck potential mothers, soon-to-be mothers, already mothers.

I'm a mothafucker. I never got no fuck when I was your age.

But livin' up in here? Y'all should be gettin' all of it.

Hoe come in the house, I'm 7 years old. I'm punchin' the out the

'cause my was too small.

Uppercuttin' the I'm knockin' out daily. Say, baby, you remind me

- of my mama. - Honey Bee: Aw. Because I'm kind and nurturing?

No, bitch! 'Cause you got big titties and you sells good shit.

Bullhorn: Man, Richard Pryor, you are on fire!

And you got enough meat on your nose to make a ham sandwich, boy!

Rhyming all the damn time. I can't tell if it's a trick, a tick, a talent, or tourrette's.

Cream Corn: You're the funniest man alive or dead.

Well, thank you, miss.

Whores and orphans under one roof. Whose idea was this, anyway?

Mine. - Man, did you actually think about this shit before you

put the children and the whores within fuckin' distance of each other?

Hey, little kids. I'm Black Dynamite. I know you all ain't got no parents,

so how 'bout I replace them with a lifetime supply of .

That is not what I silently said to myself inside my head!

Suey!

Bullhorn: You may not find him funny, but you about to

- fuck all your money. Look here, Mr. Comedy man.

Now, I don't get you or your comedy jokes or comedy in general, but what I am

gonna get is you to the Sunset Strip so I can pay my damn taxes. Can you dig it?

Honey Bee: As a matter of fact, here goes a package from

- the I.R.S. right now. I.R.S.?! No!

Looks like I need to get the fuck up out of here. Let's go get something to eat

- before Black Dynamite kills us with his back taxes. - It's funny 'cause it's true.

Man, I tell you ... the I.R.S. ain't no joke, Jack.

Those mothafuckers will run right up in your ass to get they money.

You ever notice when you look at your check, it says

"F.E.C.A., F.I.C.A. fuck you out your money." and my accountant gonna tell me,

"good news, Richard. You're in the black." and I'm like, "sucker, you say

I got $2 million. Fuck! I want to see it ... in cash!

- Drive it to me in the brinks truck right now!" You mean to tell me

Hollywood really pays you all that money for standing around and talkin' shit?

That's right. But havin' people laugh at you all the time ain't all it's

cracked up to be. Sometimes, I just want my hugged.

Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Pryor?

Not unless you got some milk in them, titties. Big as them titties is,

shouldn't be a starving kid nowhere in Africa. Nah, baby.

I stopped drinking two minutes ago.

That is some bullshit.

Don't nobody believe you, Richard Pryor.

I know you don't believe me, mothafucker 'cause you mothafuckers

fuckin' say... "I'm drunk, and I'm the ugliest mothafucker up in here. I'm so ugly,

the tears roll down the back of my neck. When I cry, they don't want to be on my face."

Okay, that's enough drinkin' and jivin', you drunk jive turkeys!

Oh, what you gonna do to me? Black Dynamite, I'm gonna kick

your fuckin' nuts and ass so the mothafuckin' bone. Do you hear me?

Man, did you see that? Them suckas got messed up, Jack,

fuckin' around with me and my boy. No shit!

Man, you got to show me how to do some of that stuff, Black Dynamite!

We could be like Blackman and Robin.

Richard Pryor, give me that gun before you hurt somebody.

Mothafucker.

We bad. We bad. That's right mothafucka ...

We bad. This ain't Gene Wilder shit.

This is Black Dynamite, and we will whup your ass, Jack.

Do you know what we're in for? Puttin' a foot in a mothafucker's ass

and makin' it come out his mouth! You ever seen that before?

You think Richard Pryor's foot in your ass is a joke, boy?!

You think I'm funny?! Well, I'm not!

I'm tired of pouring my heart out to shit and all you do

is laugh. Stop laughing at me. I'm serious.

Shut the fuck up when groan men's is cryin'.

Richard Pryor? This better not be one of your

comedy jokes, because Black Dynamite don't ever hold no grown man in his arms like a

baby when he's cryin' and weepin'... Especially a comedy man.

Man, fuck the comedy man and his mama! I don't want to make these

mothafuckers laugh. I got some real shit to say, man.

I know how to cut through the bullshit, but don't nobody care when I say it.

- It's always the same. - Did you hear what he said?

He said, "it's always the same." He said, "it's always the same"!

See what I mean? When you talk, people listen. They take your ass serious.

You ain't really got shit to say, but they listen, and that's what I want.

I want somebody to listen so I can teach them somethin'.

Pryor, Richard! Dynamite, Black!

You made bail!

We bad. We bad. That's right, mothafucker, we bad.

I just peed on myself!

What's this? - 'Bout 200 kilos' worth of money.

I thought all that brinks truck talk was just one of your little funnies,

- Richard Pryor. - Man, I told your ass ... I don't joke.

How 'bout I pay your tax bill, you look the other way, and we both get to walk away with a

- cool little story to tell? I can't do that, Richard Pryor.

Black Dynamite don't ever break his words. Black Dynamite's words and

Black Dynamite's balls is all Black Dynamite has in this life. That, plus my bitches, my car,

an exquisite wardrobe, and a bunch of more, other shit...but my point is, Black Dynamite

said he would get Richard Pryor live on the Sunset Strip, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do.

A'ight, man. I can dig it. Keep your word and your balls.