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[after killing three bodyguards with his bare hands in a temper tantrum
: They shouldn't have called me a sissy.
[Stoned, walking into The Man's communications room
: This isn't Taco Bell! Oh, man...
: I *feel* black. Conspiracy Brother
: But you *look* white... don't touch me!
: You know what they say, behind every great black man... Conspiracy Brother
: is the police. Undercover Brother
: No. Smart Brother
: A bunch of slow white athletes? Undercover Brother
: No! White She-Devil
: A cute butt. Undercover Brother
: NO! Lance
: Probable cause.
] I... am not... a sissy!
: So let me get this straight; whenever a black guy does well, starts wearing Dockers, buys a few Celine Dion records, and sleeps with a White chick, you automatically say he's sold out? The Chief
: That's enough, Lance! Lance
: Always trying to shut the white man down. Conspiracy Brother
: THAT'S RIGHT! That's Right!... Oh, that ain't right.
: It looks like the Source Awards in here...
[Conspiracy Brother punches him
] Conspiracy Brother
: It does now!
: I have stood on the sidelines of race relations long enough! I want to march down that field of oppression and kick that ball of bigotry right over the goalpost of intolerance! The Chief
: Son, you talk a lot of shit. Lance
: Yes, I do. The Chief
: But you down.
: Chief, and various brother agents. I owe all of you a huge apology. I just watched a show, ummm, Roots, maybe you've heard of it? It taught me such a profound lesson about bigotry. I have stood on the sidelines of race relations long enough! I want to march down that field of oppression and kick that ball of bigotry right over the goalpost of intolerance!
: We gotta get the hell out of here! We're gonna die! We're all gonna die! Undercover Brother
: [slaps Lance
] Dig it...
[slaps him again
] Undercover Brother
: ... and dig it hard! Lance