Original subtitles

Ha ha ha.

One more, and I break the bank.

[beeping] Oh, dear.

[sighs] Duty calls.

Keep those warm for me... and the dice, too.

Get it? I was talking about your titties.

[laughs]

[whimpers]

[whirring] 007, there you are!

Quick, I don't have much time.

You must retrieve the secret formula.

We must get our hands on it before the Americans do.

Now -- - I know.

Find the rogue agent, infiltrate his militia,

steal the secret formula, get caught,

face impending doom, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

Exactly, James!

But if you already knew that, why have me come here?

JAMES: Merely so I can have the satisfaction...

[unzipping] Of doing this.

[urinating, laughing]

You're the man now, dawg!

[indistinct conversations]

Well, I'm afraid you've cleaned me out.

I've got no more money

unless I can give you something else, Mister...

Dynamite. Black Dynamite.

And, lady, offering Black Dynamite "something else"

is like offering the Jolly Green Giant

some frozen niblets.

Unless you got something special, Miss...

Morehead.

Givinya Morehead.

Hmmmm. How much "more head" we talkin'?

Black Dynamite, what are you doing here?

I thought you were no longer fucking

with the undercover spy honkies from the C.I.A.?

BLACK DYNAMITE: I'm not.

Right now I'm fucking with these dice.

Now if you don't mind, I got some bread to win.

- Oh! - Snake eyes.

Well, Black Dynamite, it seems that

you're halfway amazing, but all the way man.

Miss Morehead! [thud]

Have you lost your mind?!

This was my game, and she's with me.

Was with you. Your bitch chose me.

Now we can handle this like we got some class,

Or we can get into some gangster shit,

whatever-your-name-is.

It's Bond, James Bond! You bloody well remember!

Yeah, how could I forget?

You're the second Bond, James Bond I met tonight.

MAN: I say, old chap,

I am Bond, James Bond.

Fuck you, Roger Moore!

I am Bond, James Bond.

There can be only one!

[punching]

All right, ladies, Black Dynamite just got one rule.

Now, if any of y'all happen to be awake

in the morning when I'm getting dressed,

don't wake up the rest of the bitches.

? Dynamite! Dynamite ?

? He's dynamite ?

? So dynamite ?

? Ooohhh, ooohhh ?

? Ooohhh ?

? Ahhhh ?

? He's dynamite ?

? Dy-no, dy-no ?

? Ooohhh, ooohhh ?

? Oooohhhh ?

? Dynamite! Dynamite! ?

This week...

CREAM CORN: Yeah! Ha!

David Carradine's like a Chinese Chuck Norris.

Black Dynamite! How was the French Riviera?

Bond, James Bond, bitches, craps and shit.

You know, the usual.

What the fuck is that smell?

That would be me and my new

bottom-bitch barbecue recipe for this year's

annual world-championship barbecue competition!

I lost 10 years in a row.

But this year, I got something for that ass!

Here, taste it. Open up your mouth.

Taste it. Taste it. - Uh, n-no, thank you, Bee.

I already threw up earlier. Uh, hey, what y'all watching?

CREAM CORN: Only the baddest Chinese cat to ever walk the Earth

with a Black belt and some sandals.

"Kung Fu" with David Carradine!

BULLHORN: Boy, anybody would be in a world of pain

if they ever messed with motherfucking Kwai Chang Caine!

He taught me everything I know.

Just the thought of fighting him

makes my penis retract into my body.

And if anybody that can do that to my penis in my body,

they got to be the real Kung Fu master!

Now that's a bunch of bullshit!

That ain't no Kung Fu, and he ain't no Chinaman.

And it wasn't even supposed to be his slow white ass anyway.

The series was created by Bruce Lee,

but the man stole it from him and cast a cracker,

just like they did Jesus.

Now, Cream Corn, you wanna learn some real Kung Fu,

follow me.

Honey Bee, is this barbecue,

or some shit you just shat?

Either way, please take these baby back,

baby back, baby back ribs back!

? Dynamite! Dynamite! ?

Cream Corn, the time has come for you

to learn your own Kung Fu.

That way, you won't have to use

that Chinese white man's no more.

We're gonna start with some basic shit,

some self-defense that even a whore or an orphan could do.

Little orphan Penny, I need a volunteer.

Ha! You expect me to spar with lil' orphan? [ laughs]

Now, Penny, I want you to pretend

Cream Corn stole your mama.

Come on, Black Dynamite, you got to --

- Hyah! - Aaaaaah!

ALL: [gasp] - Well done, little orphan Penny.

Now, Cream Corn, the nuts are a common place

for a defenseless orphan to kick a grown-ass man.

Now, you must protect your nuts at all times,

no matter how minute or hairless they are.

Wait. Hold on a minute.

Now, everybody be cool. [sniffs]

Honey Bee, are those your ribs again

or does Black Dynamite smell trouble?

[glass shatters]

Hyah!

Suey!

Suey Suey Suey!

[machine gun fires]

Hyah!

Ahhhh sueeeyyyyy!!

[clapping]

Wha? Suey!

Black Dynamite, ha --

I see that roundhouse kick still packs a punch.

Dennis Flynn, what did Black Dynamite

tell you honkies from the CIA

about interrupting his kung fu?

Uhhhh, nothing, Black Dynamite.

You've told us not to ever interrupt your seductions,

your interrogations, and yourjumping of rope,

but never your kung fu.

That might have been someone else.

Well, from now on, add my kung fu

to the honkies from the C.I.A.'s list

of shit not to interrupt, ya dig?

Very well.

Black Dynamite, this is about 'Nam!

A.K.A. Vietnam, A.K.A. "Nahm,"

A.K.A. "Vietnahm."

Yeah, good ole Vietnams.

I remember all four of those places like it was yesterday.

The fighting, the jungle, the guns!

It was like a dream.

I can still smell the shrapnel!

CREAM CORN: That ain't shrapnu'.

I think that's Honey Bee's barbecue -- agggh!

Look, I know how much you miss Vietnam, Black Dynamite,

and we pulled the plug before you could do the impossible,

which we already know you're capable of,

but we need you, Black Dynamite.

We need you to go back to Vietnam.

PENNY: Black Dynamite, what's Vietnam?

A question a child might ask,

but not a childish question.

Still, Penny, Black Dynamite's gonna need you

to shut the fuck up when grown folks is talking, okay?

Now, Dennis Flynn, I know I thought I told you honkies

a lot of shit, but this, I know I told you.

Black Dynamite ain't fuckin' with you honkies

from the C.I.A. no more!

This isn't about the honkies

or what you told us, Black Dynamite!

It's about this!

My best friend in 'Nam, Larry Tureaud,

May his soul rest in peace.

No, he's not resting, and he's far from in peace.

In fact, he is waging his own war on the Viet Cong

out in the jungle.

That's impossible -- Larry shot himself

in his own head playing Russian roulette,

then they hung him with his own intestines

and dropped him in quicksand.

He got better.

He wasted the Charlies holding him hostage,

ate them with the help of some homemade barbecue sauce,

and now he's considered like a barbecue God

to the jungle people.

Damn, that must be some good-ass barbecue sauce.

FLYNN: We've sent honky upon honky to try to find Tureaud.

They've all come back in body bags,

limbs missing, with traces of barbecue sauce on them.

He wants to restart the Vietnam war,

and he's building his own army to do it.

Black Dynamite, only you can find him

and terminate him with extreme vengeance!

Black Dynamite don't terminate his friends.

Can you dig it?

Especially those he thought was already terminated

and then later found out they was still alive!

Well, if you don't, Black Dynamite,

the government is going to napalm the entire jungle!

And that friend of yours will be barbecued to a crisp!

Damn, Dennis Flynn, you sho' know how to twist

the arm in Black Dynamite's heart and make him say uncle.

But that don't change what I'm about to say.

I know, I know. "Scram," you say, "scram."

You're making a big mistake, Black Dynamite.

I guess this will make the second time

you left him for dead -- again.

I don't know what all that was about,

but I need to know what was in that damn barbecue sauce.

What does he mean you left him for dead?

Tureaud was like my brother from another mother.

Also with different siblings, cousins, nieces, nephews,

aunts, and uncles, et cetera, et cetera.

But he was great soldier and a friend.

Until that fateful day...

Tureaud!

SOLDIER: Should we wait for him?

Hell no! That motherfucker's dead!

Black Dynamite is going back to 'Nam to save his friend

for that reason and that reason only.

That way, I won't be technically

fuckin' with the honkies from the CIA no more.

Well, I guess we going to Vietnam then

'cause I'mma find out what was in that damn barbecue sauce.

We?! Did you say "we"?! The hell you say!

Viet and Nam? Hell and no, I won't go.

Cream Corn, get your little narrow ass into some fatigues

and stop acting like a little bitch.

I ain't acting, Honey Bee! These tears are for real!

Round up the troops and sound the alarm!

I say good night to L.A.

and go-o-o-o-o-od morning, Vietnam!

BULLHORN: ? Dah-dah-dah-dah

Dah-dah-dah-dah-dah! ?

? Da-da-da-da! ?

Man, helicopters just ain't my thing, Jack.

I keep having these horrible nightmares

where I'm in a chopper and it blows up and kills me

and Black Dynamite screams, "Cream Corn, noooo!"

Whoever said you can't die in your own dreams

is a God damn lie.

Honey Bee, I'm gonna need you to get my back and shoulders.

Now, Vietnam maybe a day at the beach for Black Dynamite,

but it could be a tsunami at the beach for y'all.

So, you got to be careful.

HONEY BEE: I know that's right.

Suey!

Aaaaaaah!

Jaah!

Sueeey!

HONEY BEE: Black Dynamite!! Black Dynamite!

Black Dynamite!! - Sorry, Bee!

I must have just been having a flashback

to this one time when my parachute wouldn't deploy --

Black Dynamite! This ain't no flashback!

No-o-o-o-o!

? Dynamite! Dynamite! ?

Oh! Now that's some shit I wish I didn't see.

No more cheese doodles for me, crunchy or puffy!

I guess when you fuck around,

you really have to fuck around.

Woman, 'til you go curved, you ain't never been served.

HONEY BEE: You need to put a cast on that little

Bald, broke dick of yours.

Hush that fuss! Y'all be cool.

You gonna give away our location.

You all right? You almost killed us with that flashback.

I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me.

In the past, I'e had nothing but pleasant dreams about 'Nam.

I don't understand what happened, but don't worry.

Everything will be just fine.

From that display, I'd say,

"and everything will not be just fine."

It looks like you got some cold-blooded jungle memories

locked way back in the back of your mind!

I hope I ain't crazy and my mind ain't lost,

but I can swear I smell some

sweet and tangy barbecue sauce!

Hmm. Tureaud must be close by.

Mmm! Oh, my lord and Buddha...

this is the best damned barbecue sauce ever!

I mean, this barbecue sauce shits all over mine!

Ooh, I think that's honey dijon!

Oh, please. What?

Y'all ain't seen nobody eat some barbecue sauce

off a skull in the jungle before?

Now listen, Honey Bee, while I'm thinking

of something to tell you that won't have you

making any sudden movements...

Don't make any sudden movements.

I got a booger in my nose or something?

Girl, you got a snake on your head!

Oh, my God, it's an anaconda!

Aah! Aaah! Aaaaaaaah!

- Aaaaaaah! - ALL: Black Dynamite!

? Dynamite! Dynamite! ?

Nothing like a good ole grenade to have handy

when you getting swallowed by a giant anaconda.

[growling] - Aah! What was that?!

Man, that don't sound like no monkey

or no jungle cat.

BD -- Black Dynamite in parentheses --

just what the hell was that?

Not a what, Bullhorn, but a who, a how, and a why.

I get the feeling we being watched.

And, Cream Corn, you gonna need to get the fuck off my back.

Um, isn't there a tunnel or something we can take?

I can't explain why,

but somehow I know we have to go this way.

Maybe I should make sure it's safe first.

Ahhhh! Ohhhh!

Tureaud!

Aaaah!

[all screaming]

Tureaud! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to leave you!

And why the fuck do you look like Cream Corn?

Damn it! Not again!

Bullhorn, Honey Bee! They're gone!

Face it, Black Dynamite, your luck with friends

in the jungles of Vietnam is pretty shitty.

Why don't we just do like the army did

and quit while we still behind?

Snap out of it, Cream Corn.

Now, I already left my best friend for dead

the first time I was here,

and I'll be damned if I lose any more!

Now, can you dig it, huh? Can you dig it?!

I'm sorry, Cream Corn, but right now,

Black Dynamite's mind is all tangled in jungle vines.

Wait, Black Dynamite, that's it.

You are having a severe anxiety disorder

that has developed after exposure to an event

that has resulted in psychological trauma.

So, you are re-experiencing trauma

with turducken through flashbacks!

You mean Tureaud.

Since you know so much shit about so much shit,

how do I get rid of these flashbacks?

The only way to overcome them

is to confront what happened to you

and learn to accept it as a part of your past.

But the pain is too much, Cream Corn.

And a real man buries his pain so nobody can see it.

If you try to numb yourself

and push your memories away, it'll just get worse.

I know you think kicking somebody's ass in the dick

is the answer to everything, Black Dynamite,

and usually it is.

But right now, you just kicking your own ass in the dick.

Sometimes, you just got to let it all out

and look like a bitch.

Works for me.

Cream Corn, thank you.

Why the fuck do you got your arms out?

Never mind. Thought we had a moment.

Now we need to find Tureaud and make things right.

And in return for me not killing you

in the midst of a flashback,

I'ma need you to do me a favor

and grow some hair on your balls.

? Dynamite! Dynamite! ?

[sniffs] Ass.

[sniffs] And barbecue.

Cream Corn, let's go see what's cookin'.

Well, if it is barbecued ass,

as hungry as I am, I'ma eat it all.

Aaah! Aaah!

Aaah!

Honey Bee, who would have ever thought

our lives would be lost in damn Vietnam

in a pot of boiling barbecue sauce?

Aaaah! Ooh.

Damn! Barbecue Honey Bee and Bullhorn

don't taste that bad.

Who would have thunk?

Damn, BD, it sure is funky inside this camel.

By the way, you know camels ain't indigenous --

Hush. We gotta free Honey Bee and Bullhorn

before they lose all they flavor.

[zipper unzips]

My name is Black Dynamite.

I'm looking for Larry Tureaud.

Also goes by Lawrence.

Have you seen him?

I said, my name is Black Dynamite!

I'm looking for Larry Tureaud.

He also goes by Lawrence! Have you seen him?!

BOY: Black Dynamite, I shouldn't tell you this,

but since you saved my life in that hut years ago --

the one with the ceiling fan and my -- my leg...

Hey, look who it is. It's Buku Sow!

I was wondering what happened to you.

I probably should've got your little Chinese legs and feet

off that ceiling fan, but you understand,

it -- it was a war, I had to go,

people were waiting on me.

It's okay, really.

And I'm not Chinese, but there's little time.

Colonel Tureaud -- Ugh!

No! Buku Sow!

[growl]

My best friend in 'Nam, Larry Tureaud?

Is that you?

Larry Tureaud died in the jungle, fool.

[growls] Call me Mr. T.

First name "Mister." Middle name period.

Last name "T"! - You look crazy as hell...

but I gotta admit, too much gold looks good on you.

It's the people meat!

Unlike pork, chicken, and other animal

and vegetable proteins your body can't use,

people provide essential proteins

that are beneficial to people 'cause...

well, they're people.

But I must admit, the white meat is a little dry.

Mr. T., I don't care how nutritious people are.

You can't go around barbecuing humans like they chicken.

But they taste like chicken, fool!

Really? I mean, I heard that frog's legs taste like chicken

but, uh, I didn't -- but that's beside the point.

Now, I know these jungles done drove you crazy

ever since I left you behind,

but I need to apologize so I can stop having these flashbacks.

Left me behind? I stayed behind, fool!

What you talking 'bout, Mr. T?

You soldiers gone soft!

America gone soft, so I got harder!

They killed our whole team except for me and you, BD!

But the war never ended for Mr. T! Hmmm!

Look, If I don't get your ass out of here tonight,

the government's gonna barbecue this whole jungle.

Can you dig --

Enough with this jibber-jabber! Mr. T ain't going nowhere.

Either you with T, or you against T.

Now, what's it gonna be, Black Dynamite?

[helicopter blades whirring]

What the hell you do that for'? I was tasting good!

Ha! There they are!

My two best soldiers together again!

Dennis Flynn, what are you doing here?

The real reason why I needed to find you, Tureaud --

First name "Mister," middle name period,

last name - Ehh, yeah.

...Was so I could get my hands

on that sweet and tangy barbecue sauce of his.

Hell, it was so good I couldn't wait

'til the honkies from the CIA came back

dead and dipped in it.

I would lick it right off their skulls.

I told y'all it was good.

With your sauce and my thievery,

I'm a sure shot for this year's championship

barbecue competition.

Wait. You brought my ass back

to the Chinese jungles of Vietnam

for some damn barbecue sauce?

I mean, why the hell else would the CIA spend

all these resources to find a crazy Negro soldier

In the jungle eating barbecue-covered

Vietnamese villagers?

Dennis Flynn, you backstabbin', manipulatin',

Barbecue boostin' motherfucker!

You set us up! - I pity the fool that tries...

to take Mr. T's tangy barbecue recipe away from Mr. T!

Come on, Black Dynamite, for ole time's sake,

let's give this honky from the CIA a flashback

his ass will never forget! Hmm!

Kill them all!

Aaah! Titty technique.

Nipple in your eye!

Black Dynamite, you the man.

I mean -- I mean, we all men,

but we all can't man up.

Maybe I can, but maybe I can't.

Cream Corn! Unh!

If Black Dynamite can face his fears,

then I guess I can put some hair on my balls.

Aaaah!

Just like old times, Black Dynamite.

Just like old times.

Oh, my goodness, guys! Y'all are alive!

And my van's alive, too!

Yeah. When we found out BD came to find you,

we figured we'd kill two birds, ya dig?

We're gonna travel the world as mercenaries

who give wrong-doers just really minor injuries.

Whaddaya say fellas -- join us?

I don't know, Hannibal.

All your jibber-jabber sounds really good and all,

but I don't think America has a place

for a growling Black man with a Mandinka haircut,

feathers in his ears, a neck full of gold,

camo shorts, and tube socks up to his knees.

I ain't the same, Black Dynamite.

I've changed.

Well, lucky for you, America's changed, too, Mr. T.

Black alpha males have a voice now.

Jim Brown and Muhammad Ali are role models

who don't take shit from the man.

Hell, George Clinton got the hottest band in the country

and he even dresses even worse than you.

Think of it like this --

if you ever get a hankering for barbecued villagers,

you always got an exotic getaway to come back to.

Mmm, mmm. And if you market that barbecue sauce of yours,

you'll make millions.

I almost didn't mind being cooked in it.

I love cooking people, but I guess I can try

cooking for people instead, Honey Bee.

Hannibal, let's get one thing straight --

ain't no way I'm flying.

Let's take my van, and I'm driving, fool!

I love it when a plan comes together.

Mr T., all the crates!

All of the barbecue sauce is gone!

[helicopter blades whirring]

Thank you, Black Dynamite

for leading us to Mr. T.'s secret recipe.

And it seems we may have awakened

the rest of your bitches!

[laughter]

Later, baby.

Damn it, James Bondses!

Stay in your own damn franchise!

Look, Black Dynamite!

Lo and behold, I grew one!

I'ma put this under my pillow for the hairy fairy.

? Dynamite! Dynamite! ?

Repair and Synchronization by Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0