All language subtitles for diarra.from.detroit.s02e02.1080p.web.h264-cakes_track3_[eng]

♪ Papa was a Rolling Stone ♪

Don't y'all go together just
like Frankie Beverly and me?

And may your first child
be a masculine child.

Boy or girl?

You better get started soon.

How old is she anyway?

And then you recently divorced,

your biological clock
is ticking.

Not just ticking, Aja.

Barking at me like DM-fucking-X.

Just bark, bark, bark.

Welcome home, Deonte.

Anybody offer you candy
to get in their van,

you shoot their ass.

He's like very traumatized.

Bruh, he was kidnapped twice.

Yes, but now it's like
he's kidnapping me.

It's like a pussy dryer rubber.

Shit hit my knee like
a millimeter from my dick.

Look me in the eyes. So what
happened? No niggas shot you.

My nephew stole my armoire.

A beautiful antique.

Been in our family
for a hundred years.

I knocked something off
the rent if you find it.

Harley gave me his humidor key.

Is he Chris's real father?

Does Harley know?

If you ever speak of me
or cross me,

I will set your life on fire,
Miss Brickland.

Baby, I get you.
You're crazy as fuck,

and I'm riding at dawn
every fucking time.

I'm sorry. I'm crazy.

Did you just see yourself?

You want
to chase down Ron's armoire?

[grunting]

I still don't got it.

I got somebody working on it.
She's real good.

- She'll--
- Find the armoire.

No, bruh, no, no, no, no.

DIARRA: Confession.

So I was really trying
to make my relationship work.

LORETTA:
So that's why you're here?

You know, we just figured
a check-in couldn't hurt.

There's no shade or anything.

I'm just not entirely convinced
therapy is really necessary.

I mean, I'm not one
of those Black people

that's afraid of therapy.
I've been.

LORETTA:
Are you in therapy now?

No, no. My last therapist,
she had mentioned

that her daughter's
name was L'Oreal Paris.

And I was like, bitch, come on.

You can't help me.

LORETTA: How's the sex?

- It's good.
- Good. Good.

LORETTA:
And the communication?

- It's good.
- Right?

Yeah. I mean, you know,
because, you know, we talk.

- We do.
- Yeah. So it's good.

LORETTA:
Okay. So you're having fun?

- Yeah.
- Yeah, we are.

[pensive music playing]

DIARRA: My insomnia was back.

Like an old friend.

Like an omen.

There were
92 Coney's in Detroit,

which made the odds of running

into an ex-in-one in the middle
of the night almost zero.

Almost.

Are you fucking serious?

Shit.

Royce. Hey.

I think I'm fucking offended.

Don't be offended.

What happened was I thought
I had saw something crawling.

- No, no, no. Really, Dee?
- Crawling--

Really?
I mean, that was very cold.

Okay. I'm sorry.

Let's just be nice
and we'll redo it.

- Redo it?
- Yeah.

- Okay. That's fun, cool.
- Okay, lets...

Fuck!

[Royce clears throat]

[Royce sighs]

Royce Frederick.

The only guy to ever dump me
over Facebook Messenger.

Hi.

Diarra Dawson.

The only woman to ever
leave a voicemail so scathing.

I re-examined
all my life choices

and moved to Bali for a year.

So thank you for that.

- You're welcome.
- Good to see you again.

Okay. You don't have to.

- Yes, yes, I know.
- You don't... You know what?

- It's not necessary. Okay.
- Oh, that feels great, okay.

- Okay.
- Okay, yes.

So of all the Coneys in the D,
just had to roll up in mine.

Maybe you just rolled up
in mine.

Oh, that's a negatory.
I'm here twice a week.

I've written
100 columns right there.

Which is probably why
you subconsciously sat there.

My energy's built up.

You are exactly the same.

- Handsome?
- Arrogant.

Then no, not the same.

Oh, right, right.

I know I heard you got
some big job where

you write up your little stats
and gossip about athletes.

Stats?
Gossip?

That's called a sports reporter.

Oh, yeah. That's the one.

- There you go.
- Okay.

Well,
you couldn't stay a depressed

substitute teacher forever,
could you?

- I'm proud of you.
- Thank you.

But I've had a very rough night.

So can we please just not talk?

- Please stop talking.
- Okay.

- I'm not talking.
- Still talking.

- ROYCE: One.
- DIARRA: Yes.

- ROYCE: Two.
- DIARRA: Yes.

- Three. It's gonna be fine.
- Oh, shit.

- You never gonna beat me.
- Damn.

Gotta be quick and dirty.

You're crazy, Kitty.

I'm good. Thank you.

Girl,
another nip won't kill you.

Wow. I have to go home
to my boyfriend.

- Boyfriend, huh?
- Yes, boyfriend.

Why are you out by yourself,
middle of the night?

Mm? Old boy ain't acting right?

Me and Chris are great, actually.

I don't believe you.

- I don't care.
- [chuckling]

- Deonte Brooks, right?
- Mm-hmm.

I read about that shit.

So this nigga got you calling
him by his alias?

Wow.

That don't seem like it makes
for a great relationship, Dee.

What do you know about
great relationships?

Didn't your ex burn all your gym
shoes on your front lawn?

The bitch just had
a bonfire of Air Force Ones.

- It was actually Jordans.
- Uh.

And I'm a different cat now, okay?

So you gonna marry this nigga?

Have little Deontes?

- Don't laugh, huh?
- I don't know. Maybe.

I'm happy.

Happy.

I'm just surprised
you didn't have a kid

with that corny lawyer dude.

What if we had kept it?

We'd have a 10-year-old now.

- Little JoJo.
- Oh, God, please.

Please don't
name our made-up kid.

It's not made up.

Look, I didn't think
I wanted kids.

But then my dad died.

The whole legacy thing just kind
of landed on me, like, boom.

We should try again.
For real this time.

- [scoffs]
- Hear me out.

If it gets romantic again,
that's a plus.

Or we can get modern.

Co-parent,
you can use my sperm.

I mean, your ass ain't
getting any younger.

Wow, Royce, I will actually
stab you in the throat.

The egg reserves go down
every six months after 35.

- Why do you even know that?
- Old ladies have old babies.

- Shut up!
- If you wait too long--

You don't know...
What are you talking about?

Baby, if you wait too long,

you will give birth
to Morgan Freeman.

How old are
your little swimmers, Royce?

What the fuck is wrong with you?

You don't offer another
man's girlfriend your sperm.

KITTY: Well, shit,
I'll take your sperm.

Kitty, shut up.

So you're saying you aren't
ready for a family?

Are you ready?

["What Good is a Song"
by Quincy Jones]

♪ If it has no message
to bring? Oh, yeah ♪

♪ If a song cannot
send you higher ♪

♪ Higher, higher ♪

- DIARRA: Where's the armoire?
- RON: There.

Ron, this is a desk.

Desk... Armoire...
It's an antique.

That shit
is a goddamn family treasure.

Okay, it's a nice piece,
but it's a desk.

Oh, it's a piece of shit.
Yeah, it's old.

As old as my mama's recipes.

And they called for apples
out of the Garden of Eden.

You see this boy right here?

My nephew, Booker,

goddamn criminal in training.

As big as he could get
a few ducats for it.

I tried to help that boy.
I gave him a place to stay.

What does he do?
He takes off with it.

- To where?
- No clue.

This thing has bared
witness to our lives.

Four generations.

Four generations,
and it's gone.

I need this.

You got to help me find this.

[emotional music playing]

This thing is blessed.

Month's free rent
if you find it.

DIARRA: I guess that's what
got me into this mess.

Seemed easier to protect
someone else's family legacy

than wrestle
with creating my own.

But God, I had no idea

this old bitch would be
this much trouble.

Wait, wait, wait.

Three months rent.
And you fixed the furnace.

It's too hot
for it just to be coming on.

Two months rent. And I'll show
you the trick to the furnace.

You just got to bang
it in the right spot.

DIARRA:
It seems so simple.

- Deal.
- Deal.

Find Booker,
find the desk, have some fun.

These belong to Booker.

Yeah, hand them over
to him when you see him.

He's not allowed
in my house again.

Come on, I'll show you
that trick to the furnace.

[both] Check the pockets.

DIARRA: Turned out
Booker left breadcrumbs.

Stamp looks like
it's from a bar.

Blacklight.
As big as he is,

he probably works
security somewhere.

Tea might know.

He's hoed his way through
every club in the city.

Booker's got a terrible diet.
Pop, hot chips, sunflower seeds.

Well, we'll take him
by Whole Foods when we find him.

We got an addy on the receipt.

Receipt traced back to a liquor
store in the newly hip Corktown.

Just next door, an antique shop.

- He's selling it.
- Mm-hmm.

- We should hire him.
- [door bell dings]

RON: Are you coming
down here or what?

- Coming.
- Coming.

DIARRA: Then fate
literally came knocking.

Hey, sister.

You mind watching
Little Man for five minutes?

I'm sorry. Watch him do what?

Oh, my girl forgot
to leave the car seat,

so I gotta run up
to her job and get it.

Ooh, you know, I'm kind of
in the middle of something,

and I don't really know you.

I live down the street.

You know, it takes a village.

You know what they say.

Detroit ain't nothing
but the West African village

of the Midwest.

No one has ever said that.

How could you say no
to that pretty face?

- Oh, my God.
- [baby crying]

He likes you.
Five minutes.

Hey!

What the fuck?

AJA: I want to thank all of
you for coming here today.

You all are the top-tier
stylists in the D.

Mary here keep our first
lady hair slayed

and sanctified every Sunday.

Amen.

Trish, these rappers'
main chicks would be mere

side chicks if it wasn't
for your signature sew-ins,

which is why I've come
to you ladies first.

[gasp] Oh, God!

Premium, Virgin Remy hair
imported all the way from China.

Our bundles are single donor,
non-shedding perfection.

For what you're asking,
we'd have to leave

our regular bundle connects.

Why should we trust you?

Because I've got the plug, ladies.

I've partnered with Morgan Den
of Den Investment Group.

I have family ties in
the Huangluo village

and factory in China.

I'm guaranteeing a quality
of hair that has never

flown into the D.

Now, can you really
guarantee on-time delivery

from halfway across the world?

How many hair shows
do we go back, Mary?

Come on, I'm a woman of my word.

The bundles landed this morning.

Mm-hmm.

Well, I'll take mine today.

LORETTA:
So you want a baby?

Is that why you wanted
to meet alone?

[exhaling]

I don't want to be this girl.

Like all baby crazy.

LORETTA: But running into your
ex fucked your head up about it.

[sniffles]

Chris has got a lot going on.

You know, he's very angsty.

I mean, why do you think
we're just now getting

to a third date?

And so, you know, I'm just,
I'm going to need a sign

that it's a good time
to even bring up kids.

DIARRA:
And then bam, a billboard.

RON: Not the baby.
Never take the baby.

What? Ron,
I didn't take the baby.

A guy came, asked if I could
hold the baby for a minute.

I thought you was professional.

What did I miss?

Eh, she got baby man-ned.

Yeah, boy's a menace.
Got my last tenets, too.

No, no, no. The guy said
he was coming right back.

Baby man always says that.

And he do come back,
just not right back.

Ron, the guy said five minutes.

Yeah, well, I doubt it.

Baby man disappears
more than Houdini.

Penny is next door.

She's created a community crate.

Got everything in it
that you guys are

going to need for the day.

[both] For the day?

This is your expenses.

Now, find my armoire.

Ron, it's a desk.

- Give me--
- Find my armoire.

It's an armoire.

It's a desk.

DIARRA: It was classic
dating after 35.

You go through ungodly
amounts of bullshit

just to get to a third date.

And the third date's all about
getting right down to business.

Are you daddy material?

Are you the one?

Sir, sir, please be careful,
guys, okay?

I'll be with you in a moment.
Thanks.

So you got us in trouble.

Can we go back to
the thing you said before?

You've only ever dated
strippers and teachers.

- You guys have a lot in common.
- What?

Yeah, yeah. Oh, how about this?

About the fireplace.

DIARRA: That is the second
red flag of the day.

The first is
that you've only ever dated

strippers and teachers.

My mom was a stripper.

Well, damn, baby.
Now I can't say shit.

Why do people fill
their house with this junk?

Did you know that tchotchkes is
literally Yiddish for useless?

Is that true?

I don't know.

It might not be true.

Hey, how are you?

I'm Paul.
What can I do for you two?

Paul.

We're looking for this desk.

Oh, the Jackson and Powell?

- Mm-hmm.
- Did you buy it?

Yeah. No, no.

I mean, look, I didn't buy it,
but I know--

Hey, stop stuttering, nigga,
and start talking.

We know the kid was
in here looking to sell.

- Where's the desk?
- Okay, I'm sorry.

Are y'all with law
enforcement or--

I'm a teacher
on summer vacation.

He's an insurance
adjuster between gigs,

but we mean fucking business.

Okay, look,
I don't need this energy, okay?

I've got nothing to hide.

I know who you're talking about.

I gave him an email of an
interested buyer, but that's--

Who? Who?
Give us a name.

I can't.
My client list is confidential.

- [baby crying]
- Oh, God, the baby.

You know,
he's just making that face like

he's about to take a giant shit.

Should I just change him on
this thing here? Take this off.

No, no, no, no, no.
Please. Bathroom.

Just, please.

Okay,
but just keep an eye on him.

He's got butter fingers.

How much is it?
This one right here.

PATTO: Oh, my God.
Sir, sir, please--

Can you please put that down?

- CHRIS: Like that?
- PATTO: No, just put it down.

Hello?

Just looking for the bathroom.

- [baby crying]
- Okay.

Jackson and Powell, Booker.

Okay, sh-sh.

[sniffles] Uhh!

Did you just shit for real?

Oh!

I found you
a buyer for the desk.

Me, actually.
I can offer 5k, Paul.

So you're the buyer, Paul.

Shady.

No dice.
How about 10k final offer?

Hmm.

10k was a lot
for a piece of shit.

Booker never responded to Paul's
offer, but one thing was clear.

Ron had lied. Lowballed us.

And it was getting harder
to ignore the fact

that something
else about Ron was mmm... off.

[squealing]

Seriously,
who the fuck is there?

[squealing continues]

Miss?

You good?

- [screaming]
- [goat bleats]

Maybe Detroit really
was the West African

village of the Midwest.

Oh, I was... um...

Don't even worry about it.
I didn't see anything.

Okay, sis.
Good looking out.

Okay, sis.
Good looking out.

Ma'am?

According to the tracking,

the shipment
was supposed to be here.

What are you trying to say?

Don't ask me
anything like that, okay?

I know that the hair weave
is not normally that heavy,

but it is a lot of weave.

Okay, well how...

Okay, how long is
the additional custom screening?

- [beeping]
- Hello?

Shit.

- [line ringing]
- WOMAN: Never development?

- Walt Harley, please?
- Let me see if he's available.

Yeah, it's-- it's urgent.

[hip hop music playing]

- Oh, shit!
- Ah!

Ah! Get out of here!

- [indistinct]
- [indistinct]

You're too stressed.

You're too rest!

I'm trying to prevent
World War III from

breaking out of my wedding, dog.

Oh, come on, Stitch.

Everybody gets a little
nervous about the seating chart.

Shit'll be fine.

Uh, no the fuck it won't, nigga.

I don't think
you understand, bro.

Since Velvet got got,

shipment like the fucking
Sopranos out there.

Then all
these motherfuckers expect

to be invited to my wedding.

You patch up
the whole fucking city.

The fuck you think
they gonna do?

Shoot up
the hood doctor's wedding?

Uh, yeah, nigga.

My cousin Razor Blade,
he is Gratiot Kings.

I cannot sit him at table three

next to my nigga Doughnut
that run with the Fenkell Mob.

Yeah, I see your point.
That would be awkward.

Can I give you some real
ass advice?

Fuck it, elope!

What the hell can
I say about you, bro?

You are a good listener.

I appreciate that, bro.

Guess it's good to have
a client that's

a soft ass science teacher.

Soft?
Nigga soft?

I'm actually tracking
down a dude

who might have committed
a fucking felony.

Bro, I understand all
the gay lingo and shit.

But I am happy for you
that you're finally

going on a second date, my boy.

Even if it is that overpriced,
hipster, speakeasy bullshit.

Wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait, wait.

You know what this stamp is?

A place called Tommy's Gun.

Tommy's Gun?

CHRIS: So what do you think
the goat was for?

You knew what the goat was for.

Two words.

- Go fucker.
- Go fucker. Yeah.

All right,
so if Booker left Paul hanging,

he probably still has the desk.

Which is nuts. Because for 10k,
shit, I might still run shit.

- Yeah.
- Mmm.

Mmm, mm, mm.

I can't believe you don't
remember Superman ice cream.

No, that is some Detroit shit.
We ain't have that.

- What does it taste like?
- Chemicals.

- Chemicals?
- Mm.

All right, let's just
go to the liquor store.

Maybe they got a beat on,
Booker.

Mm-hmm.

- Hey!
- Hey! Be back!

What are you doing in my car?

DIARRA: And then
the craziest thing happened.

Before we got a beat on Booker,
Booker got a beat on us.

- Bitch!
- [grunting]

Who the fuck
are you supposed to be?

- Run Dee!
- Ah!

I have a baby,
you fucking psycho!

[grunting]

[baby crying]

[dramatic music playing]

- DIARRA: Shit.
- Hey!

Hey!

Fuck!

No, no!

- Kick his ass!
- Get the fuck out me!

- Chris!
- Get off him, man!

Oh, oh, oh, hey, hey,
hey, hey, hey, hey!

Hey, yo, who y'all with, huh?
Who sent you?

Yo, Uncle Ron sent us
to get his desk back.

His desk?

Man, the old nigga cap.
Stay the fuck away from me!

First and last warning, nigga.

Maybe don't have
your baby running around

the streets in swim diapers.

Trifling ass parents.

Fuck!

He took my gun!

Fucking delinquent!

Okay, I got you, bubba.

You're okay.
Okay, you're okay, baby.

I can't believe
you would bring

a concealed weapon
around a baby.

You don't even have
a permit for that shit.

It's stupid.

Do not call me stupid.
It's for protection.

Bang up job.

How are you not on my side?
He attacked me.

- Obviously, he's affiliated.
- We don't know that.

Since when do thugs
know about swim diapers?

Thugs know about everything.

Well, I don't like being mommy
shamed, but at least now we can

get Baby What's-His-Face
in something more absorbent.

- You're okay.
- Oh, I don't believe this shit.

He seems scared underneath.

Like, what if,
what if Booker's a good guy?

And Ron's cap?

Ron did not
stick a gun in my face.

Booker's not scared.
He's slick.

Like, how the hell are
we out here looking

for him and he finds us?

Wait, wait, wait.

Booker's receipt had two
cans of pop, two bags of chips.

CHRIS:
And the sunflower seed, so what?

No. Sunflowers.

What if it was a broke-ass date?

Like a picnic or something.

You don't have to explain.
I didn't see anything.

Okay, sis, good looking out.

Yo, Bookie, hey, um,
someone's looking for you.

And I think they just
went across the street.

He's got a girl.

Call Ron.

Tell him the price just went up.

So we really just stalking
a young black girl?

No, we're following
her to her boyfriend.

She's getting away.
You see that?

- I see her.
- Okay.

I feel like
the baby named Bruce.

This whole scene is
tres guetto.

Okay, stalking.

It's random ass, baby.

I'm only on this ride
for emergency counsel.

Friends, could I go
on a date with Harley?

What? Absolutely no,
you may not do that.

Wait a minute.
So you can solve hood crimes,

but I can't date an old nigga?

No, Aja,
we're antiquing, not you.

Hu-hu, hu-hu, ain't nothing
wrong with vintage dick

if it's worth millions.

Oi! [laughs]

And y'all, to be honest,
I need his help to get

my hair weave out of customs.

Speaking of old shit.

The Key Stamp. Tommy's Gun.

It's a speakeasy downtown
everybody talking about.

Where they found that old
corpse during the renovations?

Yep, and we have got
reservations tonight.

So everybody's coming
because I had to put

my credit card down, okay?

Oh, crying, crying, crying.

You know what? Hey,
maybe he really is y'all baby.

[baby continues crying]

But it takes real men to cry.

TEA: Hey man, you know,
tears is power, you know?

Nobody calling you a pussy.

LORETTA: Chris, is there
anything you want to say

to Diarra?

Diarra, is there anything
you want to say to Chris?

You motherfuckers don't
communicate well at all.

You tiptoe around
each other like

you're not two grown-ass people.

Talk, really, talk. Shit.

["Gorgeous" by
Tee Grizzley and Skilla Boy]

♪ Ha, six figures for a Patek,
it's gorgeous ♪

♪ Diamond links on my wrist
full of pointers ♪

♪ Cuban link on my neck,
this bitch gorgeous ♪

♪ We eat the most, bust tint,
it's enormous ♪

♪ I love starin' at my bitch,
she gorgeous ♪

TEA: By the looks for these
two scary muthafuckers.

I would say this is
Gratiot Kings territory.

You and the baby
should stay here.

Everybody relax.

The only thing popping
off is a prom send off.

♪ You gorgeous, you gorgeous,
gorgeous, gorgeous ♪

Come on, we'll just tell them
we part of Jamarcus' family.

Who the hell is that?

I'm sure it's a Jamarcus
over there somewhere.

♪ You know these hoes gonna
do whatever I tell them ♪

♪ I ain't normal
Wrist full of pointers ♪

♪ Ain't no fucking
paper shortage, nigga ♪

♪ They look like phone
numbers when I get advances ♪

♪ I love your natural body,
baby, less enhancing ♪

♪ They would've kicked you out
of school, you the baddest ♪

♪ You know them bitches that
ain't gorgeous be the maddest ♪

We need to just fly under
the radar and find Lisa.

Come on, y'all.

Gratiot Kings must've
sponsored this whole shit.

Cars, muffs, gators.

That's why they got all
this extra security.

Yeah, but none of them
spending stacks on prom.

They can't even cut they grass.

♪ Cuban link on my neck,
this bitch, she gorgeous ♪

♪ We eat the most,
bust tint, it's enormous ♪

♪ I love staring at my bitch,
she gorgeous ♪

♪ She love staring at my kit,
it's gorgeous ♪

♪ My lil' bitch say her favorite
words is, "You gorgeous" ♪

♪ I keep talkin' to my wrist
like, "You gorgeous" ♪

Oh, God, I love prom here.

A bomb could go off.
That shit wouldn't move an inch.

- How was your prom?
- Whack.

That's all I get?

Date got too fucked up.
Never even dance.

Hmm.

Who invited you
motherfuckers?

Uh, Jamarcus.

Cute baby.

Thanks.

He [indistinct]

I wore the wrong damn shoes
to be in this gang's territory.

Oh damn. I know they say

it's what's on
the inside they can't put...

Baby girl! Yo edges! Please!

You know, if my girl's
blocking this much security,

might be where I'd hide
my valuable stolen antique.

Lisa, Lisa.
Ten o'clock, you see her?

Hey, either she cheating
on Booker or that's her daddy.

Her pops must be the OG
with the scarf.

We need to tread carefully.

I'll tread how the fuck I tread.

Hey, hey, hey. Hold up.
We need a plan.

Okay, Tea, you check
inside for the desks.

Discreetly.
We'll follow Lisa.

Just say it.

You told your friends
I was pussy.

No. Chris--

Shit.

Hey, little girl.
Where the fuck is the desk?

I don't know what you're
talking about, my guy.

You know what
I'm talking about.

Lisa, we need to find Booker.

Okay, who steps
to somebody with a baby?

Like, bitch, don't you still
have C-section stitches?

What?

I did tell you to go
wait in your car, so go on.

I got this. Your strong-ass
little boyfriend,

he got two things
that don't belong to him.

Excuse me. We are supposed
to be doing this together, okay?

Hey, look at me.
I did not call you a pussy.

What do y'all want with Booker?

We want him to give us the desk.
How about that?

If you didn't call me a pussy,

then why did they
bring up the word?

Pussy is the Cadillac
of the human anatomy.

Gorgeous interior.
Impeccable design.

Not to mention,
the portal for all of humanity.

Agreed.

I would never use
that word as an insult.

- So you said it!
- Nigga, listen to me.

I'm gonna go, because
you guys have problems. So--

Uh-uh,
you ain't going nowhere until

you answer our questions,
little girl.

Okay, but I'm not gonna let
you guys ruin Brandee's night

with this shit.
Okay, yo, Daddy.

Oh, yeah. Great idea.

Hey, Daddy Scarface.

Let's get him over here.

Does he know
that you're sleeping

with the gang-banging
furniture thief?

Huh? I sure hope
he's with the right gang,

because these hoes around here,
ooh, they seem a little on edge.

Or maybe we should get
your boss down here.

Paul. He's looking
for the desk, too, am I right?

Okay.

Look, his uncle hired
us to get the desk.

Ron couldn't tell
the difference between

a Jackson and Powell escritoire
and a side table from Ikea.

- And you can?
- Yeah.

Handmade every dollhouse
on this block, bitch.

Yeah, I value craftsmanship.

Okay, you disrespectful-ass
furniture nerd.

I'm hot. I am tired from lugging
around this giant-ass baby.

Okay, now do we need
to get your daddy over here

or the cops?

Booker's gonna be here later.

How about you ask him
for yourself, okay?

Till then,
don't mess up Brandee's night.

- Excuse me.
- Thank you.

Is that so hard?

I don't know, Chris.

These kids seem very
passionate about this desk.

So does Ron.

Wait a minute. What if...

What if for once it is
about what's inside that counts?

And that's why Ron's
so desperate to get

his escree-whatever back.

Something inside?
Like what?

What's worth
three months of rent.

Drugs?

You think Ron has us
out here chasing down a package?

He was wearing a turtleneck
in the summertime.

My mama always said anybody
that's wearing fur

or a turtleneck in the
summertime cannot be trusted.

Ron is not a drug dealer.
Booker is the bad guy.

- Bad.
- Bad!

Hey, hey, listen.
Desk ain't in the house.

I checked upstairs.
I checked downstairs.

Did you check the basement?

No, I didn't check the basement.

Okay.
Tea, can you watch the baby?

- Uh, yes.
- Oh, thank God.

- Uh, yes.
- Oh, thank God.

Hello?

DIARRA: And that's when
I reveal... Brandee!

Then I had the distinct
feeling that somebody's baby

was all grown up.

And maybe she was sitting
on my desk right on top of

three months of free rent.

You look great.

Who the hell are you?

I'm, um, Jamarcus' aunt.

Congrats on getting out of jail.

Thank you. Thank you.

Is it prom night pressure?

Because, you know,
you don't gotta

do shit you don't wanna do.

I wanna do all this shit, okay?

I wanna have sex really bad.

Okay, I didn't need
the really bad, okay?

Points were made.

So what's the issue?

People expect me
to be smarter than that.

You know, 4.0.
Early acceptance Spellman.

I'm not a hoe.

[scoffs]

Yeah.

Oh... I wasn't a hoe either.

I didn't have sex on prom night.

- Really?
- No.

I was afraid that I would get
pregnant, which is funny now,

because there was this girl
that lived across the street.

Venita.
And she got pregnant at 15.

My mama was like,
"You see that fast ass heffa?

Her life is ruined."

And so to me, it just...

I don't know,
it felt like the hoes

got put to death or something.

But then
you fast forward 20 years,

and the hoes
are building empires.

The hoes
got private equity firms.

The hoes are winning, okay?

- Venita did all that?
- No, no, no, no.

Her life really was ruined.

Probably shouldn't have
used her as an example.

But a lot of other hoes,
they're winning.

Okay? I'm not saying be a hoe.

But I'm saying, black girl,
don't let anybody shame you

into not living
your life full out.

You get what you want,
you hear me?

- Period.
- Period.

Oh, and condoms. Every time.

Because sex positive,
that's one thing.

HIV positive,
something very different.

You know, you don't seem nothing
like how Jamarcus described you.

Hmm.

Whoever you killed must
have really deserved it.

They did. Mm-hmm.

They really did.
May I?

- Please.
- Okay.

DIARRA: Truth was, I really did
think I would crush being a mom.

I was ready.

If I was meant to become one,
well, that was another mystery.

- Perfect.
- Thank you.

- Mm-hmm.
- I guess I'm ready!

Yeah.

Stop.

Get out of here.
Go have fun.

DIARRA: But unlike Brandee,
I knew I didn't have

all the time in the world
to dig around.

Yes.

I lost the bet,
but I found...

No drugs.

Shit.

Black Castle Coney Island.

DIARRA: Another menu for a Coney
I knew closed years ago.

BANDANA:
The fuck you doing in here?

Oh, nothing.

I was just,
um, looking for the bathroom.

Nothing? Yeah?
Who sent you, huh?

- Hey, stop!
- Who the fuck sent you, huh?

You were fucking up!
Fuck your ass!

- [dramatic music playing]
- Asshole bitch!

The fuck you doing over here, huh?

Fuck your ass!

Fuck you, bitch!

[grunting]

Chris, Chris!

Hey, hey, hey.
Look at me. Look at me.

You got him.

- You okay?
- Yeah, I'm okay, are you okay?

Yes, I'm good.
Come on.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry.

Okay, we gotta go.
Come on, come on.

Shit. Okay, okay, this is it.

There wasn't
any drugs in there, huh?

I won the beat.

Really?
Right now?

- That's what you want to do?
- All right, hold on.

They're watching the kids go.
We need to move, okay?

- Okay.
- All right.

- How's your back?
- Strong.

You know, I picked my own name.

Yeah.

A lot of memories are
starting to come back.

I think we were driving
to a Cracker Barrel on the way

to Atlanta, and Flora
asked me to pick a new name.

You know, I was this close
to picking Wolverine,

but Chris Webber, he was my man.

LORETTA: Is it possible for you
to pull your attention away

from the past, focus more
on the gifts of the present?

My family
got me a really nice gift.

I feel like it was
their way of saying,

we wish we could have
protected you, you know?

It meant a lot.

Where the fuck y'all been?

I came by an hour ago!

You guys got
someone else's child.

It's irresponsible
is what it is. Damn!

Anytime, my man.

[both] You're welcome.

Can I be honest?

Mm-hmm.

This whole time since
you've been back,

I wasn't sure that
we could really work.

But then today,

I don't know what it was
starting to feel like,

even when it was bumpy,
that we could be real partners.

You snuck out the other night.

Came home smelling like liquor.

Wanna tell me if
I can trust you, partner?

Yes.

Yes, you can trust me.

My insomnia's back.

Okay, well, if you can't sleep,
you let me know.

You wake me up too.

And I'll put you back down.

- Okay.
- Okay.

- Well, since we fixing shit...
- Come on, what you got?

You didn't dance at your prom.

I didn't get laid.

Seems like maybe
we need a do-over.

["Only you"
by Ebony Riley]

I'd like that.

DIARRA: So that night, we dug up
a few emotional relics.

No, seriously, listen to me.

- No, you are--
- Listen.

Yeah, I'm trying.

I was this close
to choosing Wolverine.

I'm not even kidding.

But Chris Webber was the man,
so...

No, you were not going
to pick Wolverine.

Wolverine still. I'm so sorry.

Okay, if you had been
Wolverine still,

you definitely would
have made the NFL draft.

Facts.

♪ Only you, only ♪

DIARRA: Sorted through trash
and treasure.

So then,
he gives me a hood patch.

DIARRA: Bared witness to each
other without judgment

and gave voice
to our confessions.

It bothers me that I came
back to Detroit on some

get my power back, shit,
and you ended up saving me.

♪ You deserve ♪

♪ I'll take the weight if
it get heavy to hold ♪

♪ All on my own ♪

♪ Ooh ♪

♪ Walked through fire, but
our body never hit the flame ♪

♪ Oh, only you ♪

[moaning]

♪ Don't need no one else,
it's only you ♪

♪ Baby, you're the one,
always thinking of only you ♪

♪ What I would do for you,
only you ♪

♪ Only, only ♪

- Oh!
- Oh, come here.

Oh, shit.

- Ron's going to be pissed.
- Shit.

Wait a second.

This part is particle board.

Yeah, he made every dollhouse
on this block, bitch.

Yeah, I value craftsmanship.

It's a replica.

Lisa built a fake desk.

Wait, hold on a second.
There's something in here.

It's a queen.

DIARRA: I started
to notice a royal theme.

And where do queens live?

Castles.

More specifically,
Black Castle Coney Island.

This place
shut down during COVID,

but now all of a sudden,
everybody got a menu.

There's nothing on it.

Nothing you can see.

Black, white.

Hold on a second.

Queen, queen, queen.

CHRIS: Saturday, 10 p.m.
Bitcoin only.

- High bid wins.
- Wait a second.

Queen is
the key to read the menu.

Which is an invitation
to bid on the real desk.

Booker must have thought
Paul was lowballing him,

so he set up an auction.
Told you that nigga was slick.

Well, he's not the only one.

Lisa knew Booker wasn't coming.

She let us take this fake shit
because she was stalling us,

giving Booker time to
set up at Black Castle.

Then why all this cloak
and dagger bullshit?

I don't know.
These kids are fucking nuts.

Let's go.

Come on.

CHRIS: Where?

Don't tell me
you're not curious.

I'm more curious to see what
other furniture we can break.

It won't be the same
without you, baby.

I'm still hard.

Barbara Bush.
On the stripper, pole.

- I'll get my jacket.
- Come on, hurry up.

Look, I'm not that late.

I only missed my reservation
by like two and a half hours.

Come on, man.
This is ridiculous.

Danger?

Yeah, we missed it.

This is a ghost town.

You still want to look around?

Yeah.
We're definitely looking around.

After the day we had,
we were looking around.

Ugh!

You know what's pissing me off?

- What?
- We still don't know

- the damn baby's name.
- The baby's name?

Shit.

You ever think about
what you name your kid?

You still like Wolverine?

No, no.
I wouldn't name 'em.

- No.
- Why?

Not like that.
I wouldn't even have em'.

You know, I'm definitely more of
like the cool uncle type.

You don't want kids?

No, no, no, no, no.

This world
is fucked up as it is.

The last thing it needs
is more people

who can't protect themselves.

DIARRA: That's when I realized
what happened on that desk

didn't just break in.

It was breakup sex.

Wait. You want kids?

DIARRA: He was a great guy.

A dangerous obsession, but
not the father of my children.

And I knew right then
our third date...

Chris!

...would be our last.

We need to talk.

The hell--

- CHRIS: Run!
- DIARRA: Oh, my God.

CHRIS: Let's go, D.
Get in the car.

DIARRA: Oh, shit. [indistinct]

CHRIS: Get in the car!

- CHRIS: Get in the car!
- DIARRA: I am, Chris! I'm going!

Breakups are hard, but this
one would be a motherfucker.

♪

- KID: Mom!
- MOM: Shh, daddy is working!