All language subtitles for Black Dynamite s01e07 Apocalypse, This.eng

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! ?

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