Craig and Day Day have finally moved out of their parents houses and into their own crib. The cousins work nights at a local mall as security guards. When their house is robbed on Christmas... See full summary¬†¬Ľ

Damon: Craig and Day-Day.
Day-Day: Ohh...
Damon: Just the niggas I need to see.
Craig Jones: Yo, yo... what's up O.G. Triple O.G... O.G. triple... triple O.G.?
Day-Day: You got out last night?
Damon: I haven't seen ya'll in about 12 years, nigga.
Day-Day: I know, I was little...
Damon: You're grown up now, though. Give a nigga a hug, dog.
Day-Day: I'm about to go...
[Craig grabs Day-Day and runs him into Damon]
Damon: [Damnon grabs Day-Day] Yeah, man. It's cool, dog. It's cool. Come here. Yeah, right there.
Damon: [Damon looks at Craig] Group hug, nigga!
Day-Day: Come on, Craig!
[Craig walks to Damon]
Craig Jones: What's up, dog.
Damon: What's up, nigga.
Damon: It's good to be home. 'Cause in prison dog, hey... ain't nothing but the fellas, nigga.
Day-Day: I heard.
Craig Jones: [beaten up Moly walks in Barbeque restaurant] Daaaamn!
Day-Day: [imitating Moly] Someone call 9-1-1
Mr. Jones: Moly... you got knocked the fuck out!
Moly: Oh, good observation, buddy.
[looks to Craig and Day-Day]
Moly: Where were you buddies, huh?
Craig Jones: We was on our lunch break.
Day-Day: Trying to get something to eat, so we can secure this nasty-ass lot.
Moly: Good, good, good... you were eating while I was getting beating.
Day-Day: Looks like somebody beat the bricks off your motherfucking ass.
Moly: You are supposed to be a security guard, buddy, no?
Day-Day: [pretending to be olivious] We are security, ain't that a bitch?
Craig Jones: We are security guards.
Sister Sarah: [after being accosted by Craig and Day-Day] Let's go in the church and we're gonna pray for these niggas.
Day-Day: All want Santa Claus is two fat bitches and a bag of weed and two bag of chips to give to the fat bitches
Money Mike: Hold up, wait a minute, let me put some pimpin' in it.
Craig Jones: You can't talk to people like that. That's somebody's grandmama, fool.
Day-Day: I can talk to anybody any fuckin' way I wanna talk to 'em. I'm the law around here, and I'm gonna write yo ass up for insubordination. So let me do my job and you do yours. Top flight!
Day-Day: One of them said they was gonna suck my dick from the back. I'm tryin' to see what that be like!
Mr. Jones: I look better than you!
Uncle Elroy: You don't!
Mr. Jones: I cook better than you!
Uncle Elroy: You can't!
Mr. Jones: My dick is bigger than yours!
Uncle Elroy: It was cold that night!
Cookie: Oh, I heard about him. They call him the Santa Claus Crook or the Santa Claus Crip or something like that. He robbed a lady out in the parking lot last night, called her a "ho ho ho" and kept on running.
Day-Day: Who the fuck are you?
Day-Day: It ain't ya booty, it's ya beauty.
Santa Claus: Gimme that watch!
[Elroy's Rolex]
Uncle Elroy: Oh, no. Not the Roley!
Santa Claus: Now it's a Stoley. Gimme the watch! Looking like a Mississippi pimp. Bitch better have my sweet potatoes. Ho, ho, ho, Top Flight Security. Merry christmas motherfucker!
Day-Day: All I want is two fat bitches that smell like cheeeseburgers so Chico can lick on'em, and a two year supply of rolling paper.
Damon: Got my shank in case shit jump off in this motherfucker.
Money Mike: [Damon splashes water on Money Mike] Did you pee on me?
Damon: Wake yo' bitch-ass up, lucky charms. I like my fish wet and squirmy.
Money Mike: I thought I was dreaming. You almost drowned me, nigga.
Damon: Oh, you're dreaming. This is a wet dream.
Officer Hole: This is Officer Brian Dix. I'm Officer Alvin Hole, and we'll let you know if anything develops.
Craig Jones: [looks at card] Officer A. Hole and B. Dix.
Officer Hole: We'll call you.
Uncle Elroy: [catching Craig and Day-Day smoking weed] Let me hit that before Willie bring his old square ass out here.
Old man w/ shotgun: Stay outta my collard greens and my mustard greens and my chronic greens!
Craig Jones: That's right. Got my ass back in the projects. The only place where you get robbed by Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.
Money Mike: [while holding Damon's balls with a vice grips] Are you a music lover, Damon?
Damon: Y... yes
Money Mike: Well, have you ever heard of the nutcracker?
[squeezes Damon's balls with the vice grips]
Mr. Jones: Think of this: last year around this time you'd won the lotto. Over a million dollars. Anybody else would be livin' in the French Riviera. You back here kickin' with me at Bros. Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-barbecue.
Day-Day: [to Elroy] Daddy, he gon' shoot yo ass! Get up the damn wall!
Money Mike: Let me check my palm pilot.
[looks at the palm of his hand]
Money Mike: Looks like I ain't doin' shit.
Money Mike: Don't drag that coat, it cost more than you!
Day-Day: Man, What about the fine ass hos I had coming here. They said they were gonna fuck for a buck, do something strange for a little piece of change, and I know we're gonna make them Holler for a dollar. One of 'em said they'd suck my dick from the back. I ain't never had that, ever happen to me, I'm trying to see what that be like. Badaba badaba ba.
Craig Jones: You need to work on yo people skills.
Day-Day: That's some bullshit. My people skills are way better than yours, nigga.
Officer Dix: Open up, let's do this.
Officer Hole: [imitating Willie] Put down the b-b-b-b-b-b-barbecue!
Day-Day: Damn, Daddy, you got another one? You gon' catch something.
Craig Jones: [to Officer A. Hole] Do your fuckin job!
Craig Jones: [after Santa got hit by Pinky's limo] Should I tell him?
Day-Day: Let's both tell him.
Craig Jones, Day-Day: You got knocked da FUCK out!
Craig Jones: Biatch!
Craig Jones: About a year ago, my pops quit his dog-catching job and went into business with my uncle Elroy. They ran this spot called Brothers Barbecue. Taste so good, make you wanna slap yo' mama. You might have seen the commercial.
Uncle Elroy: Ya'll tired of eatin' that barbecue from up the street? Where they give you more sauce than they give you meat? Then bring your big ass down to Bros. Barbecue, 15837 South Crenshaw Boulevard, that's right off Manchester. Bros. Barbecue, tastes so good, make you wanna slap yo' mama! Don't it, Willie?
Mr. Jones: Yeah, boy! Hey, mama?
Grandma Jones: What the hell you want, Willie?
[Willie slaps her]
Uncle Elroy: Ain't but one location, so it's nearest you.
Craig Jones: You might have missed it. They only had enough money for a 15-second spot. Well, my pops hooked us up with a job as Christmas help security.
Money Mike: Do y'all got a bathroom up in here? I gotta piss like a Russian racehorse at the Kentucky Derby with a glue truck behind it.
Damon: [looking at Money Mike with crazed lust] Craig, introduce me to yo' friend.
Craig Jones: How is she gonna like you when she like me?
Day-Day: Because she hadn't seen me yet.
Craig Jones: I wish I hadn't seen you yet.
Pinky: [Pinky's limo hit Santa Claus; to C.W] Ain't playin' with you, nugga. Didn't I tell you I was gonna fire yo ass if you hit someone else!
C.W.: No, I didn't hear that part, Pinky.
Pinky: After you hit that little retarded boy with the fucked up walk!
Pinky: You costin' me money, C.W.
Craig Jones: [after Mrs. Pearly seduced Willie and his wife walked in on them] Whoop his ass, Mama! Whoop his ass, Mama.
[to Mrs. Pearly]
Craig Jones: Pearly, you ain't right. Tryin' to give my daddy VD.
Mrs. Pearly: I'm callin' the police on y'all, fool!
Craig Jones: Get that lined up too first, bitch!
Craig Jones: [narrating] Man, I couldn't believe how Day-Day was actin'. Ever since he got that whistle 'round his neck, he been actin' like a real asshole rent-a-cop. Look at him.
Old man w/ shotgun: Come on out there! I know you're in here!
Old man w/ shotgun: Respect my gangster!
Craig Jones: I convince Donna's fine ass to come back to the party. I got her in my room, slid the dresser behind the door, and got myself a early Christmas present.
[door closes]
Craig Jones: *You know*!
Day-Day: You like 'cause your son is a fag?
Santa Claus: [taking Day Day's baby picture] That's a ugly-ass baby. Eyes cocked like a pistol.
Craig Jones: [after Day-Day walks in on he and Donna; Donna gets up to leave] Man, I ain't never gonna get no pussy.
Craig Jones: [getting robbed] I ain't got nothin' but twenty funky-ass dollars.
Santa Claus: Oughta shoot yo broke ass.
Santa Claus: [robbing Craig and Day-Day's refrigerator] Damn, these niggas are broke. Got no Christmas ham in here...
Mrs. Pearly: Oh yeah, Craig, tell yo fine daddy I said Hiiiiiiii.
[leaves apartment]
Craig Jones: [shudders and slams the door after her] Hate that bitch!
Money Mike: Crunching on your balls in a one horsed open sleigh.
Craig Jones: Ho-ho, Motherfucker!
Money Mike: [Craig hands him back his razor] Never know when I might need this. Might come in handy. Might wanna shave. Might wanna shave somebody else. Never know.
Craig Jones: Get yo titty off my chin.
Day-Day: I ain't goin'.
Craig Jones: Stop being so scary. All our stuff might be in there.
Day-Day: I'm not... why you always got to be a hero, man? Take your... go on over there, I'll bet something bite you in the ass. I'm not going.
Craig Jones: I don't wanna get bit in the ass.
Pinky: [outside the bathroom door] Say, nugga! This is Pinky, nuggah, I got to go pee-pee!
Crime Brother #2: Yo, where the rent-a-cops at?
Craig Jones: Tasha, how do we look?
Tasha: Like a couple of rent-a-cops.
Day-Day: What about them rented titties?
Day-Day: [re: Craig] This my big-head ass cousin. You know, Bevo Lotti, got mo head than he got body.
Day-Day: With that big ol' wolf pussy.
Officer #3: Oh yeah, you got a big pile of dog shit in the middle of your bed back there. Might wanna check that out.
Old man w/ shotgun: Next time I'm gonna shoot at the one that winks and not the one that stinks.
Mrs. Jones: [Mrs. Pearly has seduced Willie] Willie, get yo ass off that heifer!
Mr. Jones: Betty!
Craig Jones: Daddy, get yo ass off that heifer!
Girl Driver: I ain't never heard no policy like that.
Day-Day: Well you never met a top-flight security nigga like me.
Mr. Johnson: [deleted scene] I want you to change my ASS!
Damon: [while Money Mike has plyers on his testicles] ya know maybe we can get to know each other
Money Mike: Shut up! The hell you talkin bout! I am a boy! You are not in prison anymore Damon! Thats not how we do it!
[Squeezes plyers]
Craig Jones: [walks into kitchen to discover Burglar dressed as Santa Claus eating a sandwich]
Craig Jones: What the hell you doing in my house; eating a big ass sandwich and shit?
Santa Claus: Nigga, I'm Santa Claus; where the FUCK the milk and cookies?
Craig Jones: [to Elroy and Willie] Y'all argue too much. Damn. Maybe y'all should get married.
Craig Jones: We the victims, man. We the victims.
Officer Hole: That victim shit is way overblown. Just sit there and shut up.
Craig Jones: [sotto] Asshole.
Craig Jones: Man, I don't know if I can handle another goddamn Friday. This shit hurt.
Craig Jones: Jumpin' up like you Mr. Get Bad. Where da fuck was you when he was beatin' my ass wit dat tree?
Craig Jones: You heard what happened to the last security guards.
Day-Day: You didn't even hear what happened to the last security guards, so how da fuck is I'm gonna hear it?
Moly: [after Day-Day, Craig and Elroy got mugged by Santa] You're supposed to be security, buddy.
Day-Day: That's why I asked yo ass for the two flashlights.
[Moly and the two cops start laughing]
Day-Day: That's why I hate the fucking law. Get yo fat ass up and go do something about this. You get up too! Gotta get us those flashlights or we gonna get killed around here!
Day-Day: Why'd you fire me, Pinky?
Pinky: I had to! You were always late, fool.
Bad Boy #1: Man he don't look like no reindeer, he look like a pit bull. Giddy up pit bull.
Uncle Elroy: You better stop jumpin' up and down before I have to bite you or something.
Bad Boy #1: Can you lock your jaws and shake like a pit bull.
Uncle Elroy: Yeah, want me to show you?
[repeated line]
Mr. Jones: Yeah, boy!
Day-Day: [to a trio of elderly carolers] Y'all are trying to use the lord to sell pussy on this corner.
Damon: Y'all look good in y'all little tight-ass rent-a-cop outfits. Merry Christmas, niggettes.
Money Mike: Can I help you?
Crime Brother #1: No.
Money Mike: No? Well this ain't the Baby Gap.
Craig Jones: Yo, Mama. Big Mama, you alright?
Grandma Jones: Who are you?
Craig Jones: It's Craig, Mama. Your oldest grandson. The smart one. Not Day-Day.
Pinky: [after hitting Santa Claus with the limo] He's still breathing. Get yo ass back in the car. Come on, nugga!
C.W.: Right, motherfucker.
Officer Hole: Makes me wanna go home and lock up all my shit.
Mr. Jones: [to Moly] Hope your camel got a ticket outside.
Day-Day: You oughta be nervous. You a black cop.
Officer Dix: For the second time, y'all got jacked by Santa Claus?
Day-Day: Yeah.
Officer Hole: Black guy, wasn't it?
Day-Day: No, this was a nigga that did this.
Money Mike: [coming out of the apartment, holding Damon's nuts in a vice grip. A crowd of people has gathered] I want everybody back! There's gon' be ball juice everywhere!
Mrs. Pearly: So how much do you really love your boy?
Mr. Jones: Not enough to pay his fucking rent. I have enough trouble paying my own damn rent.
Mr. Jones: Have you seen our commercial?
Moly: No, buddy.
Mr. Jones: Bros. Barbecue taste so good, make you wanna slap yo mama!
[slaps Moly. Moly slaps him back. Willie slaps Moly again. Moly slaps back again]
Moly: Hey buddy.
Mr. Jones: Moly, what the fuck wrong with you?
Craig Jones: Day-Day, we only security guards, okay? Ghetto security guards at that. We ain't Cops, we ain't America's Most Wanted, N.Y.P.D. Blue, none of that shit you watch.
Day-Day: Something like that.
Craig Jones: No, nothing like that.
Money Mike: I was just gonna get drunk and watch the Grinch, so I'll be there.
Day-Day: Hey, I wanna ask you a question.
Moly: Okay, what?
Day-Day: When we get our guns?
Moly: Oh, no, no guns. You are top-flight unarmed security guards.
Craig Jones: What about walkie talkies?
Day-Day: And some flashlights. In case we catch some girl giving up some head right in the back behind the trash cans, I could come back there with the flashlight and catch her.
Moly: You guys are supposed to be big, tough guys. You don't need all these gidgets-gadgets, huh. All you need is this here.
[hands them whistles]
Moly: If there are any problems, you just blow. Toot-toot!
Day-Day: [they blow their whistles; Craig is standing right next to Day-Day] Goddamn, Craig!
Day-Day: All I want is a fat bitch with a name belt that say "glitter" on it.
Mr. Jones: Gimme a twister. Make it two. Hold the flies.
Craig Jones: He looked like Bobby Brown in a goddamn Santa Claus suit.
Craig Jones: Look, he hit Santa ass!
Damon: Momma where you goin?
Mrs. Pearly: Im goin to make my daily rounds
Damon: Can you make me a sandwhich when you get back?
Mrs. Pearly: Make your own damn sandwich!
Craig Jones: You ain't evictin' nobody, 'less you got a motherfuckin' army wit you.
Mrs. Pearly: I don't need no army, Mr. Smart-ass. My son Damon home right now.
Craig Jones, Day-Day: DAMON?
Craig Jones: [in narrative] I had a nightmare 'bout that fool last night.
Damon: [flashes to dream; Damon walks into Craig and Day-Day's prison cell] Day-Day. Craig. Which one of you bitches is gonna wash my drawers tonight?
Craig Jones, Day-Day: [pointing to each other] That would be him.
[Damon tosses his laundry on both of them]
Day-Day: I wash on Sundays... anyway.
Craig Jones: Starch or press?
Damon: Starch, nigga!
Officer Hole: Oh and when we find St. Nick, what do y'all want us to do to him? Cracked ribs? Fractured skull? Little eye gouge?
Craig Jones, Day-Day: Fractured skull.
Day-Day: Beat da shit out of him.
Craig Jones: Eye gouge. That's the shit.
Officer Hole: [writes it down] And an eye gouge.
Day-Day: Here's your lil' stanky-ass whistle!
Money Mike: 25% off. Everything must go. Maybe even you.
Mr. Jones: Elroy, don't you mess with this ba-ba-ba-barbecue business. I'm gon' keep a eye on you.
Uncle Elroy: I don't give a damn 'bout yo lazy eye, you Popeye lookin' son of a... No! I started this barbecue shit, and this is the motherfuckin' thanks I get?
Moly: You guys are top-flight security, best in the whole wide world. You have to defend this whole place with your own lives.
Day-Day: And I'd die for this shit too.
Craig Jones: [offering Day Day a joint] Light it up before I beat dat ass.
Craig Jones: You remedial.
Day-Day: What does that mean?
Craig Jones: Retarded.
Money Mike: [to Donna] Speaking of cockroaches, where was yo antennas when them two niggas was robbin' me?
Uncle Elroy: Where your flashlight at? Rent-a-cops supposed to have flashlights. You gotta shine some damn body.
Craig Jones: We supposed to get handcuffs, flashlights, taser guns.
Day-Day: German shepherds.
Uncle Elroy: Y'all must ain't heard what happened to the last security guards they had 'round here.
Craig Jones: Why every time you get a little position of power, you abuse yo authority?
Day-Day: I can't even do the James Brown in these pants.
Craig Jones: Good. I don't wanna see you do the James Brown.
Day-Day: Man, we ain't never gonna get no pussy in these clothes.
Day-Day: [screaming] Y'all hear me blowing this whistle?
Moly: We hear you, dog, what is it?
Day-Day: We just got jacked by Santa Claus! He almost tied us up, fucked us and robbed us! He pulled out a pistol and...!
[begins acting melodramatically]
Moly: You on crack, buddy?
Santa Claus: You remind me of them old players that hang out in the clubs wit da young girls.
Uncle Elroy: You know, you remind me of a young nigga that's fuckin' with the wrong old nigga!
Broadway Bill: I'm appalled.
Craig Jones: You ain't Paul. You a nigga that steal.
Mr. Jones: Lotto stud. Lotto fuckin' stud.
Money Mike: [a pimp manniquin falls on Mike, pinning him to the floor] This is bullshit. I'm stuck between a pimp and a hard place. Donna, man down! Eleven thirty: pimp in distress!
Craig Jones: [about Moly] He ran the whole strip mall and he owned Holy Moly Donuts. But trust me, don't never ever, ever, EVER. Ever, ever, EVER eat there.
Day-Day: [interrupting a trio of carolers] Heaven and a... fuck all that shit! Y'all hos gotta get up off the corner with that.
Sister Sarah: Excuse me, sugar, what did you say?
Day-Day: Y'all heard me what I said. I said y'all hos gotta get off this corner
Sister Sarah: You better watch yo little filthy mouth. You are talking to children of the lord.
Day-Day: I want you to know who you're talking to too: top flight motherfucking security.
Craig Jones: [running up] Hey wait a minute, Day-Day, you can't talk to these old-ass ladies like that!
Craig Jones: What you need to do is grab one of these fine females and get your boogie on.
Damon: I don't wanna dance with none of these hos.
Craig Jones: The clothes don't make the player, the player make the clothes.
Day-Day: You gonna make me blow this whistle, I'll clear all this shit out.
Sister Sarah: Fuck you AND your whistle.
Craig Jones: So all we gonna do is take it easy, make this money, you gonna watch yo temper.
Day-Day: I ain't gotta watch shit.
Craig Jones: You gonna treat people right, talk to people right. You can get yo ass kicked out here real quick.
Day-Day: So? I don't care nothin' about that. Don't nobody be gettin' outta hand.
Craig Jones: And I ain't gettin' into no shit because of you.
Money Mike: [holding Damon by the testicles with a pair of pliers] Hold these til I get in the car.
Craig Jones: Dude, I ain't about to touch his nuts or them vice grips.
Money Mike: Oh yes you are.
Craig Jones: No I'm not.
Money Mike: Yes you are!
Craig Jones: Bullshit.
Money Mike: This is yo party. Yo pliers. His nuts. In yo hands!
Moly: [while smoking a cigar] Take lunch, one half hour. Don't be late!
[walks away]
Day-Day: That's a dirty motherfucker. He gon' blow smoke in our face on the first arrest? That's bullshit.
Craig Jones: See? I told you there ain't no future in being a company man.
Damon: Who's that?
Craig Jones: That's, uh... that's Donna.
Damon: Who da nigga she with?
Craig Jones: Oh, that's just Money Mike, little Lucky Charms, micro-mini pimp.
Damon: Yeah, that nigga look magically delicious.

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