Sunday, March 28, 2004
Hommage a OK FRED #4
[Five Points, Denver. A bum pushes a cart full of his belongings past Denver Meat Packing, a rundown warehouse. Sirens, gunshots, and a woman's screams are heard.]
Jimmy: Excuse me, sir. [the bum stops, startled] we're looking for a group of people called the Crips.
Bum: You are?
Jimmy: Do you know where they meet? We've already tried the rec center and the library.
Bum: The Crips hang out at that old warehouse down there, [points to the building he just passed] but ...nobody goes in there.
Jimmy: [moves forward] Oh, it's okay. We're Crips ourselves. Come on, Tim-Tim.
Timmy: Timmmih! [follows]
[Denver Meat Packing, inside. The music is thumping, there's gambling and general conversation going on. Jimmy and Timmy walks in]
Jimmy: Well hello everyone. [music abruptly stops] I'm Jim Swanson, and this is my friend Timmy.
Timmy: Timmmih! [awkward silence, then softly] Tih... ti-timmih.
Jimmy: [to a friend at left, as he points to the duo] Well, let us tell you a little bit about ourselves. Timmy and I are both true Crips, born and raised. We're the only Crips in South Park, where we live, and we would love to join your fa-fa-fabtasitc Denver chapter.
Large Crip: Is they for real, manh?
Jimmy: We just have one question before we join your c-club. Do you think it's better to be born a Crip, or to become a Crip later by accident?
Braided Crip: The only Crips is born Crips, dawg.
Tall Crip: Yeah, you can't become a Crip by accident, fool!
Jimmy: I agree. I mean, it's like [enunciates] "come on"! Why do these people who become crippled later in life think they're such great pot-potatuhs?
Timmy: Timmih! [silence]
Jimmy: Well, we're glad you see it our way, fellas. So can we join your g... group?
Buff Crip: All right, you wanna thug with the Five Point Crips? Bitches, all you gotta do is pop some punk-ass Bloods.
Jimmy: Well, sure. Tim and I would love to pop some punk-ass Bloods. We're terrific at it.
Timmy: Timmih?
Jimmy: [turns and answers softly] I don't know, Timmy, just play along.
Timmy: Uh-tu-Timmih!
Buff Crip: So you sayin' yuh down?
Jimmy: Down like a clown, Charlie Br... Down like a clown, Charlie B-broooowww... Down like a clown, Charlie Browh... Bro-uh-own. Down like a clown, Charlie Br-Brown. [music starts up again, and Timmy and Jimmy leave. As they walk down the street a rap song plays]
Jimmy: Say Timmy, did you notice that all the crippled people in that club are negros?
Timmy: Timmih!
Jimmy: That's an amm-mmazing coincidence. I mean, there's not one crippled colored person in South Park. [as they walk, a police car rolls up and the passenger-side officer calls out]
Officer: Hey you kids.
Jimmy: [stops and looks] Well hello, officers.
Officer: What the hell do you think you're doin'?
Jimmy: We're goin' to pop some punk-ass Bloods.
Timmy: Timmih! [the officers simply look at each other and drive off.]
Jimmy: [sees something] Look, Timmy. There's a convenience store. ["Ribs N Gass." A lot of gang members are milling around in front of the store] That must be what the fellas meant by "pop some punk-ass Bloods." They want us to get them some soda pop and treats. [the gang members notice them coming and stop to look. They cross the street] Let's buy them ginger ale and marshmallows. Then they'll let us in the club for sure.
Timmy: Oh, Timmih. [a truck appears in the distance and comes up fast.]
Driver: [noticing almost too late] Oh shit! [swerves to avoid the duo and slams into the convenience store they were trying to reach. The store and truck go up in a ball of flames while Jimmy and Timmy stop in their tracks]
Jimmy: Suh, suh, suh, suh, Sssunday driver!
[back at Denver Meat Packing, night. Jimmy and Timmy are back at the warehouse]
Buff Crip: Yo yo, listen up y'all! Let me tell you about my little Gs, Roller and 4 Legs here. They just smoked thirteen Bloods in one night!
Crip 1: One night?
Crip 2: You're kiddin'? You're kiddin'? One night?
Buff Crip: That ain't never been done before!
58 Crip: And they got us marshmallows and ginger ale.
Crips: [chattering] Uh huh. Cool. He's right.
Jimmy: So does that mean we can join the c-c...club?
Buff Crip: You're not just in, you're the baddest mofo Crips in town! Cipac! [a Crip steps forward] Turn up the beat so we can celebrate our new Gs Five-Points style!
Cipac: All right. [hobbles off]
Jimmy: Wow, these guys really are crippled. [the music starts up and the Crips start dancing] Timmy, I have a feeling that this is the start of something b-b-b-b...b-b-brilliant.
Timmy: Timmih!
Jimmy: Excuse me, sir. [the bum stops, startled] we're looking for a group of people called the Crips.
Bum: You are?
Jimmy: Do you know where they meet? We've already tried the rec center and the library.
Bum: The Crips hang out at that old warehouse down there, [points to the building he just passed] but ...nobody goes in there.
Jimmy: [moves forward] Oh, it's okay. We're Crips ourselves. Come on, Tim-Tim.
Timmy: Timmmih! [follows]
[Denver Meat Packing, inside. The music is thumping, there's gambling and general conversation going on. Jimmy and Timmy walks in]
Jimmy: Well hello everyone. [music abruptly stops] I'm Jim Swanson, and this is my friend Timmy.
Timmy: Timmmih! [awkward silence, then softly] Tih... ti-timmih.
Jimmy: [to a friend at left, as he points to the duo] Well, let us tell you a little bit about ourselves. Timmy and I are both true Crips, born and raised. We're the only Crips in South Park, where we live, and we would love to join your fa-fa-fabtasitc Denver chapter.
Large Crip: Is they for real, manh?
Jimmy: We just have one question before we join your c-club. Do you think it's better to be born a Crip, or to become a Crip later by accident?
Braided Crip: The only Crips is born Crips, dawg.
Tall Crip: Yeah, you can't become a Crip by accident, fool!
Jimmy: I agree. I mean, it's like [enunciates] "come on"! Why do these people who become crippled later in life think they're such great pot-potatuhs?
Timmy: Timmih! [silence]
Jimmy: Well, we're glad you see it our way, fellas. So can we join your g... group?
Buff Crip: All right, you wanna thug with the Five Point Crips? Bitches, all you gotta do is pop some punk-ass Bloods.
Jimmy: Well, sure. Tim and I would love to pop some punk-ass Bloods. We're terrific at it.
Timmy: Timmih?
Jimmy: [turns and answers softly] I don't know, Timmy, just play along.
Timmy: Uh-tu-Timmih!
Buff Crip: So you sayin' yuh down?
Jimmy: Down like a clown, Charlie Br... Down like a clown, Charlie B-broooowww... Down like a clown, Charlie Browh... Bro-uh-own. Down like a clown, Charlie Br-Brown. [music starts up again, and Timmy and Jimmy leave. As they walk down the street a rap song plays]
Jimmy: Say Timmy, did you notice that all the crippled people in that club are negros?
Timmy: Timmih!
Jimmy: That's an amm-mmazing coincidence. I mean, there's not one crippled colored person in South Park. [as they walk, a police car rolls up and the passenger-side officer calls out]
Officer: Hey you kids.
Jimmy: [stops and looks] Well hello, officers.
Officer: What the hell do you think you're doin'?
Jimmy: We're goin' to pop some punk-ass Bloods.
Timmy: Timmih! [the officers simply look at each other and drive off.]
Jimmy: [sees something] Look, Timmy. There's a convenience store. ["Ribs N Gass." A lot of gang members are milling around in front of the store] That must be what the fellas meant by "pop some punk-ass Bloods." They want us to get them some soda pop and treats. [the gang members notice them coming and stop to look. They cross the street] Let's buy them ginger ale and marshmallows. Then they'll let us in the club for sure.
Timmy: Oh, Timmih. [a truck appears in the distance and comes up fast.]
Driver: [noticing almost too late] Oh shit! [swerves to avoid the duo and slams into the convenience store they were trying to reach. The store and truck go up in a ball of flames while Jimmy and Timmy stop in their tracks]
Jimmy: Suh, suh, suh, suh, Sssunday driver!
[back at Denver Meat Packing, night. Jimmy and Timmy are back at the warehouse]
Buff Crip: Yo yo, listen up y'all! Let me tell you about my little Gs, Roller and 4 Legs here. They just smoked thirteen Bloods in one night!
Crip 1: One night?
Crip 2: You're kiddin'? You're kiddin'? One night?
Buff Crip: That ain't never been done before!
58 Crip: And they got us marshmallows and ginger ale.
Crips: [chattering] Uh huh. Cool. He's right.
Jimmy: So does that mean we can join the c-c...club?
Buff Crip: You're not just in, you're the baddest mofo Crips in town! Cipac! [a Crip steps forward] Turn up the beat so we can celebrate our new Gs Five-Points style!
Cipac: All right. [hobbles off]
Jimmy: Wow, these guys really are crippled. [the music starts up and the Crips start dancing] Timmy, I have a feeling that this is the start of something b-b-b-b...b-b-brilliant.
Timmy: Timmih!
