Atlanta (2016–…): Season 1, Episode 9 - Juneteenth - full transcript

(phone buzzing)

Oh...

(coughing)

Shit.

(sighs)

Are you coming back tonight?

Um...

No...

Thanks.

(piano music)

♪ ♪

(dog barking in distance)

(door opening)

Are you high?

Not really.

Jesus.

You have to put it up. My hair.

Leave it.

This is really important, okay?

- I got it.
- I'm being serious.

I got it.

Monique is really good for me.

She knows people, and
they're all gonna be there.

I got it.

It's also good for Lottie.

Why else do you
think I'd be here?

(jazzy music)

♪ ♪

(engine turns over)

(gasps) Oh, happy Juneteenth!

Oh, Vanessa. You look amazing.

Oh, thank you so
much for having us.

And hello. I'm Monique.

You must be Mr. Hubby?

This is Earnest.

Yeah. Me. Mr. Hubby.

Oh, well, come
inside, come inside.

-♪ I got a rope ♪ all: ♪ Huh! ♪

♪ Into thy kingdom ♪

all: ♪ Huh! ♪
- ♪ Ain't that good news ♪

Are they up for auction
after the party, or...

(laughter)

Uh-uh-uh.

So, to the left,
we have the bar.

To the right, we
have the bathroom.

Oh, we have bathrooms
upstairs, downstairs...

Many, many bathrooms.

And where is Craig?

Happy Freedom Day!

(chuckles)

Mm, mm, mm.

Welcome.

Craig, Monique's husband.

You're familiar.

Cherokee?

Uh, no. Just black.

(laughter)

No, Cherokee Town
and Country Club.

You're a member, right?

Uh, no, no, no.

- You sure?
- Yes.

You must be confusing me
with some other black guy.

- ♪ Ain't that good news ♪
- Ah!

You don't think I'm capable

of telling
African-Americans apart?

N... no.

(laughing) Just
messing with you, man.

Welcome.

God, it is so great
to meet both of you.

♪ I got a savior ♪

So, do you want
to get me a drink?

Anything? Like a
vodka cranberry?

Anything for you.

(jazz music)

- Hey, could I get a, uh...
- Sir.

I'll be right with you soon
as you take your place

in the queue... the line?

I know what a queue is.

♪ ♪

Thank you.

How can I help you, sir?

Yeah, I'd like, uh,
a vodka cranberry.

I'm sorry, sir, we aren't
equipped to make that drink.

- A screwdriver, then.
- Sir.

We have a fixed cocktail
menu for the evening.

Please make a selection.

♪ ♪

"Juneteenth Juice.
Frozen Freedom Margarita.

Emancipation Eggnog." It's June.

Nigga, do I got to
explain alliteration? Hmm?

I'll have the Plantation
Master Poison.

(rattling)

- So sorry about Earnest.
- Princeton...

He just thinks he's so funny...

Oh, don't be, girl.

I like him.

Ramon! Mm!

Smile.

This is a celebration.
Not an orphanage.

Hmm?

♪ ♪

(sighs)

I'm glad you came. Mm-hmm.

I know we haven't known
each other for a long time,

but I mean it when I say...

you remind me of me.

And we're gonna make sure
you get everything you want.

Still want to be a teacher?

The principal of Pace
University is here.

Easy... want to be a
designer, an event planner,

- a real housewife?
- Girl, quit playing...

Shh!

You can have
anything that you want.

You are a smart, beautiful,

and determined lady like me.

And your fancy Ivy
League husband is here,

so there's no problem there.

Thanks, Mo.

- Glad you came.
- (chuckles)

♪ ♪

(traditional choral music)

♪ ♪

(whispering) What the fuck?

Nobody can give you freedom.

Nobody can give you
equality, or justice, or anything.

If you're a man, you take it.

Malcolm X quote that
inspired that painting.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...

Stop, stop. You're fine.

You... you want a real drink?

- Sure.
- All right.

♪ ♪

That's a... interesting
interpretation of that quote.

♪ ♪

It's the only interpretation.

It accurately depicts the plight
of the contemporary black man.

That is why I painted it.

Wow.

So, Earn.

What kind of business you in?

Music management.

- Yes.
- Yes?

No, it's just... it's nice.

A brother on the
business side of music.

- What do you mean?
- Mm.

Please.

Well, music is
such an integral part

of the African-American culture.

It's expression. And it's
been stripped from you.

Black music artists are products

for white American
consumption and appropriation.

Mm. Is this Hennessy?

Mm-hmm.

Are you an archaeologist
in African studies?

I'm an optometrist.

I see a picture of you
in Africa over there.

Oh, that.

Yeah, that was... whew.

That was a pilgrimage.

Needed to pay my respects.

Ask for forgiveness...
Well, you know, right?

I don't. I really don't.

What, you... you've
never been to Africa?

No.

You got to go!

Man, it's your motherland.
What are you thinking?

Missing... what are you?

Huh? What?

Where are your ancestors from?

Congo? Ivory Coast?

Southeastern Bantu region.

I don't know... this spooky
thing called "slavery" happened,

and my entire ethnic
identity was erased, so...

(chuckling)

Exactly.

(light jazz music)

♪ ♪

Where have you been?

♪ ♪

You sure you want to...

stay here the whole time?

Yes.

Are you sure, though?

Earn.

It doesn't feel like you're in

a Spike Lee-directed

"Eyes Wide Shut" right now?

Hmm?

♪ ♪

Are these slave ships?

♪ ♪

Do you think that
I am happy here,

having to prostitute
myself for an opportunity?

Maybe.

♪ ♪

Do you think that I'm
happy that I need you here

in order to do that?

Maybe.

♪ ♪

Can we, for once,

just pretend that we
aren't who we are?

I mean, because we both know
that you're good at pretending.

♪ ♪

Mm.

♪ ♪

I prefer Craig Mack. (laughing)

If you... if you're gonna ask.

I have to say this.

You remind me of a
character in my new play.

- Really?
- You do.

- Oh. Mm.
- You really do.

So comical.

And handsome!

- Oh!
- Ooh.

Vanessa, you must
be in stitches every day,

married to such a funny man.

Mm.

Well, as I always say,

you have to laugh
to keep from crying.

Yeah, she always says that.

- Yes.
- You should slow down.

We're going up at
the Rialto next month.

My play, "With
Tail Between Legs."

- Mm, good title.
- I wrote and directed it.

It all takes place
at a strip club.

Two gangbangers hold
a pastor, a drug dealer,

and a pregnant teen hostage

in the middle of
Hurricane Katrina.

- That's a real situation.
- Mm! Sad.

I'm glad that
story's being told.

We've already
adapted it into a movie.

- We would love to read that.
- Love.

You know, and we were
just saying this the other day.

(both stammering)

both: The quality...

- Of theater is just gone.
- Of theater is just not there.

- It's just not there.
- Anymore.

It's just not there.

Well, let me tell you something.

Black Americans have to
keep fighting for good art.

- A-men! Come... mm!
- We have to.

Both: Mm-hmm.

- Hmm.
- (laughing)

- We really do.
- Mm-hmm.

(laughs) Oh.

Yeah, we really do. Yep.

- Ah.
- Is Vin Diesel black?

♪ ♪

And all you got to do

is give it up to Jesus, playboy.

Mm.

I don't think we
really have the time

to be church people.

Yeah, between going
to Lottie's cello recitals

and volunteering for
at-risk Filipino youth...

See, there...
there you go again.

Doubting!

The devil has clouded

your mind with doubt.

Now, I'm not just a
reverend at some church.

No.

You see, I am a reverend

at a mega-church.

- Yeah, you said that...
- Yeah, you kind of say that...

- Like twice already.
- Often.

And I am gonna teach you
both about money management.

And how to treat your woman.

With respect.

Hmm!

Player, she wants a new you.

She wants a saved man,
a man with a bangin' body

and money in the bank.

She's a pretty woman.

Thank you.

(laughing)

- Yes.
- Yeah.

What... what was your name?

And what do you do, Earn?

Nothing.

(laughter)

I mean that. Van
does everything.

She works, she raises our child,

she's smarter than
me, better than me.

I mean, that's
why I married her.

She honestly doesn't get
the credit she deserves.

I mean, ever.

But that doesn't deter
her from being what she is,

which is a mother, a provider,

and a partner.

Gun to my head,

I don't think I could even
look at another woman.

(soft jazz music)

♪ ♪

Vanessa, we're
looking for new members

in our Jack and
Jill Atlanta chapter.

You'd be a great fit.

- We have a sickle cell...
- I'm so sorry, um...

Will you excuse me?

I...

♪ ♪

She's fine.

(sighs)

(distant party chatter)

(deep breath)

What am I doing?

(crying)

What the fuck am I doing?

♪ ♪

Hey.

Hey.

What's wrong?

You're mean.

I'm sorry.

Don't be.

I'm getting drunk.

♪ ♪

Oh, people cannot stop
talking about you two.

Hey, Earn. Listen, I...

I'm about to do
a poetry reading,

and I tell you, I...

I would love to have
you front and center

and hear your thoughts.

That sounds splendid.

(lighter clicks)

Seems like Earn and
Craig are hitting it off.

(exhales)

Craig, Craig, Craig, Craig.

You don't think I know
how crazy my husband is?

This whole "Black
people as a hobby" shit?

Slam poetry? "Martin" reruns?

That nigga told my
95-year-old grandmother

that she was cooking
her collard greens wrong.

(laughter)

Well, girl, you married him.

Yeah, I did.

Can't eat if you don't
open your mouth.

I get this big-ass
house, and he gets

the black wife he always wanted.

(chuckles)

That's marriage.

I like Craig.

But I love my money.

You did good.

You married right, huh?

Only way to stay
fed in this world

is to keep the right company.

Do you ever wish
that you actually

had somebody to confide in?

Hmm?

Uh...

It just seems really obvious

that you don't think
Craig understands you.

Are you sorry
that you can't have

understanding and security?

That reminds me of something.

Something that Craig
actually made me read.

It goes something like,

"It's redundant to be both

black and sorry in the world."

It's kind of like that.

Hmm?

That's from "For Colored Girls."

Oh.

(laughter)

Oh, ugh.

Come on.

Let's go back inside.

Make sure our
husbands are behaving.

(beatboxing)

Jim Crow!

Has the name of a man, but...

is a ghost.

I am a man.

But Jim Crow

is haunting me,

like in that movie
"Poltergeist."

And I am stuck

in a television,

like that little girl.

Just get me out of here...

I don't want to be

in an electrical

appliance.

(scatting)

(hollow echoing)

Oh, but my point is moot.

I have seen strange fruit

loaded in this garden of Eden...

(whirring drowning out voices)

- (slamming)
- Shit.

- Oh, yes. They are here.
- Sorry.

- It's okay.
- Sorry about that, man.

- Feeding and feeding...
- Is that Red Bull and vodka?

Well, yeah, but, uh,
look, don't tell my wife.

I'm not supposed to
have too much caffeine.

- Where did you get that?
- Bar.

- I am a man, but...
- Bar.

- Jim Crow is haunting me.
- Excuse me.

Excuse me.

Hey, you're Paper
Boi's dude, ain't you?

- Can we get a picture?
- Uh... of... of me?

I guess. You here. He here?

No, he's not... actually,
right now's not a good time.

- (snorts)
- Hey.

Well, can you pass Paper
Boi a message for me?

Yeah, tell him my
sister likes him?

- Okay.
- All right.

- Here's a pair of her underwear.
- Whoa.

- Give it to Paper Boi.
- Why? No.

- Her name Tangela.
- Why are you... no.

Why do you have
your sister's underwear?

- (snorts) Never know, man.
- Never know what?

No. Out. Out. No, no. Go.

If you want more food,

Ramon will bring you
a to-go plate outside.

- Earn.
- Okay, good-bye.

Hey, man. What'd you think?

I would love any
honest criticism.

- Uh-uh. No, no.
- Is everything okay?

Yeah, we straight, we were just

saying "What's up"
to Paper Boi's boy.

- (laughing)
- Paper Boi?

(laughter)

Oh, my...

They must be confusing you.

- That's funny.
- Paper Boi.

- Confused with someone else.
- Someone else.

Paper Boi! I knew it!

I knew I knew you
from somewhere.

I had such a special
feeling about you, Earn.

Honey... honey, Earn
is Paper Boi's manager.

Oh, sorry.

A very, very talented
young rapper.

Oh, you manage rap?

(clears throat)

Yes. I manage rap.

There is nothing wrong
with earning money

doing something
with rap, it's fine.

Well, it's not just about money.

You know it's... you
know, he... he's my cousin.

- He's family.
- Yeah.

Honey, you're missing the point.

It's not about money.
This is bigger than money.

Paper Boi is underground.

I've been following
Paper Boi since the start.

That's how I knew you!

I mean, since the shooting?

Your pictures were everywhere.

Shooting?

Well, you aren't gonna
shoot up this party,

are you, Earn?

Mm... no, I wasn't
planning on it.

(laughing)

I'm kidding.

I get it.

Can't choose your family, huh?

Every decent person has at least

one trifling thug in the family.

(chuckles)

Oh, honey, let's
go say "hello" to...

Eh, no. I'm sorry.

This is whack. This
is... this is whack.

- Babe, please.
- No, no.

Okay, like, this
isn't real life, okay?

This... this party is
dumb. She's dumb.

This is all dumb.
You know that, Van.

- This is dumb.
- Okay. I'm sorry.

- This is dumb.
- We're gonna head out, right?

And you know what?

Stop stunting on
me about my culture.

Like, I'm not gonna
go back to Africa

and find my roots,
because you know what?

- I'm sorry.
- I'm fucking broke, dude.

- I'm broke.
- It's my bad.

- No, don't do that.
- Hey.

Don't "my bad" it. And
stop being so likable.

Stop being so likable,
like, I get... don't...

And don't be like
"I understand"...

- Earn, we're heading out now.
- Because you don't understand.

- We're going now.
- Like, I'm...

- Good night.
- For your hospitality.

Okay, well, we... we'd
love to see you soon.

Thank you very much for coming.

- Mm-hmm.
- Good night.

- Mm-hmm.
- Happy Juneteenth.

- So weird.
- Great party. Let's go, babe.

So weird. This is a weird place.

(engine rumbling)

I'll call her in the
morning and apologize.

I'm sorry.

Pull over.

You sick?

You okay?

("Chain Gang" by Sam Cooke)

♪ ♪

♪ I hear something saying ♪

♪ Uh! ♪

♪ Ah! ♪

♪ Uh! ♪

- ♪ Ah! ♪
- ♪ Well, don't you know ♪

♪ That's the sound of the men ♪

♪ Working on the chain ♪

♪ Gang ♪

♪ That's the sound of the men ♪

♪ Working on the chain gang ♪

♪ All day long, they're saying ♪

♪ Uh! ♪

♪ Ah! ♪

♪ Uh! ♪

♪ Ah! ♪

♪ Uh! ♪

♪ Ah! ♪

♪ Uh! ♪

- ♪ Ah! ♪
- ♪ Well, don't you know ♪

♪ That's the sound of the men ♪

♪ Working on the chain ♪

♪ Gang ♪

♪ That's the sound of the men ♪

♪ Working on the chain gang ♪

♪ All day long,
they work so hard ♪

♪ Till the sun ♪

♪ Is going down ♪

♪ Working on the
highways and byways ♪

♪ And wearing, wearing a frown ♪

♪ You hear them moaning
their lives away... ♪