Dear White People (2017–…): Season 3, Episode 8 - Volume 3: Chapter VIII - full transcript

Would it be considered...

cultural body-shaming to note that, uh,

those look a bit small for you, boo.

Still warm.

How did you get into Bechet after-hours?

My reach is long.

So what's the scuttlebutt?

That you're very strange?

You're so funny, Muffy.

Look,

we are both young,



attractive, whip-smart women

who experience many a challenge,

both in the world and on this campus,

so,

if there is anything
in that specific realm

that you'd like to discuss with me,

and only me,

exclusively,

I'm here for you.

Well, that is such a lovely offer.

Thank you very much.

You're welcome.

The other night I was in A-P...

Riveting.



Go on.

I overheard you talking to Coco

and...

seems like quite the pickle
you've landed on.

Professor Brown's... pickle?

Sorry, I'm usually more artful than this.

Oh, are you?

Would you be willing to talk about
what happened?

I have no idea what you're talking about.

And even if I did,

there's no way I'd let you use me
to advance your journalistic ambition.

No, no. That is not my intention.

- Even if it is an unavoidable side-effect.
- Hmm!

I want to tell the truth

about people who hold themselves up
to be cultural leaders,

only to themselves be morally compromised.

Wouldn't breaking, entering,
and rifling through someone's laundry

be considered morally compromising?

Be the change you seek.

Also,

those aren't my panties.

The man wrote College Dropout
for Chrissake!

Have some respect!

He also infused vulnerability
into hip-hop...

Scoot over.

...paving a road for more nuanced
and unique expressions

from men across the entire
African diaspora.

From...

what I understand.

Did you overhear that understanding
from someone?

- Reg!
- Huh?

Are you filling little Clifton's head
with pro-Kanye propaganda?

Kanye?

I'm not paying attention to him.

I love myself now.

But does it have to be pass-fail?

Can't we be allowed to learn
and grow from our mistakes?

I was raised in the church.

We're well aware, nigga.

Where I was taught to love the Lord,

and scorn those who didn't fall
into cis-heteronormative categories.

Mmm! Psalms, chapter five, verse seven!

Now...

I literally pray to God that Chester
ends up with Brown Eyes.

Brown Eyes! Yes, Lord!

Please help this
anonymous gay man find love!

An-tee-way, I have an idea...

I feel that.

Guys, we can't keep punishing people
for mistakes they made in the past.

- These are facts, but let's refocus...
- But we can't suffer fools.

If you've been in the news cycle
for more than a 24-hour period,

I expect you to read it
every once in a while

and keep ignorant shit out your mouth.

All right. Okay. All right.

Listen, right now
we're a little heavy on the black,

light on the caucus.

So I propose we use the rest of our time

to try something bonding and fun.

No cell phones.

Put them in there.
Thank you very much. Very kindly.

Okay, okay.

- No, fun makes me itch.
- Ugh.

All right. Okay.

Thank you.

- Al! You're in public!
- What was I supposed to tell her?

- Not to take all her clothes off?
- Al, what is wrong with you?

- Yes.
- Whatever.

I'm expecting a call.

Boy, stop.

Everyone, we are playing Mafia.

The game where everyone dies
and Al makes a fool of himself.

Only one time I yelled "Jenga."

Okay, none of this is helping us bond.

Now, heads down.

If the townspeople don't come together,

no one survives!

All the townspeople are asleep.

If you are the killer, open your eyes.

Point to your victim.

Okay, everyone open your eyes.

Morning has dawned.

It's daylight savings time,
so you're all a little groggy

because your bodies haven't
fully adjusted to spring forward.

Kelsey, you're off-task.

Overnight...

we lost a real one.

Rest in everlasting peace...

my darling Coco!

That's some bullshit!

Why am I always the first to die?

I have a few guesses.

Well, Sam, bring them to the group.

You guys have five minutes to decide
who you think the killer is.

But we're talking about Coco.

Everybody here has a motive.

You know what?

Sorry, Coco, you're dead
and ghosts can't talk!

- Sam did it.
- Sam?!

Be real.

Y'all have had beef
since freshman year.

Because you're a fuckboy.

I second that.
She seems... plotty.

Okay, first of all,

how you, of all people,
gon' cast the first stone?

And second, wouldn't that be a bit
on the nose?

Exactly. It's a double fake out.

Okay, you're the only one here
even capable of that level of...

Blackface party.

Ooh, yeah, Sam.

Yeah, it's Sam.

Mm-mmm.

Nah, it's Troy.

Probably found out about Coco's fuck buddy
and now you're mad.

Fuck buddy?

Coco does not have a fuck buddy.

Coco, you're dead!

Hey, what's he talking about?

Okay, time's up.

Everyone go to sleep.

Killer, open your eyes.

Now that you're dead,

may I ask you a question?

The answer is yes,
I did just wake up like this,

but you can get there, too.

You simply have to determine
that you're willing to make an effort.

Thanks for the tip.

Also, would you be willing to go
on the record

about Muffy's allegation that
Professor Brown sexually assaulted her?

All right,

another night has passed,

and while you've been asleep,

there's been another murder.

Open your eyes.

This is going to be hard to hear.

So, I'd like everyone to turn
to the person next to them and say,

"We will get through this together."

Kelsey!

Reggie's gone!

- Shot!
- No!

No, that would be way too insensitive.
Reggie was...

Reggie was smothered.

Someone took two memory foam pillows

and they formed a cone
and they pressed his face...

Kelsey!

Please!

- I think Sam did it.
- Again?

- Is this a bit?
- I'm seeing a pattern here.

All of your ex-friends.

- Then why aren't you dead, Clarence?
- Mmm.

I think it was Clifton!

Joe?!

I'm practically your boyfriend's
best friend!

Not even sort of.

Yeah, but I just don't trust your face.
It's too...

happy.

It is?!

This is devastating!

Is it? 'Cause even now
you're kind of smiling.

This is feeling racially motivated,

but I co-sign on it being Clifton.

Interesting that you jump at the chance
to move the blame off yourself, Sam.

She's good at that.

Wait, what? Excuse me?

- Oh, who said that?
- You said that.

And Kordell think it's you, too,

by the way, Clifton.

Or... Or could it be Joelle?

No, it could not be.

You were the first to put it on Clifton,

and just now you turned on Sam
faster than a Misty Copeland pirouette.

That reference feels suss.

Okay, Kelsey, can you please do something?

Because the townspeople have gone
way over their five minutes of discussion

and are also out of pocket.

All in favor for executing Sam

and Joelle for murder,

raise your hands.

And Joelle?

Sorry, ladies. Bye bye.

Can I just leave?
I don't want to miss my phone call.

Lionel, don't nobody
got your phone number.

Some do now.

- Eh.
- Sadly, the killer still runs among you.

Now,

close your eyes and go to sleep!

Deny it all you want,

but I know what I heard, Coco.

Whatever you think you heard
is none of your business.

And you should find a real story to cover.

Sexual assault is a real story.

Whoa. What did we just walk in on?

Nothing, man. Brooke's tripping.

Let's just say that our precious
Moses Brown

isn't as perfect as people think.

- Whoa.
- That's nuts.

According to Muffy Tuttle, it's not.

She didn't tell you that.

No, she told you that.

I heard her.

And every single person on this campus
deserves to know Moses is a predator.

Hold up, hold up. You can't just say that
based on some whispers you heard.

You don't even know if it's true,

which, obviously, it's not.

How is that obvious?

Wait, what?

Welp, we've lost our secret detective.

Sorry to see you go, Troy.

You were always so...

Actually, I don't know you that well.

- You'd have loved me.
- Hmm.

Plus, I know who the killer is.

- What?
- How?

It's all in the eyes, Lionel.

You don't get to be at a seat
of student government

without knowing something
about human...

nature.

What?

I... I think Al's the killer.

It's the only thing that makes sense.

And he's been unusually quiet for Al.

Guys, Lionel's right.

Al has a mean streak.

I once heard him say
he was about to blow up the bathroom.

Yo, I know you're not
coming for me, homeboy.

Not with all the fiery secrets
in your past.

What's that mean?

What were you doing at Davis House
the night of the fire, Clifton?

Does anybody else smell
a burnt Hot Pocket?

No! No one does.

A... And this is typical Al.

Lying to save himself.

All in favor of executing Clifton,
the friendly fire-starting eunuch.

Clifton does give me incel vibes.

I beg your pardon.

I fucks.

- Eww.
- I still say it's Al.

Yeah, he is a pretty angry young man.

Of course he's angry.
He's a black man in America.

And you all are racially profiling him
without a shred of evidence!

Thank you, Troy!

You're talking to a dead man!

Don't the rules matter to anyone?

If you all don't come together,

you're all going to die

violent, horrible deaths

where only your dental records can be used
to identify

your charred corpses!

But I'm scared.

I'm just saying, Muffy...

okay, has been flirting with Moses
since he got here.

Wait, something happened to Muffy?

She's been flirting with him.

Flirting how?

Bringing him her Muffy muffins and shit.

Yeah, really brazen stuff.

Troy.

Help me out, nigga.
You know how Muffy gets down.

Uh...

Okay, what we're not going to do
is slut-shame.

Or use slut-shaming to justify assault.

These fools think I'm the killer.

Just wait until they figure out
who it really is.

I'm not slut-shaming anybody,
I'm just stating a fact.

Okay, Reg, we understand
that Moses is your hero and all...

- It ain't got nothing to do with that.
- Doesn't it?

Are you telling me you don't put people
up on pedestals,

only see in them what you want?

Not liars. You cured me of that.

Can we get back to the point?

He did it.

Hold up, hold up. We don't know enough.

No, I know what I heard.

- Are you standing there calling me a liar?
- Yes.

I can't believe Moses was willing
to risk it all.

I mean, Muffy's cute, but damn.

It's not about sex.

It's about power.

And the power dynamic alone
makes it wrong.

I don't know.

I think a professor can hypothetically
sleep with a student

without it being an abuse of power.

Professors know their students
virtually worship them.

They lord their access over our heads.

I think even a student-professor
relationship

can be consensual

if it's between consenting adults
who are consenting to...

So Troy's fucked a professor. Got it.

Okay, well, in this case,

Muffy's saying it wasn't consensual,

so it's a little different.

It's a lot different.

Well, Muffy's not saying anything at all.
She won't even corroborate Brooke's story.

She's not just gonna jump out there
and put her business in the streets.

It's delicate.

And now I think it's important
that we focus on the facts,

- and the fact is, none of us know...
- I know!

Okay? I know.

All right?
And the point is, he didn't do it.

Period.

Man, this is a bunch of bullshit, man.
Brooke's got nothing.

Feel free to malign me all you want,

but the First Amendment affords the press
rights and privileges

that don't disappear
because things may become inconvenient.

There is a story here,

and I'm going to uncover it.

Whatever.

I'm done talking about this.

And y'all need to stop gossiping

before y'all ruin a man's
fucking reputation.

I wouldn't kill nobody.

That's right! I win!

I knew it!

I knew Lionel was the killer!

As God is my witness.

Shame on you, Lionel.
And the whole phone bit?

Sorry.

I'm so sorry.

- Lionel, murdering is a sin!
- Yes!

Okay, Clifton,
you can take it down a smidge.

I would have guessed that shit
if those haters hadn't ruined my game.

So, you still want me to stay the night
or nah?

Um, Sam's going to Gabe's
as per uzh, so...

sure, whatever.

Ah.

An enthusiastic whatever.

Cool.

Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool.

I guess we were all wrong about Lionel.

Mm-hmm.

You assume someone's innocent,
then they...

turn out to be a monster.

Yep. Crazy.

Good thing Mafia's just a game.

I just don't get how you can brush
this whole Moses thing aside.

How can you not think there's at least
a chance he could have done this?

I don't want to do this, Joe.

I'm not about to argue with you
over some shit

neither one of us knows anything about.

But just think about what he could have...

Really, dude?

♪ Useless goat ♪

♪ Ewu, ewu, I'm the ewu joh ♪

♪ Useless goat
Ewu, ewu, I'm the ewu joh ♪

♪ They no impress me how they talk
I’m the ewu joh ♪

♪ I'm not impressed ♪

♪ They no impress me how they talk
I’m the ewu joh ♪

♪ I'm not impressed ♪

Hey.

- Mm-hmm?
- Um...

I know we haven't talked much
since Sam's house, but...

we did have a moment.

We did.

Your skin's never looked better.

What's up?

Look, I don't know the situation,

but...

I got your back.

You and Muffy.

You know where to find me.

I just wanted to tell you,

I realize how valuable
this opportunity is,

and I have a list of things
that I want to do and see,

and how I'm going to make my mark
on that fellowship.

Your mark.

And what points of view
do you think you'd represent?

Well, I'd be the first black woman
to ever get it.

Is that an answer to my question?

Is the novelty of race and gender
the only thing you'd be bringing?

No, no, of course not. I... I...

obviously can do the work.

I'm resilient... uh...

a quick study, charming...

What effect would that have
on the fellowship program?

A good one?

How so?

Your need for the fellowship is clear,

but their need for you is...?

You're sweating.

But I've worked my butt off.

Not sleeping, not hanging out.

I've only thrown half the shade
that I'm famous for,

and I'm literally at the top
of your class.

How is that not enough?

I noted

that grades were a prerequisite,

but they are not the only criteria.

I'm giving my recommendation
to someone else.

You're butchering the accent, but okay.

That's all you got?

You're going to let him
belittle you like that?

If you don't snatch every fiber of this
man's edges, all three of them,

you're a bigger fool than I thought.

You're a bully.

Not happy unless you're putting
someone else's light under a basket.

Well, it's not my fault
that you're miserable.

That's all on you.

Life is misery.

An endless wanting
of things you'll never have.

Neither of us being right
will change that.

However,

only one of us is being paid
for their opinion.

Fuck that guy.

He drives a filthy Prius
covered in bumper stickers

of every Ivy League college

except for ours.

Dick.

I was counting on that recommendation.

And I earned it.

It's probably just a sign.

A sign?

She means she feels like
a fake phony fraud

and it's only a matter of time
before people find out.

Blah, blah, blah,
South Side of Chicago.

Frankly, she's right.

I say quit while you're ahead.

Babe.

Mm-mmm. Not babe!

Colandrea.

You're brilliant, you're amazing,
you know that.

You remind everyone, all the time,
every day.

I don't know what I know anymore.

I'm only at this school
'cause my dad's the president.

- You know that, right?
- Uh, yeah, for sure.

Never doubted it.

Doors...

they fly open for me.

Even though I'm painfully unremarkable.

You're stressed out
just thinking you're an impostor,

meanwhile I'm actually an impostor,

and yet...

I sleep like a baby.

Yeah, it's pretty gross
how colicky you get at night.

I just need to cut out the root veggies.
I'll work on that.

The world, it doesn't require
a lot from me,

it just wants me to win.

But...

I still do the best that I can
with the advantages I have.

You're not that unremarkable.

Oh, gee, thanks.

Listen, if you want that fellowship,
you don't need Queensfield.

There's a dozen other professors here

who'd be happy
to help you achieve your dreams.

I already have five backups.

None of whom have tenure.

The professors here
are so fucked up.

Thanks for getting me together.

Hey, do you want to...?

I'm exhausted.

I was going to say...

watch a movie.

Hey, um, can I talk to you for a minute?

What about?

I think you kind of already know.

All right,

well, I... I know you're cool with Muffy,

and so I was wondering if, you know...

what you knew about all this.

Did Muffy really say...

If I asked you about
the intimate conversations

you have with your friends,

would that be okay?

Would that be any of my business?

So she did say it.

What she said doesn't matter.

What matters is the fact
that you don't have the right to ask.

I see you're getting
your recommended eight. Hmm.

Did you assault Muffy Tuttle?

Excuse me?

There's a rumor.

- I know, it's... it's crazy.
- Whoa, whoa.

Where is this coming from?

You know how things
float around on campus.

I am so stupid.

What?

Well, you know...

You know I host a lot of events
at my house.

Dinners with students and faculty and...

Thursday afternoon teas.

Anyway, I started having
office hours here,

because my office barely gets any light.

- Clearly an OSHA violation.
- No doubt.

She came over.

Nothing happened.

And...

Hey, between you and me,
it's only because I didn't let it.

Those moist muffins.

I knew this was
some white fantasy-type shit, man.

It's typical for students
to develop crushes on professors.

You know, when you're...

you're helping to develop new beliefs
and cultivating new ideas and...

But I did not expect her

to kiss me.

Word?

She... she kissed you?

Yeah. But I shut it down.

- I shut that shit down immediately.
- Of course you did, man.

Why would she say I assaulted her?

Mad? Embarrassed?

I should've seen this coming.

This is... It isn't your fault, Moses.

You were always gonna reject her
and she was always gonna be mad about it.

You might be right, but...

with the Best Mode launch coming,
this is suspicious timing.

Whiteness never lets up.

Oh, my God,

I hadn't even thought about the app.

What are you going to do?

Hmm.

We need to think.

Well, I guess if he said it didn't happen,
then we have to believe him, right?

I do believe him, Joe.

The question is, why don't you?

Because why would she make it up?

Really, Joe?

Really what?

This country doesn't have
a rich history of white women

falsely accusing black men
of all kinds of shit?

From whistling to rape?

That's weak as hell and you know it.

Why are black men so quick
to defend each other on this?

Black people and our fucking issues!

You do know these things happen
to our community, too, right?

And I don't just mean a little bit.

What are you doing?

A bathroom video of you performing
"I Believe I Can Fly."

Last year. Apropos of nothing.

Now, what were you saying
about cultural blind spots?

- I'm allowed to evolve.
- Okay. Okay.

Well, let me ask you a question.

You think if you were assaulted
on campus...

Whoa! Maybe not throw that out
as a hypothetical to a woman!

I'm... I'm just saying,
you think someone like Muffy,

a.k.a. Miss "Black women
should just lean in,"

would come to your defense?

Don't start.

I'm the one who told you about

that Psychology of Women Quarterly study,
Reggie.

Mmm. You mean the one
where white female college students

said that they'd be less likely to help
if they thought a black woman

was at risk of being sexually assaulted

because they felt less personally
connected to the situation?

That the study you told me about?

The one that made it clear
that race was more important than gender

when it comes to them
feeling personal responsibility?

- Okay, whatever.
- You read that, too?

- I did.
- Because... 'Cause I can't tell.

- Well, I read it, I gave it to you.
- Okay, you had your glasses?

And what about everything Moses
has done for all the black students here?

- Including me.
- What about it?

He's changed my life, Joelle.

And... And, like, think about what
this will do to the app.

Ugh. Best Mode. Oh, my God.

Ohh.

I see now.

What are you talking about?

You're jealous.

You've been salty since day one
that I'm using the app,

that I'm hanging out with Moses
instead of you.

Because God forbid that someone
or something not you

could possibly help me.

Are you fucking serious right now?

Yeah. Admit it.

You don't fuck with Moses,

so you're looking for reasons to... to...

to just hate on him,

like, for real or imagined.

Just because I don't worship at the feet
of your black messiah

doesn't make me jealous.

Or you know what?

Maybe I am jealous.

You're going hard in the paint
for a man you just met,

and meanwhile I feel like a side chick
and Moses is wifey.

Don't talk to me like I'm a sucker, Joe,
seriously.

Hey, did you guys hear...

- Hear what?
- What now?

Muffy changed her story.

Now she's saying that nothing happened.

That she was confused.

Ugh. Sacrebleu.

You have to help me.

Don't tell me what I have to do.

You claim you want to champion
women's rights,

but you're willing to throw
another woman under the bus to do it?

This has nothing to do with Muffy.

It never did.

Is that Brooke?

Brooke who thinks
the rules don't apply to her?

Brooke who's so wrapped up
in her own needs

that she doesn't care who she screws over?

That's a yes.

The answer to every question
I just asked is yes.

I get it, okay?

I'm sorry, Kelsey,

that I was vulnerable enough with you
to be honest,

before and after, as best I could.

I'm sorry that I didn't know
what I didn't know,

and when I did, my truth hurt you.

Cut it out.

You don't just get to come here
and absolve yourself.

I made a mistake.

But nothing matters more to me
than the truth.

I would die for it.

And maybe that makes me too much for you
or too much for...

anybody.

But for the first time,

I think we're standing on something
that may be worth

some real personal sacrifice.

And I think it's worth it.

She needs to holler at some
benzodiazepine.

No shame in it.

I don't disagree.

This has gotten me through
some of my worst childhood moments.

Is this your way of telling me
you were a fat kid?

Yeah.

Professors have too much power, Muffy.

We both know that.

I probably made more of the Moses thing
than I should have.

I mean, when I...

think about it, nothing really happened.

You sure about that?

Because if he hurt you...

Uh, isn't feminism about making a choice?

I've made mine.

I think.

I can respect that.

More than you know.

I'm just...

I'm really confused.