Myles: Mom, why is my nephew here?
Viola: You just adopted a baby boy.
Dylan: I'm Dylan. What up?
I'm from the harsh streets of Chicago.
I was on that block.
Viola: This child has never had a home.
He would be happy here.
Dylan: This house is dope, man!
Know what I'm sayin'?
Yasmine: Is this English?
Myles: Sounds like... [babbles]
Charlie: I think I need to Google this.
Dylan: We got work to do. I'm gonna help you.
Charlie: What are you doing?
Myles: He's only . How bad could it be?
Dylan: So let me tell you where babies come from.
Rebecca: Mom!
Dylan: I'm taking the top bunk.
I'm a top dog in this dog-eat-dog world.
You're just a squirrel.
Dylan: A'ight. You ready, Chuckles?
Charlie: I don't know.
There's no way she's going to say yes.
Dylan: Pshh! That's why we got a plan, man.
I'll go in strong. You get my back with the hype.
All you got to say is, "Yeah!"
Yeah?
Charlie: Ok.
Dylan: Say it with that chest. Yeah!
[deep voice] Charlie: Yeah!
Dylan: That's what I'm talkin' about.
A'ight. You ready? Let's go.
Dylan: Yo, Auntie Yas,
can I rap to you real quick?
Yasmine: Dylan, I don't really have time for a rap right now.
Dylan: What? No.
I'm just sayin', me and Charlie have some demands.
That new movie "Bad Boys " is out today,
and we tryin' to see it.
[deep voice] Charlie: Yeah!
Yasmine: Isn't that rated "R"?
Charlie: Yeah, I'm pretty sure--
Dylan: That doesn't matter.
I've been waiting, like, years for this sequel.
Yasmine: You haven't even been alive that long.
[deep voice] Charlie: Yeah!
Dylan: Bro, which side is you hypin'?
Charlie: Sorry. I got excited.
Dylan: It's all good, little dude.
You just got to ease up, a'ight?
So?
Yasmine: So?
Dylan: You're gonna say no, aren't you?
[deep voice] Yasmine: Yeah!
Myles: * Good morning
Yasmine: Oh, there you are.
Myles: Hey. Yasmine: I'm late. I got to go.
The caterers are gonna be here in a couple hours.
You can handle them, right?
Myles: 'Course. What caterers?
Yasmine: You're joking.
Myles: Am I?
Yasmine: You better be,
because if you forgot that my boss
and the entire office are going to be here tonight,
celebrating your amazing wife getting an award,
I'll k*ll you, right, Charlie?
[deep voice] Charlie: Yeah!
Myles: Heh heh heh heh! Honey,
of course I remember.
Yasmine: Mm-hmm. Good.
Then you also remember that you volunteered
to give a speech about me.
Myles: Honey, uh, yes, I remembered.
Yasmine: Well, I look forward to hearing that
well-thought-out speech that I am sure you already wrote.
Myles: Mm-hmm. Let me tell you something,
you're going to love it.
You're gonna love it! Ha!
Think she bought it?
Charlie: Yeah, Dad. You totally fooled her.
* There once was a kid from the city of Chi *
* Ma knew I was important, not a regular guy *
* Everybody follow me, I'mma take you on a trip *
* Buckle up, let's go, I'mma getchu all hip *
* I'm a star came up from a block in Chi-town *
* Livin' large I'm tryna balance *
* School and these bars
* Came far
* Ain't no better feelin'
* I tell 'em, "You gon' love Young Dylan" *
* Young Dylan Singer: * Ay! Young Dylan! *
Dylan: * Young Dylan Singer: * Ay! Young Dylan!
Dylan: * I tell 'em, "you gon' love Young Dylan" *
[Dylan grumbles]
Mmm.
[Charlie and Dylan laughing]
Dylan: There you go, Pop. Now, that's funny.
Charlie: Yeah, Dad. That's a great joke.
Myles: It's not supposed to be a joke.
Dylan: Oh. Well, then, it's not very funny.
Charlie: And it's a little mean.
Myles: Would you two find something to do?
I mean, I'm having a hard enough time writing
this speech for your mother's thing tonight
without you two sitting on my shoulders.
Dylan: Word.
Well, I--I guess we could-- Heh heh!--
I don't know, watch a movie or something.
Myles: Yeah, yeah, do that.
Dylan: A'ight, bet, so you don't mind
if we watch, um, I don't know, "Bad Bros ?"
Myles: Yep, yep. Dylan: Right, Uncle Myles?
Myles: Yep, yep, great. Sounds like fun.
Rebecca: Isn't that movie rated, like, double-R?
Charlie: Yeah.
I think that's why Mom told us no.
Myles: Dylan.
Dylan: What? sh**t's gonna sh**t.
Myles: Rebecca, I--I can't deal with these two today.
I need you to keep an eye on them.
Rebecca: Oh, so you can deal with the caterers
when they get here?
Myles: Yeah, but I need you to deal with the caterers, too.
Dad!
[high-pitched voice] Myles: "Dad!"
Ok. All right, all right, all right.
You know what? It was a bit much, ok?
I'm stressed. I'm sorry. It was unnecessary.
Whatever. I can't anyways. I'm going to Bethany's.
Myles: Well, you need to call Bethany and
tell her you're gonna be late. Rebecca: Dad, no.
Myles: Then you need to call Bethany
and tell her you're grounded.
Rebecca: Heh heh!
Guess I can be a little late.
Myles: Mm-hmm. Great.
Dylan: You know, Uncle Myles,
you're stressed about this little speech
when there's no reason. [scoffs]
You've got a grade-A writer sitting right on your shoulder.
Myles: Yeah. Good idea.
Charlie, what you got?
Charlie: Well, you could write-- Dylan: No. O.G.!
Me. Me.
I can whip up something for you in, like,
mmm, no time.
Myles: What's he saying?
Charlie: He's saying he could write your speech for you.
Myles: Ah. Dylan: Exactly!
I'm sayin' I got you!
As a young rapper-- Young Dylan--
you ain't got to worry about nothin'.
Now, what rhymes with Yasmine?
Mmm, raspin'?
Mmm. I don't know. Um--
Ooh, has been, has been.
Let me put that in. That's a great--
Myles: Mm-mmm, mm-mmm.
Yeah, this is a speech, not a rap, ok?
There's no rhymes in speeches.
Dylan: Ain't you ever heard of the "I have a dream" speech?
Myles: Yeah. That speech didn't rhyme.
Dylan: No, but that dude got flow.
Rebecca: Did you just call Dr. Martin Luther King
"dude"?
Myles: Uh, Dylan, no, thank you.
Appreciate the offer, though.
I'm gonna go finish writing my speech upstairs.
Um, Rebecca? Rebecca: Huh?
Myles: I need you to keep an eye on them.
I'm gonna give the caterer your number.
And, guys,
your mother left me in charge,
so don't mess this up.
Rebecca: Ok, you heard him. I'm in charge,
and I'm not taking my eyes off of you two for one second,
not even if-- [phone vibrates]
[gasps] Smelly Kelly's wearing orange?
Dylan: What the--
She is gonna stop talking in the middle of a sentence
and walk off like that?
Charlie: She does that sometimes.
Dylan: Yo, that's mad rude.
Charlie: You'll get used to it.
Dylan: Yo, Chuck, what's this?
What's a "parental lock"?
Charlie: Oh. My parents put that on there
so we can't watch bad movies. You need the code.
Dylan: Well, what's the code?
Charlie: I don't know. I'll go ask my dad.
Dylan: Charlie, no!
How do you not know? You've got to be looking
over their shoulders when they type this stuff.
Charlie: Oh. Dylan: I got it.
Watch this. ---
Charlie: Ka-caw! Ka-caw!
Dylan: Chill! What are you doing?
Charlie: The signal. Dylan: What signal?
Rebecca: I assume for me?
Charlie: Hide it, hide it, hide it.
Dylan: Oh, hey, sis. We weren't even--
Rebecca: Don't care, and don't call me sis.
The caterers are here.
[French accent] Man: Hello, young miss.
I am here from ze catering company and--
Rebecca: Kitchen table. You know what to do.
Man: Ok. Just go grab the food
from the van and, um, ok.
Dylan: Hey, sis.
Hey, Cousin Rebecca!
Rebecca: What's up? Dylan: Please, please,
please tell me I get to bust up some of this food.
Rebecca: Yeah. It's expensive, but my mom
always orders way too much, so go nuts.
Dylan: Yes!
Man: Ahem. Uh,
we have some more to grab. Ahem. Uh, ok.
Come, come. Come.
Dylan: Finally, some food worthy
of a young rap guy like myself.
This is how I should be eatin'.
Yo!
What is this?
Rebecca: Fancy food.
Dylan: A little tomato stuffed with a piece of green? Ugh!
Rebecca: That's a walking salad.
Dylan: And what is this?
It looks like brown goop
on a piece of cr*cker.
Ugh!
Charlie: Oh, my dad loves the brown goop.
Dylan: And Aunt Yas is paying them for this trash?
Man, these guys are crooks.
I mean, look at this.
I wouldn't feed this to a stray dog.
Charlie: Yeah! [coughs]
Dylan: And if this was my house,
I would tell these clowns to take their walking salads
and walk on outta here!
Kick rocks! You're fired!
Charlie: Yeah! [coughing]
Rebecca: Charlie.
Go do your breathing exercises.
It doesn't matter if you like the food.
It's for my mom's bosses.
Dylan: Oh... So, she hates them?
Rebecca: No!
Dylan: So she's trying to get fired?
Rebecca: No! Dylan: Charlie?
Rebecca: Aah! Dylan: Ooh.
Rebecca: Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing?
Charlie: Tossing this junk in the trash.
Dylan: Charlie, why?!
Charlie: You said it was dog food
and the caterers are a bunch of crooks, so I fired them.
Dylan: Oh. Ahem.
Rebecca: You what?
Charlie: This is my house!
So I sent them packing!
You're welcome.
Rebecca: Charlie!
I have to get them back!
Charlie: That's unlikely.
I told them to take their nasty food
and get out of here! Dylan: Ha ha!
Yeah, that was pretty nasty food.
I got to say, little dude,
I'm impressed.
What are you doing?
Charlie: We'll work on that later.
Rebecca: Great! They're gone.
How could you do this, Charlie?
Mom is gonna k*ll Dad, and Dad's gonna k*ll me,
and guess who I'm going to k*ll.
Grr!
Dylan: Ok, ok, ok.
Let's chill with all that m*rder talk.
Your boy Y.D. got a plan.
Rebecca: Great.
Dylan: All we need to do is make our own dinner,
and I guarantee it'll be way better
than that nasty brown goop they were slingin'.
Rebecca: I don't know how to cook.
And besides, tomorrow's grocery day.
There's, like, no food in the house.
Dylan: Are you kidding me?
There's more food in here than I seen
in my kitchen in a year!
Rebecca: What, cornflakes
and old jars of pickles?
Dylan: Girl, I've been cooking for myself
from an empty cupboard since I was .
I'm almost as good at that as I am at rapping,
and you know I got bars.
Charlie: Yeah! Dylan: Not now.
I'll whip up some of my greatest hits,
and y'all are gonna help me.
Now, hand me those cornflakes and find me some cheese.
Rebecca: This is a terrible idea.
Charlie: We could just tell Dad what happened.
Rebecca: I think there's some, um,
shredded cheddar in the back of the fridge.
Dylan: Perfect.
Rebecca: Ooh! Oh!
Chef!
These cornflake nachos are starting to smoke.
Dylan: Good. Once the smoke gets nice
and thick, that means they're done.
How's it going with those pickled dogs?
Charlie: I'm almost out of maple syrup.
Dylan: Well, make it stretch.
Rebecca: Dylan, are you sure any of this is going to taste ok?
Dylan: Pshh! No doubt.
Rebecca: Oh! That's my Dad!
[Dylan grunts]
Rebecca: He can't come in here! He'll freak!
Dylan: Chill, chill! I'm on it!
Just keep stirring.
Myles: Hello-o!
Hello, hello, hello-- hey, hey, hey, what's going on?
What--uh, oh.
You--you guys made this?
Dylan: Yeah. Just a little sum sum for auntie.
Myles: That's nice. [Dylan grunts]
Heh heh! Um, Uncle M,
shouldn't you be upstairs, finishing your speech?
Myles: Oh, no, no. Finally done.
Dylan: What? For real? Myles: Mm-hmm.
Hot off the press. Yes.
And, uh, there's gonna be tears. Oh, yeah.
What's going on with the caterers?
I hope they brought my brown stuff.
[Dylan grunts] No, Unc.
Maybe you should let me hear that speech,
you know, make sure you're actually comin' with that heat.
Myles: Yeah. All right, all right.
Check this out. Ahem.
[clears throat loudly]
"Yasmine, my wife,
"my beautiful flower,
like the rose, your beauty and your strength know no end."
Dylan: Ok, dawg!
I'mma have to stop you right there.
So she won an award, right?
Myles: Yes.
Dylan: So why are you talking about gardening?
Myles: No, no, it's not about gardening.
It's a metaphor.
Dylan: Meta for what,
bad?
Don't worry.
I got you. Here.
Just a little sum sum I came up with while I was cookin'.
Myles: Cookin'? Cookin' what?
Dylan: Oh! Um,
it's slang for "Cookin' up those lyrics."
You know this already. Myles: Ok.
Dylan: Never mind. Just listen.
[rapping] Let me tell you a little sum about my wife
and how lucky I am she's in my life.
Myles: Uh, no. No, I'm not gonna do it.
Not about to rap to my wife's boss. Thank you.
Dylan: Wait, wait, wait, wait!
Myles: Boy, get out of my way.
You don't want to get between me and my goop, ok?
Thank you-- Dylan: No, no, no.
Yasmine: * We're here
Myles: Hey. Yasmine: Wow.
Hi, sweetie.
Myles: Hi. She's talking to me.
Yasmine: Hmm. Smells so interesting.
Oh, you know Mrs. Whitaker.
Myles: Hi. Good to see you again, Mrs. Whitaker.
Mrs. Whitaker: Martin, so good to see you again.
Myles: Well, it's-- it's Myles. Heh!
Mrs. Whitaker: And you must be Charlie.
You look just like I remember. [chuckles]
Dylan: You're gonna have to put that on pause.
My name is Young Dylan.
Yasmine: Mrs. Whitaker, this is my nephew, Dylan.
He's staying with us for a while.
But why don't you all make yourself at home
while I check in with Myles and the caterers?
Myles: Welcome, welcome.
Yasmine: Yes. Myles: All right.
Yasmine: And, Dylan, don't you have something to do?
Dylan: Not really.
Myles: Look at that! You got a trophy.
Look at this trophy. Oh, my gosh.
I'm so proud of you. Yasmine: Thank you.
Was there any problems with the caterers?
Myles: Oh, no, no, not at all. Not on my watch.
Charlie: Coming through. Who's hungry?
Yasmine: Charlie, what are you doing?
Charlie: Passing apps. Yasmine: No, I mean,
why are you passing them and not the caterers?
What is on that tray?
Charlie: Pickle dogs.
Yasmine: Pickle--Myles, what is going on?
Myles: That's a very good question.
Charlie, what's going on?
Charlie: Well, don't panic,
but there was a small problem with the caterers.
Yasmine: What is wrong with them?
Charlie: Well... Don't worry about it.
I fired them. Yasmine: You what?!
Myles: Heh! Yeah!
Yasmine: I need to talk to you in the kitchen, please.
Myles: Charlie, you better go.
Yasmine: I was talking to you.
Dylan: That's why the best investment
you can make is in today's youth.
Matter of fact, what's your number?
Mrs. Whitaker: Uh, my phone number?
Dylan: Yeah, so I can send you some tracks I've been workin' on.
Rebecca: Oh, hey, Mom.
Yasmine: What happened? Rebecca: Ok, look,
I was dealing with the caterers, and I took my eyes off Charlie
for, like, two seconds, and he went and fired them all and
threw all the food in the trash. Myles: In the trash?
Was there brown stuff? Yasmine: Wait, wait.
Why are you dealing with the caterers?
Rebecca: Dad said I was grounded if I didn't.
Yasmine: Oh! Really?
Myles: Well, you know, I--I wasn't, you know,
I mean, and then--pshh!
You are so beautiful.
Charlie: Hey, Becks, we need more pickle dogs ASAP.
Mrs. Whitaker is dying to try the cornflake nachos.
Yasmine: Uh, I'm sorry. What?
Charlie: Which part, pickle dogs or nachos?
Yasmine: You mean Mrs. Whitaker
actually ate one of those things?
Charlie: No, she ate .
Dylan: I'm telling you, man,
that's all you need to do. Boom!
Instant cash flow.
Mrs. Whitaker: Is somebody writing this down? Heh!
Yasmine: Is Dylan bothering you, Mrs. Whitaker?
Mrs. Whitaker: Oh, I have to say I find your nephew delightful.
Yasmine: And the food is...edible?
Mrs. Whitaker: Oh, honestly,
I had never even heard
of a pickle dog in my life,
but I got to say, I kinda love 'em.
[chuckles] Dylan: It's a hit.
Yasmine: Really?
Mrs. Whitaker: Dylan's been telling us how he
and his cousin prepared the dinner.
Yasmine: Yeah. I'm sorry about that. I--
Mrs. Whitaker, chuckling: No, I love it.
Yasmine: Oh! Ha ha ha!
Oh, thank you.
Mrs. Whitaker: I can't tell you how many
of these catered dinners I've been to, and it's
always the same food.
Heh! Followed by the same speech
about a...baby bird
or a flower blooming in spring.
[both laugh]
Mrs. Whitaker: Oh, sorry.
Martin, you didn't have a speech, did you?
Yasmine: Well, yes.
Myles wanted to say a few words.
Myles: Ahem. Yasmine: And I am sure you can
expect a little more than birds and flowers,
right, sweetie?
Myles: Of course. Yep, yeah, yeah. No.
I mean, you know, my speech doesn't involve,
like, not one flower. Not a single flower, yeah.
Yeah, my--my speech...
is different.
Yep.
It's, uh,
it's--let me...
"Let me tell you a little something about my wife
and how lucky I am she's in my life."
Mrs. Whitaker: Sweet.
"There's so much to spit--there's
"so much to say,
"but I'll try to be quick
"when I tell you about
'dis real bad chick."
"Darling, you're incredible.
"They should make a movie,
and I ain't never seen a realtor with such a fine--"
Yasmine: Honey! Ha ha ha ha!
Sweetie, that was good.
Myles: Yes. Dylan?
Dylan: That was some of the best writing I ever heard.
You're a genius.
Myles: Mm-hmm. Yasmine: Heh heh!
You wrote about me being a flower, didn't you?
Myles: Whole garden.
Charlie: Excuse me. Yasmine: Oh.
Who's up for some more cornflake nachos?
Mrs. Whitaker: Ooh.
Yo,
I'm 'bout to bust that up.
Dylan: Get it, girl!
Yeah!
Dylan: Goin' for that brown stuff?
Myles: Heh!
Goin' for the brown stuff.
Dylan: A'ight.
You do you.
Myles: Yeah.
Brown stuff.