Original subtitles

Get away from me!

Milk! Milk, you in there?

Grover, Jamal!

Come on, y'all, stop playing! Open the door!

Whew.

- 'Sup, little brody? What's going on?

- Niggas is trying to kill me!

- Nigga, did you just say the N word?

- You mean black brothers is after you, right?

- No, niggas! Look!

- Oh, shit!

Hey, my dudes.

I just busted three nuts in under a minute.

That's got to be a world record, right?

- Yo, all I'm saying is,

someone shot me a Periscope of a Vine

of a Snapchat of a screengrab

of a text--

That say they saw Cindy pee in the shower.

- You hear that?

Your girl like them golden showers.

I wonder if she mud sharks

in the back of the toilet too.

You already know them Germans is on that.

- Y'all need to OJ that shit.

Cindy's a classy lady

and my future baby mama.

-

Are you ready for some sex?

-

- Snoring sounds like consent to me, bitch.

Are you ready for my big, fat Albert?

- Oh, shit, it's a Bill Cosby sex tape.

- Time to put the pudding pop

where it doesn't go.

It's not rape

if she's not awake.

- Oh, shit.

Cindy finally hit me back.

She must want to get wifed up.

- Say what, my nig?

- I mean, she must want to have her cakes beat

with no emotional connection.

- Damn, I can't find the sex tape.

- I got it, but it ain't playing.

What the fuck is a buffering?

- Where'd it go?

- Thanks, Obama.

- God damn it, Cosby! What the fuck?

- Man, this is some whole hey-hey-hey type shit.

I'ma go home and watch Ray J.

- Whoa, what?

- I ain't getting no data now.

- Me neither.

Damn Huxtable roofied the whole Internet.

- I got to go see what Cindy was texting me about.

I'll holler. - Where you going?

- To the library, my nigs.

I know they got Wi-Fi.

- What's a li-burry?

- It's where homeless people chill when Starbucks is closed.

Damn, it's like Hogwarts, my nig,

but without the whimsy.

- Aye, who the fuck is Whimsy?

- Oh, shit, that's the librarian.

- Sorry, old-ass lady.

I thought you was mark-ass Whimsy.

- If you could just get us online,

we'll be on our way.

You hit like a bitch.

- Aah!

- Follow me.

- God damn, now we ain't never gonna see

what Big Bill was working with.

- Fuck Bill, I'm trying to hit Cindy back.

- Ladies and gentlemen,

at approximately 11:37 am Pacific Standard Time,

some four minutes ago,

the Internet broke.

We're receiving word that the cellular network

is also down.

May God have mercy on our souls.

- God damn it, navigation system.

What do I do? What do I do?

Argh!

- What the fuck?

Well, fuck it--might as well get a smoke break.

Damn, no game, no weed.

What else can a nigga do?

- Oh, well, I guess I can learn

how to get this bread.

- You broke it, cabron, like for serious.

- No, I didn't even touch it.

- Give it to me and stuff, ese.

I don't know what you talking about.

Give it to me, you-- - Shhh!

- Welcome back to MSNBC.

The White House has confirmed that the World Wide Web

is currently broke.

The outage was caused by a nationwide spike in traffic

following the leak of a Bill Cosby sex tape.

- The government has assured us

they are doing everything they can to fix the situation,

so we all can get a good look at Bill's BBC.

- Can't wait, Thad.

And now, back to our special airing

of "Ghost Dad."

- This is amazing. - Amazing?

Esto es mierda.

- You don't see it, do you?

If you take away the mindless drivel

that corporations peddle in the name of entertainment

and eliminate access to unrealistic portrayals

of intimacy, people will return

to what really matters.

- What's that, ese?

- The black man.

- Hey, straight up, I'm gonna miss "Yo Gabba Gabba."

- Man, y'all too old for that "Yo Gabba Gabba."

Y'all need to get up on that "Doc McStuffins, Black Doctor."

What y'all looking all stunned for?

You think I'ma trust The Man

with my communications?

Miss me with that Patriot Act biz, breh.

I hacked into a Chinese satellite.

I'm off the grid, son.

- Now, that's gangster.

- Who wants to watch a crooked cop get beat down?

- Me, me--I do, I do! - Me, over here!

- All this destruction,

where we gonna eat, bruh?

- I just hope Cindy's okay, my nigs,

'cause if the world's gonna end,

it's gonna end with my thang in her mouth.

- Man, who care about her swampy ass?

She probably kicking it with Randy somewhere,

eating boogers or peeing on each other

or some other shit.

I'm ain't finna die for her dirty ass.

- I'm gonna let the disrespect slide for the moment,

but only because we just saw a dude

get his face eaten off by cats.

- Gah!

- The streets is getting real.

Maybe we should just roll to Milk's house.

- Whoa, pump them brakes, thickness.

What about your house?

- Nah, Shamal's there, and she fat.

What about Grover's? - My house?

Milk's the one that lives in the gated neighborhood.

- Yeah, and didn't you say your moms

and that bitch-ass nig Uncle Joey was on vacation?

I don't care if the Internet's broke!

I am white. Make it work!

- Yo, this ho is turning into a bitch.

Let's get to my crib ASAPer than Rocky.

Look at us--having a great time,

playing a game invented in ancient Africa.

We don't need no Xbox.

- Yo, we not making no bread, Malik.

- Yo, Malik, my cousin Chuy need to use the computer.

- What?

- He need to fill out his unemployment.

- Rodrigo, you out here running your mouth

about my broadband?

What I tell you about putting my business in the streets?

Chuy give you this. You like?

- What am I gonna do with a toy truck?

- Or I got this. - Hmm.

- There's a lot more where this came from.

- You got the juice now.

- Yeah, and I'm thirsty.

- That's it, we locked up tighter

than Rick Ross's skinny jeans.

Ain't no mark-ass poor people getting in here now.

- Yo, what do you think Cindy meant by "hey"?

Do you think it was a "You're a cool guy,

and I'd love to kick it after school" type of "hey,"

or more of a "Damn, Grover, I want to high-five your dick

with my mouth" type of "hey"?

- Honestly, bro, I don't even know why you want

to step to Cindy after all that shit Jamal said.

- You don't really believe him, do you?

Where's he at, anyway?

- Next. - Wait!

I had a triple word score!

- I was hoping for five minutes.

- Pete, put eyes on this.

- It's vintage. - It's costume.

Three minutes tops!

- She lied. Give her ten seconds.

- Thank you so much.

- Size? - Seven, sir.

- Man, I wear a grade school six.

- Hey, I wear a seven.

- Didn't nobody ask you what size you wear, Pete.

- Man, that's fucked up.

- Give him 20 seconds.

Give me the shoes.

- 500SL convertible.

- Seven minutes.

- Nailed it.

- Hey, there, sweetie,

come to the free adult version of Facebook

at Slitfinder.com.

- Earmuffs!

- What the fuck?

Jamal done went Medina all over my kitchen.

- He left one tangerines, though.

- Man, I don't eat no tree garbage.

I drink all my fruits in soda.

- You know what he likes to do after he eats?

- Take a nap. - After that?

- Take a shit. - After that?

- Lick his fingers. - After that?

- Rhiyonce!

- Mm-mm-mm, did you finish?

I did--twice.

Remember, it's our secret.

- Jesus, it stinks in here.

It smells like sweaty balls,

cheese, and burnt rubber.

- A booty bouquet.

- Rhi Rhi, did he hurt you?

What the fuck is that look?

I know you ain't go raw in my girl.

- Is there any other way?

- You fat bitch. - Fuck that blow-up trick.

What we gonna do for food?

We gonna starve to death because of selfish-ass

CeeLo Green over here.

- CeeLo?

I always thought of myself

as a young Big Sean type of nig.

- Man, we arguing like some NBA hoes

at All-Star Weekend.

Let's just go to Food for Mo.

- Food for Mo ain't no mo.

- Oh, shit.

We gonna die!

- Now, how this shit gonna be called "The Profit"

when he ain't make no bread?

Man, this some bullshit.

Your boy 'Trely can do better than that.

Now, before I go any further,

I'ma need a pseudonym to protect my street cred.

Hmm, Mark Make It Twain?

Edgar Allan Never-Poe?

Oh, I got it. Blunter S. Thompson.

Yeah, that shit amazing!

- Now how we gonna survive?

We got no food and no weapons.

All we got is water and one bitch-ass tangerines.

- And it's only a matter of time

before those fools break down the gate.

I'm trying to be a legend,

not "I Am Legend."

- Yo, straight up, if this go down,

I'm eating the rapist.

Mmm, look at all that shoulder meat.

- Eating the homey feels kind of gay,

unless you got some hot sauce.

- You know what? Fuck that.

Uncle Joey got one of them Jodie Foster-type panic rooms.

Grover, you can roll.

Jamal, Rhiyonce's coming with me,

so you can go fuck yourself, fat boy.

- Guys, seriously, though, my corn syrups is getting low.

- He got all kinds of good shit in there--

food, water.

He even got that BET "Baldwin Hills"

collector set on DVD.

And, rapist, you ain't gonna see none of it.

Oh, shit, he changed it,

just like a bitch-ass white boy.

Now what? - Hurry, I'm about to crash.

- That's what your greedy ass get.

- Hey, y'all, keep a cool booty.

- Duke, go get bitch-ass Uncle Joey

and tell him we need the code to the panic room.

Oh, and before you leave,

tell him eat a dick.

- We need a landline, my nigs.

- The hell is that?

- It's a sort of communication

that old nigs used to talk to each other.

We just need to find a old person.

I'm sure they'll have one.

- Oh, I know. Old-ass Miss Jenkins.

- Hopefully she got some pie chilling on the windowsill.

Mmm, mmm, mmm.

- Let's gear up.

Jamal, come on.

Almost there.

- Ooh, shit, it's Kobe Bryant.

- Help me.

- Just pass me the trophies,

and we'll pull you out.

- Pass?

- These was Shaq's anyway.

- I don't think anybody's home.

What the hell are you doing, Milk?

- Being a G.

The world's ending, my dudes,

and we ain't going out like no punks.

Shamon.

Oh, look at this bitch photo album.

She older than wood.

Damn, Ms. Jenkins was the original jump-off.

Ken Griffey Juniors,

Magic Johnsons,

Shawn Kemps,

Martin Luther King Seniors?

- Man, check these out.

Miss Jenkins is packin' in the backin'.

Booty for weeks.

- Oh, hell, yeah-- teeth in the jar.

You know she give them good gummies.

- Uhh! Come on, can!

Uhh!

Can't get this shit open. Uhh!

- Jamal, no!

- I'm a legend, bitch.

- You idiot, you broke the landline.

- Y'all want some pork and beans?

- You go raw in that too? Nasty motherfucker.

- Oh, shit.

- Oh, shit! - Hands up, don't shoot!

- Get the fuck out.

Wait, just the white boy.

You two dark ones can stay.

- Aight, let's dip, y'all.

- Mmm, cocoa butter. That takes me back.

- Aw, hell, no.

- And barrel roll.

Hands up, assholes.

- Not you, Milton. You're fine.

- Don't worry, fellas. I got this.

- What are you boys doing in this neighborhood, huh?

- Wouldn't be looting, would you?

- Nice!

- Sir, we were just--

- Hey, did I tell you to talk?

- You might want to watch that lip, son.

It sounds aggressive,

and I'm starting to fear for my life right now.

- You only stopped us 'cause we black,

you dirty-ass pigs.

I got it all on tape.

- Look, guns!

- Get over here!

- No, no, not my Taser.

This doesn't feel good.

No, no, the other shoe has dropped.

- Worldstar!

- Come on, Milk.

- This is all I have.

I just need a few minutes to order some diapers.

The market is all out because of the looting.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, likely story.

Let me tell you what's really happening.

You're jonesing for some "Housewives of Atlanta,"

and it's making you crazy.

- No, seriously, my baby keeps shitting.

- Come on, ese, move it. Time's up.

- I had to reset my password.

I'm so sorry.

It will just be another moment.

Aah!

- You think it's a pudding pop,

but it's not.

You still put it in your mouth, though.

Zippity bop pow!

- Pete, what is this?

- Hey, cash rules everything around me.

You know the rest.

- You disloyal mother-- man, that's it.

No more Internet for anybody.

I want everybody up out of here right now.

Not you.

We came up in this game together.

- You don't have to do this!

- I didn't do this. You did.

- Please, Malik, not in the face!

I want a open casket.

- You really sadden me, Pete.

Am I my brother's keeper?

- Yes, I am!

Argh!

- Sorry, Pete.

- Uh, can I go now?

- Man, get out of here.

- Don't feel bad. You had to do it.

- Way to go, dickheads. You know what?

Me and Rhiyonce would have been better off without y'all.

- "Y'all"? What you mean, y'all?

Jamal's the one that messed everything up.

- Me?

I'm the one that found the phone.

- You also broke it.

- Man, we in some Book of Rebalations-type shit,

and y'all standing here arguing about swine and beans

and phones, and Rhiyonce laying up there damaged goods.

I can't even look at her no more.

- You know what?

You've become a real liability on these streets, my nig.

- Well, you been acting like a little biyatch

ever since that text from Cindy.

Might want to change your tampon, ho!

- Who you calling ho, ho?

You so hard, come get some.

You just jealous that you would never have a chance

with a girl like Cindy.

I don't even know why I kick it with you.

- Oh, it's like that, huh?

Well, I think it's about time you learned the truth.

- Hey, look, the new kid got a butthole

on the side of his dome.

Let's call him Butthole Brains.

- Man, he got a hole in the side of his brain

and a brain inside his head inside of his hole.

- Nice shoes, buster.

Where you get those,

Payless or Can't Pay No Less?

- Jamal, listen, buddy.

Grover's new here, and he's having a hard time

making friends, and as you can tell by his shoes--

- He broke as shit?

- That wasn't what I was going to say,

but, yes, he is broke as shit.

So would you do me a favor and play with him?

I'll give you a free lunch ticket.

- Make it two free lunch tickets,

and you got a deal.

The moral of the story is,

fish sticks and coffee cake is the only reason

you got a friend right now--

fish sticks and coffee cake.

Fish sticks and coffee cake!

Ooh!

- Look, baby, I ain't saying it was your fault,

but I should take the air out you right now.

But I can't, 'cause I love you too much.

I just need to know one thing.

Was he bigger than me?

I knew he couldn't match my nine.

Now let's clean these holes and get it cracking.

- I thought I could help people transform

from the brainwashed drones they'd become

into real, free-thinking humans again.

But having all that power is too much for one man.

It corrupted me-- made me less than human.

Bottom line,

it turned me into a cracker.

- Give me that Internet, boy!

- We know you're in there!

- I got to get out of here.

- He's getting away!

- There he is!

- Uh-oh.

- What they want, Malik?

- The Internet, man.

I got it on lock. I don't even want it anymore.

- Can you help me find Cindy? - Is she lost?

- Nah, Grover just think she want to get busy,

but she don't.

- I'll suck your dick, little man.

I'll suck it real hard.

- Argh! No!

I don't want them to do that.

I'll help you find your girl if you promise to keep me safe

and let me sleep in your room tonight.

- Oh, shit!

- Run, fellas!

- I'll can use Cindy's cell phone number

to triangulate her position.

Boom, got eem.

- Moment of truth, y'all.

- Hell, yeah. It's back.

- Uh! Uh!

- Hey, Grover, what's up?

- Hey, Cindy, just, uh, wanted to check in

and see if you was okay.

The Internet's been down.

- Oh, I been, uh,

tied up for the last 20 minutes.

- Cindy Louise Scrilla, did you drop a beefy deuce

in the guest bathroom again?

- Dad!

- It took me three flushes and a coat hanger

to get it down!

- Okay!

- I'm just saying, the next time we go

to Boston Market,

you are not getting the meatloaf!

- So what's up, guys?

- What's good with that text?

- I never texted you. - Boo, stop frontin'.

Uh, oh. Uh, okay.

I'm so stupid.

I meant to text Grandma, not Grover.

I must have fat-fingered it. Whoops.

- Cool, yeah, makes sense.

Uh, we got to go now. I'll holler.

- Lord knows the girl needs to eat more greens.

Her insides is rotten!

Lord, they rotten.

- Smell you later, Cindy.

- You better hope she don't wipe back to front.

- And that, my niggas, is how you stack your bread,

be a good role model,

and become one with the universe

to achieve peace on Earth and shit.

I killed that shit!

Oh, shit, we back up, nigga!

Who want to get they ass blowed up?

Take that, nigga!

- Hey, man, sorry about Cindy.

Real talk: I may have hung out with you

for the fish sticks in the beginning,

but then I realized you were my nig.

Shit, man, you even taught me how to pump fake.

- 'Preciate you, bruh.

If it wasn't for you,

I'd still be Butthole Brains.

This headband you gave me back in the day

changed everything, my nig.

- Ooh, that shit got worse.

- Y'all probably tight with me 'cause I'm always on time

with the comedy, right?

Or is it the stories?

Y'all know I got them stories on deck.

- Honestly, bruh, I just like the fact that you rich.

- I just love your mom's titties.

- At the end of the day, Yeezus was right.

We're all slaves,

especially when it comes to this digital madness.

This powerful tool that should be connecting the world

has made us more disconnected

than any time in history.

In a world where real emotions

have been replaced by emoticons,

who will teach the next generation to love?

- Yo, I got the tape.

- Hoagie! Come and take the hoagie!

- Damn, that's a ashy dick.

- Yeah, look like he been smashing chalkboard erasers.