["Child Please" by Tierra Whack plays]
♪ Kicked up ♪
♪ I was 13, I was working ♪
♪ Tryna get my hands on The first ding-a-ling ♪
♪ I was lurking We were flirting ♪
♪ Baby boy, mmm Can you be my king, king ♪
♪ Kicked up ♪
- ♪ I been watching you ♪ - ♪ Watching ♪
♪ Kicked up ♪
It's on the house,
you little chocolate croissant, you.
Nothing's free, Brooke.
Like my mommy always says,
"There's more in the mortar than the pestle."
Well, like I always say,
"Pussy over patriarchy."
What you need to do is begin every sentence with "trigger warning."
Got a big one.
Again?
Yeah, it's my favorite part of writing for Pastiche.
Only getting coffee.
I asked for almond milk.
My bubble guts indicate that you cowed me.
- Here we go, gentlemen. - And lady.
I don't see gender.
I've got the latest issue,
hot off the press.
Now, I don't normally do praise, but...
tipping my cap to Troy.
My dude made the cover of his first issue.
Never could have done a piece like this without you.
[applause]
["WAKE UP!" by DUCKWRTH plays]
♪ One, two, three, wake up! ♪
[vocalizing]
♪ Wake up! ♪
[vocalizing continues]
♪ Aww, yeah! ♪
♪ Wake up!
Kurt's never nice to new guys.
What do you got on him?
- He... liked the piece I wrote? - [scoffs]
It can't be that.
You are a hotter, smarter,
more unproblematically charming version of him.
He can't beat you,
so he's joining you.
There were a lot of compliments in there, but it still hurt.
Same puppet, new strings.
Please tell me Kanye West changed his name to Troy Fairbanks
and started writing for Pastiche.
Couldn't help himself.
Damn, nigga.
Why?
Hey, Troy!
Psst!
Yo, did you, uh, read my story?
Depends if...
Will there be any follow-up questions?
Man, what did you think?
I just...
I feel like it went over folks' heads.
Maybe.
Maybe, at best, it reads as though you have a...
third-grade understanding of affirmative action.
"We all know with a name like Tyrone on the res,
white folks...
ain't called my black ass back.
So I should just get high and go to DeVry in peace." What?
Well, he took out all the context,
where I make fun of white folks who complain
about affirmative action denying them opportunities.
This motherfucker.
Bro, he took out all the white stuff and now it's just a black guy
who's shitting on affirmative action.
Yes, it is.
This shit was supposed to be satirical!
It's more of a farce.
Which will prompt similar states of exaggeration.
It serves a different agenda,
emphasizing entertainment...
over social commentary?
Are you going to just let me peter out or will you interrupt me, for God's sake?
Yo, Troy.
I thought you disappointing folks was a thing of the past.
I guess retro shit's in.
- Uh-uh. - Mmm.
That's your I-can't-stay-for-grits I-gotta-go face.
I know.
But stay, have fun. I know how you love denigrating Troy.
Eh, it's lost its thrill.
Mmm. Well, tomorrow night, I'm all yours.
I will hang on your every word,
I will lavish you with love and laughter,
and even...
[inaudible speech]
Oh. Okay, okay. I'll see you tomorrow night.
I can't believe Kurt sandbagged me.
He put his testicles on your face?
I've heard of abuses of power, but...
- It's "tea bagged," Lionel. - Oh, right.
Bro, my version
was all about making fun of anyone who'd argue against affirmative action.
It was nuanced and had pathos
and the shit was funny.
Now I sound like a ComicView clip that's aged poorly.
Egad. And those don't age at all.
You want me to beat Kurt up?
Or, more realistically, outsource it to Al?
I mean, Kurt looked me in the face and said,
"We could've never done a piece like this without you."
You're their Get Out of Racism Free card.
- A mascot for... - Ain't nobody talking to you, Abigail.
- You don't know me like that. - Sorry.
And here we go.
- I know what you're going to say. - You do?
You didn't want me to join Pastiche.
Not at first.
And I shouldn't be stepping and/or fetching for white laughs,
and even though I've reached a goal, it comes with responsibilities.
The world wasn't made for me, so I have to work twice as hard,
blah, blah, blah.
Well, as long as it doesn't have anything to do with fountains and genitals,
I... I think it's a step in the right direction.
I get it. I can't trust them to do the right thing,
so I have to just talk to Kurt and demand what's fair.
Damn.
That's exactly what I would have said.
I thought you were tuning me out all those years.
Well, I'll let you know how it goes.
Son.
The reason I called you here...
Do these jeans look ridiculous?
Oh.
You know what? I'm going for the...
the more casual, you know, connect-to-the-student kind of thing.
- Okay. - Hmm?
Okay, yeah, everyone's going to be like,
"Hey, who's the new sophomore who came back to college
due to a midlife crisis?"
Yeah, see, see, I knew it. I'm trying too hard.
Ah, no, Pops.
- You look good. - Really?
Oh, shit! Dad's got a girlfriend!
♪ Dad's got a girlfriend ♪
Ain't got no girlfriend! Get out of here!
- [laughs] - See, you stopped worrying about my dirt,
so now you got time for your own.
Use a rubber, son.
[laughs]
- Hi! How's it going? - Have a good one.
All right.
- Oh, organic chem. Good for you. - Thanks.
- Hey! - Hi.
- Working hard or hardly working? - Working hard.
Got your usual for you.
My man.
[barista] I got a red eye, for Jen.
She's in the bathroom.
Who?
["I'm a Good Man" by Renaldo Domino plays]
♪ I'm a good man ♪
- Someone's sitting there. - Well, then I'll just sit over here, then.
Walter.
I'm messing with you.
[laughs]
You're a sly one, Sandra.
Busy day?
The Ivy League paradox.
Assign a 20-page paper,
watch the overachievers struggle to cram all their genius
into such draconian confines.
Mmm. Hell, there goes your weekend.
I stop reading after page 20.
I only grade what I assign.
Don't write me up.
I would never.
Well, you're teaching them a very valuable lesson.
And safeguarding my Martha's Vineyard me time this weekend.
These kids will not turn Inkwell into Thinkwell.
[laughing]
Thinkwell, Inkwell!
That's brilliant!
That's a beautiful dress you're wearing. It's...
Stop school-sponsored slave labor.
Honestly?
I'm jealous.
You're the hardworking everyman now.
Three jobs, a grad thesis. When you write your memoir,
this is going to be a really humanizing chapter.
- I haven't slept in 48 hours. - Yeah.
Well, my biggest hurdle this year
was trying to organize my birthday at my parents' Cape house.
Then I find out they gave it to my Aunt Bethany that weekend.
It really rocked me.
Maybe you should get back to work.
Normally I'm turned on by strong women.
Now!
And this is not an exception.
Winchester's TAs are paid the lowest rates in the Ivy by 50%.
We need a living wage.
Please, come support tomorrow night. It's important.
Thank you.
I offered you one and you treated me like a Jehovah's Witness.
No shade. They are doing the Lord's work.
A very specific version of the Lord.
Can I have another one, please?
Thank you.
[Kelsey] Is Brooke even a lesbian?
Or is she just a...
sexual tourist?
Fuck how she identifies.
- Get your face between them thighs. - [sighs]
Ooh, that's a fire-ass hook!
- SoundCloud, get your ass ready! - She's right, Kelsey.
I'd have to hear it in the context of the song.
- Sorry, Jennifer. - No, I mean... do you like Brooke?
I'm...
intrigued.
Then go for it.
And if she is just a tourist,
then take her out to the Bronx and show her where the Battery is.
I just made a pop culture reference.
- From the '40s. - You're right.
I've been way too binary.
I'm about to switch it up into seduce mode.
No, wait. Too thirsty.
Allure mode.
Ugh. Can we change topics, please?
I am not versed in lesbian drama.
Mmm. You're not any kind of verse, Miss Keisha Lance Bottoms.
[laughing]
First the closet now your shell? Happy coming out day!
Michael's... positive?
Yeah, he's a super optimistic guy.
No.
I know what "positive" means. I work in a mobile health truck.
But at 22?
It must be hard.
And now I still feel like I'm on TA duty.
Where is your alcohol?
Oh, I have some in the bathroom, but it's for cuts and bruises.
Back in your shell.
Also, there's beer in the bathtub.
Beer?
Ohh!
She a butch queen! Butch!
It's Troy's, so go easy.
[male voice] Please leave Abigail out of this, man.
Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Wait... Lionel.
I detect heterosexualities. What's happening?
Troy's having a ki, or whatever you call the straight equivalent.
A brodown.
She doesn't get to talk in the group, so nobody would know.
Joining!
Totes fluent in barbershop talk.
Jay-Z, football, bitches. Et cetera.
Sorry, guys!
I told them you were having a ki... onversation in here.
Yeah, we were just ki-onversating
about Troy's Pastiche situation.
"Situation." That's kind.
I'd say "fiasco." "Debacle."
Is "cataclysm" hyperbolic?
Greetings, whoever you are drinking my beer.
- This library is closed. - Aww.
But my Kindle is charged all the way up.
And this is delicious. Thank you.
I assumed Kurt hijacked your piece?
Just plays right into what everyone already thought of me.
Kurt is your friend.
Tell him that his actions are unacceptable,
and that he must never betray your trust again
if the friendship is to remain intact.
Hmm.
I'm kidding. Fuck that nigga.
Appealing to better angels is pointless with a sexy white devil,
but my usual alternative might not be up your alley.
It's sex, isn't it?
It is sex.
Fuck Pastiche. Burn that bitch to the ground.
If you're not going to own your own shit,
use your access, fix the system from the inside.
Your beloved Obama tried that and failed.
James,
please leave.
- I was literally here first. - I know.
And it's bumming us all out.
Put them all on blast,
show the school what racist dicks they are,
create a power vacuum, then take over.
No. You need to punch those motherfuckers in all they throats.
Nah. They mad weird about throat-punches at this school.
I don't get it either.
Well, I...
I guess, I hope, this impromptu Situation Room was helpful.
We'll leave. We should leave. We should leave.
So all the new congresswomen's menstrual cycles sync up,
and they go on a murderous rampage in a session.
Of course, menopausal Pelosi participates so she doesn't feel left out.
So, the punchline is that women are awful.
- And efficient at governing. - [Kurt] Solid.
- Uh, Troy, you got something? - New news.
"Butt implants recalled,
VMAs canceled."
But first I've got to air a grievance.
Hey, man. Look, I'm sorry, okay? About all the black guy big-dick jokes.
Listen, I'm happy to pull mine out and prove that God has also blessed
the melanin-deficient.
And that was the day I became an atheist.
Actually, it's about my cover piece.
Your edit completely changed the message.
I mean, your version...
and I'm not just being precious with my shit...
your version made me look like an Uncle Tom.
- You're my boy, so I know... - You're really doing this in public?
It's a Pastiche problem, so I'm doing it at a Pastiche meeting.
Which I graciously invited you to join after you forced me to read your material.
That's not how it went down, but what's the point of bringing me on
if readers don't trust me because they think I'm a sellout?
I go over every piece of material to maintain tonal consistency.
That's my job. And I'm killing it.
Yeah, well, that was before I joined.
I put you on the cover, man.
Oh.
So I should be thankful I'm your black mascot?
So what you're saying, in front of my entire staff,
is that you want to be treated differently than everybody else.
No.
I'm just saying you have a blind spot when it comes to my perspective.
Oh.
I see, because you're black, you want preferential treatment.
Why didn't you just say that?
- I'm not trying to say that. - Nate, you have a spastic colon.
Should I do anything special for you?
Not sharing my medical information would be a start.
Oh, well...
Too late for that now, I guess.
I owe you an apology.
Oh!
I see somebody's finally talking to Abigail.
You know, the myth of meritocracy should be a required course at every Ivy.
So...
if you're Hillary Clinton's fake laugh...
then what am I?
To them,
you're an alien.
A poised, articulate black man
who doesn't fit into stereotypes.
They can't process your existence on Earth.
Keep fighting the good fight.
The Clintons and aliens will inherit the earth.
It's in the Bible.
You coming in?
Hey.
Where's Gabe?
It wasn't my turn to watch him.
Well, I brought him some food since you made him work late.
Is he on break?
Um, he's not working tonight.
That's weird. He said he'd be here.
Was there a last minute schedule change or...
Sam, I really don't want to get into other people's business.
Bitch, you live in other people's business.
I know.
I just like the power of withholding information.
[chuckles]
I think he went here.
Why would he lie?
Damn.
The white ones ain't shit either.
Because with wages this low,
only wealthy grad students can afford to be TAs,
and that means that students are missing out on, you know,
working class perspectives from their professors.
Thank you.
No shade, but what the hell do you know about working class struggles?
Uh, well, for one, that was all shade, Sharon.
I... I'll admit, yeah...
I... I grew up with money that I didn't earn.
Uh, my parents are Republicans,
so of course they trusted the economic theories of the people they voted for,
and lost everything.
As I mentioned, my parents are Republicans.
Look, the TA money alone just... it doesn't do the trick.
Okay? I got two extra jobs.
I still can't afford to pay for my grad film,
let alone my tuition for next semester.
I never sleep,
and it's like I'm in a long-distance relationship,
and my girlfriend fucking goes here.
So I'm invested.
And I want to help.
So, you didn't start caring about this until, like, yesterday? [chuckles]
Got it.
Enjoy your poor tour.
Ooh.
It is springtime outside,
but it is chilly in here
from all of the shade.
I know. No.
Sam, I'm sorry.
For what?
- You're really going to make me say it? - You're really going to fight me on this?
- I'm sorry I lied about working tonight. - Among other things.
You and I never really talked about money.
Don't try that sin of omission bullshit, Gabe.
Wait, hold on.
I know how you see the world.
I was afraid if you knew just how much we had...
That I wouldn't let you in?
- What does that say about me? - We all have biases.
I fucking hate being judged on my demographics.
You really think I'd do that to you?
No... To boyfriend Gabe, no,
but to hot-TA-I-have a-reluctant-crush-on Gabe, yeah.
Hot?
Okay, cute.
- No, you know you fine. - Oh, shit.
But how much money are we talking?
Oh, well, my parents were the ones who sold the island to Jerry Skyler.
I'm not laughing.
Look, Sam, if you had looked at me the way that they just looked at me in there,
it would've killed me.
- It would've killed us. - Before there was an us.
I didn't know how much money you had.
Though I kind of assumed you didn't have much.
You were earnest and hardworking
and socially conscious and...
your wardrobe.
Yours is not the wardrobe of a wealthy man.
You just couldn't help yourself, could you?
Gabe...
money will never factor into love for me.
Just... presents.
Lots of presents.
That were never purchased for me with all this money you done had.
- That said... - I knew it was too easy.
...if you ever lie to me again,
I am not extending the Angela Bassett courtesy
of burning your shit in the driveway.
I'm going full Left Eye Lopes on that ass.
There have to be more recent references for revenge arson.
So, like...
was there...
an armed guard at the entrance to your neighborhood?
Oh, fucking God.
- Did you board planes on a tarmac? - What?
- Or was there a jetway involved? - You're ridiculous.
- How much money... - Hey.
That took courage.
That was awful.
Both can be true.
But please, come back.
Just don't talk about yourself.
Or better yet, lie.
Okay.
Bye, Gabe.
- Who the hell is that? - That's nobody.
- We don't care about her. - It ain't... You right, it's nobody.
- You nobody! - We don't care about her.
Oh, uh, thanks, Kelsey, but I...
I work in a coffee shop.
Look at the foam, foolie.
Oh. Is...
that a no smoking sign?
Ohh.
So no one's ordering or making coffee,
we're just chatting.
Cool.
It's supposed to be kissy lips,
but it's a long walk from the other coffee shop.
Anyway, you were very sweet to me, and...
I was rude.
Maybe there's more in this mortar.
Hopefully there is no more in this conversation, girl.
I am feeling harassed and under-caffeinated.
[scoffs] Buh-bye.
[sighs]
Can I have a latt...
A latte.
Kurt should have pulled you aside to harangue you,
like he does me.
He harangues you in public constantly.
You've never heard the things he's said in private.
When someone shows you who they are, stab them in the front.
You guys are both editors. Does he rake over your shit like that?
Oh, yeah. My therapist told me it's to create, like, a communal spirit.
Like we speak with one voice.
A voice that sounds uncannily like Kurt's.
Dude, I put so much into what I do.
I once took a story about the science school's rush
to publish flawed peer reviews,
and I laid it out perfectly
in the shape of boobs.
And then here comes Kurt!
Troy, you're new,
but think of it this way.
Soon, the unyielding manipulations of your best efforts
by talentless overlords will form a callus
over the joy and passion you once had for writing,
and then, my friend, you'll be ready to write for television.
Mornin', massa!
Excuse me?
That's how you address labor exploiters.
And as a TA, it feels quite apropos.
Son.
Our TAs are absolutely paid...
Peanuts!
And I'm allergic.
Our administration prides itself
on honoring and valuing all of our employees.
You're supposed to represent our interests to the administration,
yet you sweep our concerns under the rug
so that the plantation runs smoothly!
Dean of Students?
Try Dean of Slaves.
I am uncomfortable with that metaphor.
And I'm uncomfortable trying to get an education,
helping other students with theirs,
driving for Lyft, tutoring,
and still wondering how I'm gon' pay my rent.
But I'm guessing all your bills is paid!
Is this a read? Am I being read?
And we're coming for you.
Like when the Greatest Generation stormed the beaches of Normandy.
I was a slave owner,
now I'm a Nazi.
Yeah!
Why don't you come by my office, and we'll continue this discussion
using our inside voices
and less problematic anecdotes.
Never.
Oh.
He was so excited about those jeans.
Sorry to call out your pops.
But sometimes folks need to get sliced and diced.
And I stays with a razor blade under my tongue.
Cute shirt.
[Mitch] I got to come to this coffee shop more.
So, the Kurt thing...
What are we going to do?
I think I've got an idea.
Ohh.
Let's stare at him in anticipation until he finally tells us.
["Get Up Get Out" by Born Dirty plays]
♪ You are the motherfucking shit ♪
♪ You are great ♪
♪ Get up, get out Get, get, get out ♪
♪ Get up ♪
♪ Born dirty ♪
♪ Up ♪
♪ Out ♪
♪ Out, up ♪
♪ Out ♪
♪ Get up, get out Get, get, get out ♪
♪ Get up ♪
♪ Born dirty ♪
♪ Up ♪
♪ Out ♪
♪ Up, out ♪
♪ Out, up, out ♪
♪ Up, out ♪
[woman] Woo-hoo! [laughs]
[neon buzzing]