01x08 - The Real

[bunniefuu]

JAZMINE:
He knows when you been sleeping!

MAN: All right.
WOMAN: Amen.

JAZMINE:
He knows when you're awake!

He knows if you've
been bad or good,

so be good for what?

PEOPLE:
Goodness sake.

Think about that.

Be good for goodness sake.

Yes.

Whose sake?

CHOIR:
Goodness sake.

MAN :
Speak, sister, speak!

And put 'em in your mouth.

Somebody say "ho, ho, ho."

ALL:
Ho, ho, ho!

Nowadays,
people think "ho, ho, ho,"

means the Hilton sisters...

standing next to Nicole Richie.

Now, that ain't no "ho, ho, ho."

Somebody give me the real
"ho, ho, ho," out there.

ALL:
Ho, ho, ho!

Praise Santa!

FedEx, UPS.

They can ship the package.

MAN:
Hold on!

I know a man
with a different kind

of guaranteed
overnight delivery.

He's got his own
overnight express.

Forget Airborne Express.

I'll take the reindeer express.

'Cause it's free shipping
on Christmas Eve.

Somebody say...

ALL:
Ho, ho, ho!

Praise Santa.

CHOIR:

Praise Santa.

: Ladies and gentlemen,

from the North Pole,

may we present Santa Claus.

Merry Christmas, kids.

Hi, everybody. Hi.

Ho, ho, ho.

GIRL:
Santa!

SANTA:
What a jolly day.

GIRL :
I love you, Santa!

Hi, Santa!

Hey, Merry Christ--

ALL:
Santa!

Yeah, I got your ass, Santa!

RILEY:
I'm comin' for that ass!

Punk yo ass!

Uh-oh.

GIRL :
He's k*lling him!

What the f*ck?

You all just gonna stand there
and watch me get my ass kicked?

Nobody had my back, huh?

Nobody's got Santa's back?
Ain't this a bitch.

That's f*cked up with y'all.

GIRL :
Santa said the F-word!

WOMAN:
Even Santa gets angry sometimes.

MAN:
And the sixth day of Kwanzaa

is Kuji--

Ku-- Uh, uh-- Ku--

Wow, this is really complicated.

The sixth day is...

Er, uh... Kuumba.

Kuuuuumbaaaa.

HUEY: Harold Kennedy Uberwitz

was my history teacher.

He was culturally sensitive.

And on Kuumbay--
Uh, Kuumba--

Uh, the elder--
Okay, that would be me.

--leads everyone
in the Harambee salute.

And that goes like:

Harambee!

Okay, great.

So who wants to join me
in the Harambee salute?

Anyone? Huey?

You sure?

It's Kwanzaa.

Okay, no problem.
Here we go.

Harambee!

Harambee!

Harambee!

Harambee!

Harambee!

Harambee!

Harambee!

Harambee!

Harambee!

HUEY:
You want me to direct

the Christmas play?

UBERWITZ:
Absolutely. I-I think

you'll do a fantastic job.

First of all, I don't
give a damn about Christmas.

You don't have to do
a traditional Christmas play.

No, you can do
whatever you want.

You'll be fired.

Fired? For what?

For being an irresponsible
white person.

I would really love
to see your vision.

Vision? What do you know
about my vision?

My vision would turn
your world upside-down,

tear asunder
your illusions,

and send the sanctuary
of your own ignorance

crashing down around you.

Now, ask yourself:

Are you really ready
to see that vision?

We'll give you complete
creative control.

I want it in writing.

: And suddenly,

there was with the angel--

GRANDDAD:
A multitude of the heavenly

host, praising God,

and saying, "Glory to God
in the highest and on Earth,

peace, goodwill toward men."

And that's what Christmas is all about.

Mm-hm.

You hear that, boy?

That's what Christmas
is all about.

Actually, Granddad,
Christmas is a pagan holiday.

And Jesus probably hates you
for celebrating it.

There ain't gonna be no Scrooges
in this house, boy!

Look, Granddad,
it's clear from the scripture

that Jesus was not born
in winter.

The shepherds, who saw
the angels announcing his birth,

would not have been out
in their fields in December.

The Palestinian winters
are too cold.

If you believe
in that sort of thing.

The truth is, Christmas evolved

from the Roman holiday Saturnalia,

a winter festival where men gave gifts to each other.

They also would get drunk,

have sex with each other and b*at their wives.

People would act so crazy on Christmas,

the holiday was outlawed by the Protestant church

until the s.

As a matter of fact,
the United States Congress...

Granddad?
Granddad!

I'm sorry, boy.
Wh-wh-what was that?

I just explained
the entire history of Christmas.

But it was booooring, Huey.

You just, "Blah, blah, gay sex.
Blah, blah, Congress."

You know,
you gotta be interesting.

You're gonna talk me to death.
Talk, talk, talk.

HUEY: And that's when it hit me.

The world needed to see my vision.

But I needed to dress it up first.

It needed scale and drama and special effects.

What are you doing?

I'm writing a letter
to Santa.

"Dear Santa.

You are a bitch n*gga--"

Wait, wait, wait. Hold up, hold up, hold up.

"Dear Santa.

"You are a bitch ass n*gga.

"I heard the mall is hiring extra security to protect you.

"That's a bitch move, Santa.

"I'm coming for that ass again until you pay what you owe.

"Sincerely yours,

the Santa Stalker."

JAZMINE:
I think you should do a play

about what Christmas
is really about.

Christmas is about how Santa
d*ed for our gifts

and rose from the dead
and moved to the North Pole.

And because of that,
every year,

Santa comes down
to forgive us our sins

and give us
eternal presents.

Man, Santa these nuts!

Where was Santa
when we was in the 'hood, huh?

Santa ain't show a n*gga
no love back then.

I didn't ask for much.
Just rims. Not even a whole car.

And what did we get? Nothin'.

That n*gga gonna pay
what he owe.

Merry Christmas,
Mr. Uberwitz.

Are you here
to see Mr. Freeman?

Uh...

yeah.

One second.
Mr. Uberwitz is here.

Okay. He's just finishing up
another meeting.

You can have a seat
in the hallway.

Can I get you anything?

Some water?

No, I'm fine. Thank you.

Huey?

Oh, hey, Mr. Uberwitz.
This is Quincy Jones.

I've asked him to come in
and co-produce.

How are you, man?

I-I-I'm good. How do--?
How do you know Huey?

Oh, me and Huey
go way back.

And by the way,

I hope you're not
gonna be getting strange

with the change
on the music budget.

Music budget?

What the--?

ALL:
Hey!

Have y'all lost
your damn minds?

Opening night is less
than two weeks away,

and y'all wanna party?

We're just having
some fun.

Fun? Do I look
like Charlie Brown?

BOY:
No.

Do I look like Charlie Brown?

You know what?
All y'all are fired!

What?
Fired?

Did I stutter?
b*at it!

UBERWITZ:
Huey--

But i-it...
It's the entire cast.

Are you sure
that's a good idea?

Contract.

I'm...sorry, guys.

GIRL:
I can't believe it.

Hey, don't be
lookin' at me.

Don't look
at Quincy Jones.

Quincy Jones
ain't gonna help you.

Get your asses out. Now!

Is there any money in the budget
for a casting director?

That's right, Bob.

A little bit
of the Christmas spirit

is returning
to Woodcrest,

as Santa Claus makes
his first appearance

since being assaulted
by the unknown,

but probably Arab,
Santa Stalker, one week ago.

And you're gonna
protect me, right?

Now, don't you worry about
a thing, Mr. Santa Claus, sir.

I got you covered.

RUCKUS:
Now, I know

I'm a very large man,

but I'm a picture
of athleticism.

Well, hello there.

And what would you like Santa
to bring you for Christmas?

I want a--

Uh, Santa, you got
a red dot on your head.

Nooooooooo!

Ow! g*dd*mn!

That had to pierce
a spleen or somethin'.

MAN: God! Medic! Medic!

Merry Christmas, n*gga!

Aah! Santa, why?

GIRL:
You ruined

my childhood!

You gonna pay
what you owe, Santa!

You gonna pay what you owe!

RILEY:
Running like a bitch.

Backup. I need backup.

I'm fat.
I can't run very fast.

I think I'm having
a heart att*ck

and a couple of light strokes.

Merry Christmas, n*gga.

Damn.

HUEY:
Okay, now...

for the role
of the third wise man,

we have Mr. Fogelbury
or Denzel Washington.

I say, Denzel.

Yeah, me too.

Okay, and for the role of Mary,

we have third-grade
science teacher,

Mrs. Peterson
or Angela Bassett.

Well, Mrs. Peterson gave
a serious read.

Yeah, she sure did.

But I say,
Angela Bassett.

Yeah, me too.

Guys, how do we afford

Denzel Washington
and Angela Bassett?

I don't know.

Have we gotten word yet
on Will Smith's availability?

W-whoa, whoa, whoa.
we can't afford Will Smith.

Damn the budget!

What we're doing is
more important than money.

We will change Christmas

and elementary-school theater
forever.

But we don't have
the money.

Contract.

JAZMINE:
Oh, Huey.

You've got a lunch meeting
at :

about the sound effects
for the dogfight sequence.

Cancel it.

The PTA is threatening
a boycott of the play

since you fired
all the kids.

Don't care.

And the principal's
in your office

to talk about the script.

Who?

First of all,

I just wanted you to know
we're thrilled with the script.

Absolutely
fantastic.

Brilliant.

Wouldn't change a thing.

We just had a couple of notes.

One or two.

Nothing significant.

PRINCIPAL:
Let's see, uh, there's a typo

on page five.

Uh, there's a continuity problem
on page .

I think that scene's
supposed to be at night.

Um, let's see, um--
Oh, yeah, um, and, uh--

Jesus can't be black.

What do you mean
he can't be black?

He can't be black.

Maybe we can make Jesus
another color.

How 'bout white?

But Jesus was black.

We could probably do Italian.

Jesus was Middle Eastern.

In addition to Arabs,

the Middle East has always had
many people of African descent,

whom you would consider black.

Sorry, can't do it.

Oh, right. That.

Best of luck.

Break a leg.

I can't wait
for opening night.

Riley?
Jazmine.

Riley, you came
to see Santa.

Shh!

: Ladies and gentlemen,

from the North Pole,

the reeeeal Santa Claus!

What the hell?

Hey, there,
pretty little white children.

Now, look at all them precious
little vanilla-colored faces.

I heard this was the only guy
they could find to do it.

Now, I know y'all
think old Santa Claus

look a little bit darker
than he used to.

Ho, ho!

But see, that's
just 'cause Santa Claus

got a little bit
of re-vitiligo.

See, that's the opposite
of what Michael Jackson got.

Don't worry,
no Jesus juice up here.

Come on, let's get
this show on the road.

That's not Santa!

Okay, who's first?

That's not Santa.
It's an impostor!

Beware of the false Santa!

Kids, kids, calm down.

Accompanying parents,
calm down as well.

I am the real Santa Claus.

Ho, ho, ho.
Look at my belly shake.

The heartbreaker re-vitiligo

is a very serious
life-threatening condition.

Hey, I've been in show business
a long time, Huey.

This kind of thing comes
with the territory.

I know you'll do
the right thing.

UBERWITZ:
Huey, it could still be

a great play.

We could cut a few scenes.
Make some changes to the script.

Huey.

We have
to put something on.

Do what you have to do.

Just take my name off of it.

Won't be my vision.

Hello.

Yeah. Yeah, it's resolved.

We'll be ready to put
the play on tomorrow.

Why doesn't
the real Santa come?

'Cause there ain't
no real Santa.

HUEY: We all want to believe

in miracles on Christmas.

All of us.

RUCKUS:
No Santa Claus?

Well, I'd expect
a heathen nigglet like Riley

to say something like that.

But, Jazmine,
I'm surprised at you.

Being a mulatto and all,

you've supposed
to have more sense.

Huh?

I'm Special Agent Ruckus.

Shh!

Volunteer Santa Security.

Santa has reason to believe

that your little
jungle friend Riley

may be the Santa Stalker.

That makes perfect sense.

Mm-hm. Santa couldn't
come this year.

Just wasn't safe.

Maybe next year.

So...he's real?

Real as the Irish blood
charging through my veins.

HUEY: But Christmas miracles

only happen

in the lies adults tell to children.

And maybe in Christmas specials.

Mr. Uberwitz put on the play as scheduled.

Not a single word was changed.

And so, by some miracle,

the world saw my vision that night.

The Adventures of Black Jesus

received a -minute standing ovation.

It was called "a stunning revolution in theatre"

by the Woodcrest Post Gazette.

Unfortunately, the PTA protest had gained some ground.

Seems that people didn't care about my vision.

They cared about seeing their kids on stage.

Who knew?

JAZMINE:
Yay, Huey!

Yay!

Mr. Uberwitz was fired for disobeying orders

and for generally being an irresponsible white person.

UBERWITZ: Harambee!

ALL: Harambee!

Harambee!

ALL: Harambee!

HUEY: ■ He would later become

a professor

of African American Studies at the University of Maryland.

No video exists of the one-time-only performance

of The Adventures
of Black Jesus.

Just as well. I hate looking at my old work.

Ahhh!

I heard you work for Santa.

I got a message for him.

Tell him Riley said,

I'll be waiting for his ass
next Christmas.

And that n*gga better pay
what he owe!

Ow!