All language subtitles for Everybody Hates Back Talk

Bye.
Bye.

CHRIS ROCK:
When you're a kid,

one of the most important
lessons you learn

is when your parents tell you
to do something...

Y'all better eat that liver.

Yes, ma'am.
Yes, ma'am.

...you do it...

...no matter what you think...

Boy, get your feet
off my good chair.

Yes, ma'am.

...no matter what it is.

Girl, are you crazy?!

You want to cook your
brother, do it outside.

Yes, ma'am.

(muffled yelling)

No matter how you feel.

Chris, clear off the table
and do the dishes.

(both laughing)

No.

(tires screeching,
crashing sounds)

(all gasp)

What?

Will I say what I said again?

Will my mother kill me

before I get a chance
to say it?

Are Drew and Tonya gonna sit
there and just let this happen?

Don't touch that dial.

* Aw, make if funky now.

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After saying no to my mother
for the first time,

I didn't know what to expect.

What did you say?

I said no.

Twice.

That's what I thought you said.

Now say it again.

Mom, I didn't eat all the dinner
by myself.

I shouldn't have to clean it
all up by myself.

I don't wear all the clothes,
but I wash them by myself.

I don't sleep
in all the beds
in this house,

but I make them up by myself.

I don't pee
in all of the toilets

in this house
by myself...!

Mom, Drew and Tonya
sitting right there

doing nothing.
Why can't they help?

Because I told you to do it.

Now I don't want to hear
no more back talk.

Now clean this mess up.

No. I'm not gonna do it.

Lord... please help me before
I knock this boy's neck off.

Eight...

nine...

t-ten!

I wouldn't see a woman
that perplexed again

until Palin found out
her daughter was knocked up.

Now are you gonna clean up
this table

or do I need to tell
your father?

Whenever there was a problem
my mother couldn't handle,

she'd call my father
for backup,

like the governor bringing in
the National Guard.

Ow!

What's the situation?!

Chris won't do
what I told him.

You want me to do some dishes?!

I'll do some dishes!

(screaming wildly)

I'll handle this.

Oh! That was my...

(launcher beeps)

Yes!

(crowd cheering)

You know what?

Go ahead. Tell him.

I don't care.

Fine.

Drew, Tonya,
come clean this table up

and wash the dishes.

BOTH:
Yes, ma'am.

I enjoyed time with my father,

but I was afraid
this might be the last time.

Where have you been?

I stopped to get coffee.

With his coffee coupon.

Oh, coffee.
Oh, yeah, that-that's nice.

Well, while you were out
taking your time

sipping on coffee,

uh, your son was here
staging a coup!

A coup?

What? Who, Drew?

Chris!

I spent 20 hours of labor
pushing out that big-eared boy,

and he turns around
and does this to me?!

Does what? What did he do?

What did he do? Oh, what?
You're on his side now?!

No, no, I'm just trying
to find out what's going on.

Oh, what's going on,
what's going on.

Let me think about
what's going on.

Your son is trying to kill me.

That's what's
going on!

I-I cook, I clean, I care

for this family,
and what do I get in return?

Just a full-scale mutiny!

Led by a child

who I bore for a man

who's supposed to love and honor
and protect me!

You know,

I thought we were all
in this together,

but you know what?

I'm finding out now
that I'm just by myself!

Rochelle, what did he do?

I told Chris to wash the dishes.

And he told me, "No."

And what do you do?

Nothing!

While my father was trying
to figure out what to do,

I was starting to realize
what I had done.

What are you doing
here so early?

It's a long story.

Why you here?

I'm always here
for breakfast.

So what happened?

I talked back to my mother;
she's telling my father;

and I had to get out the house
before he got home.

What were you thinking?

She's always
making me do work

while Drew and Tonya sit around
like it's a hotel.

I mean, why do I have to be
a maid? Do I look French?

Do I have on a black skirt
with a white apron?

That's a whole other type
of maid.

You're a fool.
Mothers do have limits.

I mean, there's only so much
they can take.

You know, one day you just
refuse to do the housework,

and then the next day
you wake up,

and there's some Italian lady
naked in your kitchen

at midnight eating
all your spumoni ice cream,

and your dad comes out
and he's, like,

"Hey, just, you know,
go back to bed.

Forget all about it, Greg."

Well, after my dad
knocks my brains out,

I won't have to worry
about remembering anything.

While I was trying to savor
my last day of life,

Mr. Omar was trying
to savor a last meal.

So, the next thing I know,
the doctors call

and say I've gone
from a clean bill of health

to who knows how much time
left to live.

(laughs)

BOTH:
Tragic.

You see, most people are
decapitated by flying hubcaps.

(laughs)

Or fall down a flight of steps

and get strangled
between banister rails.

So knowing when I'm gonna die
allows me to make the most

of my remaining days
and get my affairs in order.

And he doesn't mean
business affairs.

So from now on,
I'm gonna do the things

I want to do
and say the things

I want to say without worrying
about the consequences.

(door shuts)

Hey, Mr. Omar.

Oh, hey, Mr. Julius.

Unfortunately, I'm here
to give my 19-day notice.

You moving out?

Mm, no, more like moving on.

Where you going?

Well, that's the great mystery
of life,

isn't it, Mr. Julius?

Where do we go when we die?

Dying? Mr. Omar,
that's terrible.

Oh, no, it's not.

'Cause for the next 19 days,
I'm gonna be living it up!

Pass me the meatballs.

Okay.

Whoa-whoa-whoa,
where's Chris?

Chris said he had to work late.

Good, then he'll be home soon.

Julius,

your son is trying to kill me.

Go find him and stop him.

With my father on the way
to Doc's,

I was a dead man working.

(shrieks)

We need to talk.

I just need
to understand

why you would talk
to your mother like that.

Dad, Drew and Tonya
were sitting down watching TV,

and I'm the only one
Mom said to go clean up.

It's just not fair.

You raised me to stand up
for myself,

so why do I get in trouble
when I do it at home?

Look, Chris, you might
win the battle,

but you're gonna
lose the war.

Sometimes it's not
about just being right.

Hey, look,

you need to apologize
to your mother.

Why?

Because she will make
your life miserable.

You know how many times
I've been right

and still had
to apologize?

469,531 times.

And counting.

How is that even possible?

Because she doesn't care.

It doesn't make any sense.

Exactly.

Look, that's the #1 rule

of living with women:
nothing makes sense.

When you learn this,

then you'll finally understand
what it is to be a man.

Wrong or right, you
still have to be sorry.

I had survived the walk home.

Now all I had to do
was apologize,

and my life would go back
to normal.

So did you
talk to him?

I talked to him.

Good.

Chris, clean up the table
and do the dishes.

No.

Well, it's been nice
knowing you, America.

CHRIS ROCK:
I had put my foot down.

But unfortunately,
it was into my own grave.

So I thought
you talked to him?

I did.

And he's got a point.

What?!

Why should Drew and Tonya
watch TV

while Chris cleans up
their mess?

I do not have to explain
to him why I do

the things
that I do.

If I want him to do something

that I don't want
the other kids to do,

I probably have a good reason!

And do you have a good reason?
No.

But that doesn't matter!

He's growing up, Rochelle.

If you ask him to do something
that seems unfair,

he's gonna
want to know why.

You wanted a strong-minded kid,
well, you got one.

Oh.

Okay, I-I see.

Oh, if he wants to be grown,

then he's grown.

Fine.

How come when a woman
says "fine,"

it's never actually fine?

First thing in the morning,

my mother did
the meanest thing yet: nothing.

Why didn't you wake me up?
I'm late for school.

You're grown.
Wake yourself up.

You don't want to
do nothing for me,

I ain't doing
nothing for you.

And she didn't.

She didn't do my laundry.

Where are my underwear?

You're grown.
Wash your own drawers.

She didn't make my meals.

Where's my breakfast?

You're grown.

You can cook your own food.

While my mother was teaching me
a lesson about life,

Mr. Omar was giving out
lessons about death.

And I also will take that helmet
and those death darts.

That's a Crock-Pot
and pens, man.

Not in the jungle,
it's not.

You know, I can make

a hand grenade out of a can
of Cheez Whiz and a dress sock.

Well, you need to use it
to blow your own brains out.

Don't they have centers
for people like you?

Bye.

Excuse me.

Hey, Monk.
Hey, Julius.

Hey, aloha,
Mr. Julius.

You can't have all these people
in the hallway.

What you gonna do about it?

I'm dying.

Mr. Omar, these people
are turning my house

into a fire hazard.

Well, with all that asbestos

in the walls and ceiling,

you ain't got to worry
about no fire.

It's the asthma
that's gonna kill you.

Excuse me?
You're cheap!

You're a bald-headed,

penny-pinching skinflint.

Watch yourself, Mr. Omar.

What's to watch?! I'm dying.

While my father was thinking
about breaking a lamp

over Mr. Omar's head,

I was trying not to break down.

Dude, you look terrible.

I know. It was
a rough morning.

Mom decided she's not gonna
do anything for me anymore.

Barely made it
to school.

If you back down now, you'll
miss the one chance you have

to make sure
your voice is heard.
I know.

All I have to do is stick it out
just a little bit longer.

She's been mad at me before,
and she'll be mad at me again.

What's she gonna do,

not be my mother anymore?

(woman speaking
indistinctly over P.A.)

I'd like to return
this child.

Do you have the receipt?

Sure do.

Looks good.

Take this to the cashier
for your refund.

Thank you.

I was trying to become
my own person,

but my mother still thought
she owned me.

What you think
you're doing?

I'm making breakfast.

With my eggs?

No, I bought the eggs,
and I bought the bacon.

Oh.

(chuckles)

Well, you ain't
buy that skillet.

You ain't buy that fire.

You ain't buy that spatula.
You ain't buy that plate.

Next time, I'll remember
to buy a paper plate.

Ooh! Next time?

Oh, next...? "Oh, next time,
I'll remember to buy a paper..."

No, next time,

you need to remember
this ain't your kitchen!

This ain't your stove.
This ain't your floor.

Those ain't your
frozen gizzards.

That ain't your...!
You say none of this is mine,

maybe I should find
someplace else to be.

Uh-oh!

Did y'all see that?

I guess he
jumping bad now.

You bad!
I guess you Shaft!

You's a bad mother...

Shut your mouth! No.

Since you're so independent,
so liberated,

maybe you need to go live
in the Statue of Liberty.

Fine.

I'm leaving.

I stood my ground,

and now I was gonna be
standing out on the street.

CHRIS ROCK:
I left the house
before my mother

asked for her suitcase back.

Just say you're sorry.

What for?

Because you just got kicked out.

Look, I don't care, all right?

It's better than doing
everyone else's work.

If you had been
cleaning up after me

for the past ten years,
you'd know how I felt.

How you gonna eat?

I-I got a job.

Where you gonna stay?

I'll find a place.

Will you quit being stupid,

and go clean the kitchen
like Mama told you?

Look, if you want it clean
so bad, you go do it.

So you're really leaving?

Yeah.

Well, can I have your radio?

Fine.

Good luck, Chris.

ROCHELLE:
Yeah, since
this morning.

I mean, you know,
it's not a big deal,

but if Chris calls,
can you let me know?

Okay.

Thanks, Doc.

Why is this table such a mess?

Somebody fired the maid.

'Cause I'm not gonna
clean it up.

They're not gonna
clean it up.

When I find him,
Chris is gonna

clean it up.
When you find him?

Chris and Mom got
into another fight.

And she threw him
out of the house.

What do you mean,
you threw him out?

I may have implied

that since he was
so self-sufficient,

that maybe he should live
someplace else.

And then he left.

You telling me
you kicked our son out

because he didn't
do the dishes?

Exactly.

Not exactly.

But it's the principle, Julius!

Do you know what the words

"too far" mean?

Actually, she didn't.

You're cutting the boy's arm off

for sticking his finger
in the fan.

What?

Cutting off his arm?

I don't get it.

So am I the fan?

I'm pretty sure
Chris is the arm.

No, I think
the arm is the arm.

Chris is the boy.
Yeah, Chris is the boy.

Look, sticking his finger
in the fan

is just the equivalent
of doing something stupid.

Like talking
back to Mom.
Right.

So cutting the arm off is
kicking him out of the house?

Exactly.
So if he stuck

his finger in the fan,
and I didn't like it,

cutting his arm off
so he wouldn't do it again

wouldn't help.
Wouldn't help.

Oh.
Oh.

Got it.

I'm-I'm gonna go find Chris.

It's Saturday.
He probably just went

someplace in the neighborhood
to cool off.

Hopefully, not under a fan.

While my dad was talking sense
into his woman,

a woman was talking
some sense into me.

Boy, are you crazy?

You are lucky she
just threw you out.

But, V...
Chris, you challenged
her authority.

You left her no choice.

So if me or Tonya say no,

are you just gonna
kick us out, too?

Yes!
No.

I didn't kick him out, Drew.

He left.

After you kicked him out.

He only left
because you told him

to go live in
the Statue of Liberty.

CHRIS:
Okay, how am I

supposed to talk to her if she
won't listen to anything I say?

Chris, you are a child.

Parents don't negotiate

with children.

Even though I hate Chris,

I still wish
he would come back home.

I don't want him

to get stabbed
or shot

or turned out
or hooked on drugs.

Your brother is not
gonna get hooked on drugs.

Actually, he probably will.

Runaways tend to fall into

dangerous situations
pretty quickly.

And drugs and alcohol
provide a sedative

to the trauma and isolation.

Chris, you need to go

back home.

Why? It's just gonna
happen again.

What if he doesn't
come back?

If he does,

it's just gonna happen again.

You know, if it was me
and it was my kid,

I think I would've
thought of

a different way
to say what I said,

so that my kid still
learned his lesson

while keeping
our family together.

VANESSA:
It's dishes!

You're acting like she told you

to bring down
the mob!

Actually, the mob was

slightly less vindictive
than my mother.

Hey, Vanessa.

Chris, let's go.

While me and my mother

were still bent out of shape,

Mr. Omar was about
to straighten something out.

Oh, hey, Mr. Julius!

Chris, go upstairs.

And don't say anything to
your mother till I get up there.

I don't want her
throwing you out again.

(chuckles)

Hey, Chris!

What?

Um, I was wondering
had you rented my apartment yet.

You forgot to say,
"bald-headed skinflint."

Yeah.

About that: I just wanted
to say I'm very sorry.

Whatever.

What difference is it to you

whether I rented
the place anyway?

Won't you be dead?

Uh, no, no.

Uh, turned out,

there was a mistake.

I got Mr. Watkins' prognosis,
and he got mine.

Who is Mr. Watkins?

He's the guy that's dying

instead of me.

(laughs)

Yeah, misdiagnosed
with a terminal condition

by a doctor
with a nearsighted nurse.

Tragic. Tragic!

Well... I guess
that's good news.

Uh, look, look, look,
Mr., Mr. Julius,

Mr. Julius.

I was speaking my mind,

but my mind
wasn't in the right place.

So you don't think
I'm a bald-headed...

(screams)

Don't say it!

Don't you ever say that.

You're a good man, Mr. Julius.

Mr. Omar,

next time you think
you're dying,

before you start calling
people names, be sure.

Rent's due on the first.

(chuckles)

Hallelujah!

All right, first of all,

in the future, no kid gets
thrown out of the house

unless we both throw them out.

Second,

your mother's in charge.

When she tells you
to do something, you do it.

You got it?

I'm talking to everybody here.

Now, do we all understand?

ALL:
Yes.

Good.

Chris, apologize to your mother.

I'm sorry.

JULIUS:
Sorry for what?

Mom, I'm sorry
for being disrespectful

and talking back to you.

JULIUS:
Good.

Rochelle?

Rochelle.

(sighs)

Chris, I'm sorry
for being unreasonable.

I know I was unfair.

JULIUS:
Okay.

This is over and done.

Chris, give your mother a hug.

I'm sorry, baby.

I love you.

I'm sorry, too, Mom.

JULIUS:
Great.

Drew, Tonya, go watch TV.

Chris, clean this mess up.

Yeah, baby!

* Everybody hates Chris.

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Media Access Group at WGBH
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