♪
(phone buzzing)
(phone clicks on)
- Hello.
(Marie): Imagine, unemployed at 1:00 in afternoon
you still in a yah bad. Bria, what is this I hear
about you missing a job interview with Sandra?
- Hmm?
- Bria Leanne McFarlane,
nuh ramp wid mi today. I am-- - Right, right.
The interview!
Um, yeah, you know, remember I-I told you
I ended up getting the other job, on the same day?
(chuckles)
(Marie): Job? No, you didn't tell me.
- Oh, I thought I did! You know what?
I-I was probably distracted by your house news, you know, so. Yeah.
- Oh, yes. And then, I just took off to Florida. I'm so sorry, Bria.
- No! Don't-don't feel bad, Mom.
No, don't feel bad.
- So, tell me more about this job.
Is it like downtown Toronto?
♪ Why the fuck you lying ♪
♪ Why you always lying ♪♪
- Yeah! Yeah. It's downtown.
Um, entry level. (chuckles)
Um, but there's, you know, more room for growth.
- Awesome! I'm so glad you came to your senses
'bout dis "take a break" business again.
- Mm-hmm. - Oh, gotta go.
But Bria, please clean-- - Okay, bye, Mom! Love you!
- Mm-hmm. (call clicks off)
(Black Attack pops in)
(both): Fuck!
- Okay, so that means we have three days...
- Yep. - ...to find a full-time,
entry-level position downtown. - Yeah.
- But I mean, it can't be that hard, right?
- Yeah, it's not like you're trying to run a Fortune 500.
Although... - I probably could.
- Probably could. - Right?
Ah! Ah! - Ah! Ah!
- Okay, okay, so... Think.
(phone chimes) (Black Attack): Think, think.
Think, think, think, think, think, think.
(phone clicks on) (Jackie): Yo, yo, yo!
(Bria laughs) Just on my way to babysit,
but I have some big news.
I'm back, like LeBron's hairline, baby!
(Bria): You're joking! (Jackie): Yeah, I'm done here.
I came because I was broke and not famous,
and now I'm working 90-hour weeks,
only a little less broke... (Black Attack blows raspberry)
...and still not famous? No, thank you.
You know what this means?
We can move in together, bitch!
(Bria squeals)
(exclaiming)
Annyeong, Mrs. Kim. - Come on.
- Okay, I gotta go, but let me know what ya think.
- Bitch, yes! - Your girl is comin' home!
Okay, I gotta go, but I love you....
(blows kisses) And I can't wait to see you.
Bye. - Bitch, are you being for real?
Like, for real, for real? For serious, for real, for real, for real?
Because if you are, I will look for a job
and an apartment so hard right now.
That means we can be roommates, bitch!
I mean, I actually have to, but now I'll actually want to,
so please confirm that this is for real?
Okay? Ha, ha! Call me later.
Love you! - Ah! Ah! Ah!
(Bria): Fuck! Now we really have to find a job.
(rap music)
(sighing)
(Black Attack): Ready?
(computer keys clacking)
(rap music)
(cash register chiming)
(Black Attack yawns)
- Ooh.
Oh, these are soft. What?
What kind of lotion you using?
- Ladies and gentlemen, 200 applications later, we did it!
(both): Let's go!
Let's go! Let's go!
- You gonna hire me? Let's go! - I'm gonna pay you to be there.
- What?! (both exclaiming)
(Bria snores)
(phone buzzing, chiming)
(phone clicks on)
- Okay, okay. (chuckling)
Not the business days, man!
(Black Attack pops in) - Hey.
Come here, baby bird.
(ethereal flute music plays)
Let's breathe.
(Black Attack inhales and exhales deeply)
Okay, on the count of one,
let's say the first solution that comes to mind.
Three, two, one.
- Sugar daddy! - Call Gemma. What?!
- Girl, what about my last convo with Gemma...
would make her my only option?
- Okay, not only option, but likely your best bet.
- Define best bet.
Yeah, she can get me a job short term,
but can she fly me to Abu Dhabi like my new sugar daddy?
I don't think so. - Okay, but does he have a white saviour complex?
Be real, girl, you need help. - Okay, no, I don't.
(sucks teeth) Okay, I applied
to 200 jobs yesterday.
I can apply to 200 more today. (sighing)
And there's still plenty more out there.
- No, there's not plenty more time though, girl.
And Gemma literally said-- - Okay, ah!
I don't wanna hear it.
(scoffs)
(Black Attack pops away)
Girl, please. I'm not worried, okay?
All I need is an interview.
Once I get in front of them,
give them that Bria Mack experience,
blind them with that megawatt schmile.
Ha! (bell dings)
It's game over.
Okay.
Ooh.
"SLH Marketing offers an opportunity
to expand your reach and flex those marketing muscles.
Please note, these openings are for full-time
sales positions with guaranteed minimum base pay!"
Okay! Paid weekly, paid weekly, let's go!
"All applicants will be seen!"
- Welcome to the SLH Marketing team.
Oh, I know what you're thinking, right?
What, no interview?
No, I couldn't give a shit about that.
- Oh. - Now, I mean,
look at this resume! Bachelor's, valedictorian?
A minor in Korean.
Is that what... (laughing)
That's crazy. I fuckin' love bip and bop!
No, what am I gonna do, sit here and interview the Bria McFarlane?
Come on. You know you're better than that.
You know you're too good for that.
- Gamsahabnida, Craig!
You know, people tend to forget my minor in Korean.
- I bet! I bet. Well, you know, here at-at SLH Marketing,
we don't need test results or references to know how fantastic you are.
- Oh. (chuckles)
- So, what I'm thinking is,
why don't we put pen to paper. - Hmm.
- And get you started tomorrow?
Because we believe in you that much.
- Oh! - Seriously.
First payout's on Friday. You in?
- Uh, this Friday? - Yeah!
- This Friday. - Yeah.
- Oh, yeah! No, I-I'm down!
- She's down! I love it. (laughing)
Okay, where's my vape? Oh, here we go.
I love it, I love it.
Okay, so, what you're gonna do is take this to my brother,
Marc, and then, he'll give you details about your service area.
- S-service? - And then, he'll collect payment for your starter kit.
- Wait...
I have to pay you.
For knives?! - Yep.
You'll be marketing them on behalf of SLH Marketing,
with the intent to sell them for SliceCo.
All you need is your kit for door-to-door demos.
- I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You want me to go door to door?!
- Uh-huh.
(sucks teeth) - Just kiss your teeth at...
- Girl, get! - You need to call her!
- Come on! (sighing)
(Gemma): Gemma Louise Bridlepath, you are a force.
You are a powerful woman. You have value,
you are informed, you are not just another ignorant horse girl,
like Sarah said.
You will make new friends.
What you manifest shall be.
(Bria grunting)
(call dials) - Girl, not the Facetime video!
- Yeah, Facetime. - Fuck!
(phone ringing)
(chuckles under breath)
- Thank you.
Oh, my God, Bria. Hi, how are you?
How's it going? How are you doing?
It's been so long! I mean, it's only been a week,
but you know what I mean. How are you?
- Hey, Gemma, girly pop!
I'm good! I'm good. Ha!
Um... I mean I'm... hitting the pavement still.
Job search stuff, you know. - Oh, my God,
I'm so glad you thought to call me.
I am here for you, queen.
What kinda job are you looking for?
- Honestly, anything. Receptionist, data entry.
Anything other than selling knives.
It has to be fast, not fun.
- Okay, fast not fun.
Immediate openings.
(computer keys clack)
Okay, I think I found something.
- Damn, already?
Girl, you're good!
- Yas girl, I told you, I got you.
Okay, so it's short notice, but it's basic data entry,
so you should get it right away. Interviews are tomorrow
to start work the day after.
- Wait, tomorrow?
Oh, my God, tomorrow is perfect! Gemma, this is the best.
- Oh, I'm happy to help.
It's for that bank Smith & Tanner Investments.
There's a ton of job openings,
probably because of that campaign leak.
But I don't know. - Okay.
I mean, sounds dry as hell, but I'll take it.
Thanks for your help. - Anytime.
Oh! By the way, there's this new steampunk
Ethiopian gastropub that opened up and I just wanted...
(call ends) Hmm.
Damn it.
(both sigh)
(rap music)
- Okay, fine.
You were right. - Thanks.
- I guess Miss Gemma is indeed the white privilege plug.
- Yes! Utilize!
- Yeah.
(alert chimes) - Oh.
It's reparations time!
Ah yes, Rahul Lamba.
Delete.
Hmm.
(mouse clicks)
Definitely delete.
(mouse clicks)
$612 in reparations for you, Lory.
No.
Of course you took kinesiology.
You've had enough, Jason.
(footsteps clacking)
(elevator chimes)
(slurps coffee)
- So, this is Frank, our HR director.
And I'm your department manager, Aurore.
- A whore? - Oh, my God,
no one can pronounce it, okay? Just stick to Dawn.
- Okay, so you can call me Dawn.
- Okay. - Please uh, have a seat.
- Yeah.
- Okay, all right, you are Reggie.
You're Reggie. - No, no.
This file. - Oh, ha, okay.
I thought Reggie was a boy's name,
but you can never tell in this day and age, right?
Up is down, he is she, they is them, who is what.
All right.
Uh... you know what?
Why don't you just tell us
why you're right for this role, Bria.
- Yeah, I'm-- - I mean, accounting experience
is good, uh, but this is a data entry role, so it's easy stuff.
Right? Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.
- Oh. (chuckling)
- A lot of people say that.
We're looking for someone
who can bring a little wit to the job, you know?
A little fresh energy to the company.
A people person.
- Oh, a people person? - Yeah.
- For data entry? - Uh, uh, let me explain, okay?
Uh, every department has an internal assignment for a change officer.
(Bria): Mm-hmm. - Okay, it's someone who reps
the department at monthly policy meetings
and eventually will share all this information through newsletters and...
- Yeah, yeah, all right, all right, all right, all right.
Uh, yeah, so as you could tell,
some of that information is a bit dry.
So, as I said about wit, tell us, what would you do to spice things up?
- Spice! Spice? Uh, like gifs and stuff?
- Oh! - Yes, gifs!
- Please!
(laughing) Please can we have a meme?
(Bria laughing) - S'il vous plaît!
- You get a gif! (gasps)
You get a gif! Everybody gets a gif!
(Frank and Dawn gasping)
(Bria continues laughing)
- I'm sorry, I didn't... Oh.
Oh!
Who is this ray of island sunshine?
(Frank): Cheryl, let me introduce you
to one of our data entry candidates, Bria.
- Oh, that's wonderful. - Hi.
- We could use some more young blood around here.
Nice to meet you. Bria.
- Oh. Nice.
- My goodness, you look just like my daughter-in-law.
Dawn, doesn't she look like Shaneeka?
- Oh, bien oui.
Yes.
- Well, I'll leave you all to do your thing.
Welcome to the team, dear. - Yeah.
- Yeah! (chuckles)
- Yes, all right. Welcome to the team is right.
I mean, if you're willing to accept the position.
- Wait, what seriously? Yeah, no, I-I accept.
I accept. - Yes.
- Great! Wrap this up, Dawn!
I am outta here. Off to lunch.
- Uh, it's 10:30. (Frank): Taco Tuesday.
- Frank! - Wait, what day is it?
- And this is your desk.
Not too far from the stairs so you can get your steps in.
(Bria chuckles) And I wanted to tell you about your nails.
Company policy calls for neutral colours only.
Or no colour.
- Okay. (sighing)
- What? I'm wearing a button down.
- Bria, this late young man is Trevor,
the accounting department's IT guy.
He's gonna arrange your station for you.
- Hi, Bria. - Hey.
- Trevor. - Excuse me.
Oh, Trevor, I was just looking for you.
My keyboard's acting up again.
I think it might be a virus.
- Okay. I'll take a look in a second.
Um, Cheryl, this is Bria.
- Oh, we met. Fist bump.
(chuckling) So glad they hired you.
You really are the spitting image of my daughter-in-law.
It's the uh... - Oh!
- ...shape of the eyes. Hmm.
- Okay. Yeah.
- Same as my granddaughter's.
- Hmm. - Oh, I-I should show you.
Three now. - Hmm.
- Yo, you think she's biracial?
There's no way her granddaughter
isn't about to be biracial.
Wait for it.
- Your granddaughter is adorable.
(chuckles) - And that's Shaneeka.
- Hmm. - You see the resemblance, yeah?
- Yeah! - She's a sassy one, too.
- Sassy? And when and what, exactly?
- Okay, Cheryl, uh, I actually have to get Bria set up, so...
- No, I-I need your help with the virus.
Dear, do you mind taking those to the kitchen?
- Oh. Yeah. - That's fine?
- Yeah, it's fine. - 'K, I'll meet you in a second?
- Mm-hmm. - All right, Cheryl,
let's go spend five minutes figuring out there's absolutely
nothing wrong with your keyboard.
(Cheryl): Aw, thank you, dear.
- Hey, how's it goin'? I'm Allan.
- Oh, hi, I'm Bria, the new hire.
- I'm also new! Welcome!
- Um, you have, um, something there.
- Oh, geez. Don't mind my mess.
I love spanakopita, but the flakes get everywhere.
- You know what? My Aunt Sophie has something like that.
She uses this ointment called um...
- No, no, no, spana-ko-pita, it's a-a Greek spinach pie.
My family's Greek, so we have it almost every family gathering.
- Right. - So, what were the cupcakes for?
- You know, I'm not really sure.
Probably some kinda celebration.
I feel like people in offices
are always celebrating something.
- Oh, you know, I read somewhere that office parties
are the single biggest market driver of grocery store sheet cakes.
- Wait, really? - No.
- Oh. (both laugh)
- But feels true, right? - Kinda.
- Oh. (Trevor): Why are you here?
Sorry, I mean, hi.
You know there's a nicer kitchen on your floor, right?
- Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, but I like to visit other departments.
You know, get to know people around the building.
Kinda my thing. - Got it.
- Nice talking to you, Bria. - Yeah.
- Later, Trev. - See ya around.
- He seems really nice.
- He is. - Yeah.
- He's also the new Chief Marketing Officer.
Yeah, some exec they poached from Vancouver
to deal with the whole campaign fiasco.
He gutted the entire marketing department
and brought in an external firm, so he's kind of a big deal.
- Hmm.
- That one doesn't have icing. - That's for Janice.
We're throwing a little party for her because she hit her Weight Watchers goal.
It's good for morale, Trevor. (Trevor): Hmm.
- No one wants to celebrate with celery.
- Is she like, a part of the party planning committee,
or something? - She's the head.
But it's self-appointed. - Oh.
(laughter) (group clapping)
(indistinct chatter)
(computer keys clacking)
- Oh dear, I didn't mean to scare you.
I... I brought you a cupcake. - Thanks.
- I'm sorry, dear, I don't mean to stare, but I just love your hair.
How do you get it like that? It's so beautiful.
So soft.
(sinister music)
- Wow!
Cheryl, really?
Girl, you really gonna let her touch your hair like that?
After all the Solange we listened to last night. Really?
(rap music)
Get your fucking asses up against the wall, now!
Go! Go! Go! Go!
(coworkers whimpering)
Girl, move! Cupcake, really?
- There's one rule, and one rule only,
to know when working with a Black woman.
(Black Attack): One.
- Don't ever touch my fucking hair!
- Don't touch her fucking hair. - Okay, that's it.
That sounds reasonable. - Yeah, yeah.
Actually there's two rules. (Black Attack): Uh-oh. Two.
- Yeah, and this goes for everybody.
Don't ever call me sassy. (group): No.
(Black Attack): Do not call her sassy.
- I never called her that. - Yeah.
Oh, I lied, there's three rules.
- She lied. - Yeah, yeah.
I'm not angry all the time.
This is just my fucking face.
(Black Attack): It's her fucking face.
- So, leave me the fuck alone!
Yeah.
Yeah, those are my three rules.
(Black Attack): Does everyone understand her?
(group screams) Huh, do you?
- Do you understand me, Cheryl?
- Yes. - Yeah? Yeah?
Repeat the rules back to me.
- Um... - All... is, all-all of us,
or just-just Cheryl? - What?
- Just Cheryl. - Yes!
All of you.
- Yep, she wants all of us. - Come on, let's go!
(group stammering) - Don't touch...
- Don't touch the fucking hair. - Don't touch your fucking hair.
- Don't uh... - Don't call you sassy.
- Sassy. (group stammering)
- What is your... it's you... it's you with the face.
- You're not mad, it's just your face.
- No, you're not. - Just your face.
(group panting)
Just your face.
- You think?
- Yeah, I mean, how else Miley gon' know what's good?
- True, true, but you don't think it's doing too much?
- What? No! Come on!
You know how the saying goes,
they're lucky we just want equality and not revenge.
(Bria): Right, right, no, I hear you, I hear you.
But do you think it's worth killing all of them over this?
- Yes, come on! Just go straight Scarface!
(group screaming)
(Black Attack imitates gunfire)
- Pop!
(Bria): Bam, bam, bam.
Okay, I hear you, I hear you.
But I mean, she just touched my hair.
(sighs)
- And Emmett was just whistling.
(dramatic hip hop music plays)
(gun cocks)
(both): Don't touch my fucking hair!
(bullets popping) (group screaming)
- And give me that fucking cupcake!
Now!
- What the fuck, Cheryl? You can't do that shit.
(indistinct chatter)
(phone clicks on)
(call dials)
(dramatic music swelling)
(Black Attack pops in) - What the fuck?!
(Gemma): Hi, it's Gemma. Leave a message!
- Yo, where are we? - Hey, Gemma.
Listen, I don't think this job is gonna pan out.
(chuckles nervously) I think I know why they had
so many openings and that scandal was probably worse than what leaked.
Anyways um, I appreciate your help a lot.
I do, really. Um, but if you have any other leads, I'd be super grateful.
Okay. Um, thanks.
- The enemy is near! Duck for cover!
- Please, don't leave.
- Huh? - Listen, Cheryl's an idiot.
She thinks her granddaughter gives her some kind of access pass.
She's like, this close to claiming she's trans-racial.
(scoffs) - Oh, okay.
Maybe you get some woke points for that.
- A little. - Maybe a little extra credit
too for these forearms. What?!
- At least stay while you keep looking for something better.
- What? - That way, they're literally
paying you to find another job. You know, quiet quitting.
- No, we're loud leaving!
Yo, fuck this place, let's go.
- Yeah, um, thanks for the words of encouragement,
but I'm absolutely going home.
Just gotta get my stuff.
- I'm sorry to hear that. - Hmm.
- But I understand. - Yeah.
- Sorry. - Oh, yeah.
- Oh. Oh. (chuckling)
Whoa! Oh! Ah! Mama likey!
- Whatever. You know, I'm kinda glad
you aren't staying. I think we'd get along a little too well.
(elevator chimes)
Take care, Bria. - Yeah, bye.
- It really was nice meeting you.
- Hmm.
(elevator closes)
- Oh, you okay, girl?
Someone need to mop this floor. - Hell yeah.
- See those forearms? - They're so fine!
(both giggling)
Yo, what am I doing?
Gotta get the rest of my shit. - Okay.
(Black Attack pops away) (exhales sharply)
(phone buzzes)
(indistinct chatter)
(messages blooping)
(R&B music)
(Bria sighs)
Subtitling: difuze