This Isn't the Help - It's a XXX Spoof

---

I was born 1911, Chickasaw County,

Piedmont Plantation.

And did you know,

as a girl growing up,

that one day you'd be a maid?

Yes, ma'am, I did.

And you knew that because...

My mama was a maid.

My grandmama was a house slave.

House... slave.

Do you ever dream

of being something else?

What does it feel like

to raise a white child

when your own child's at home being

looked after by somebody else?

It feel...

I done raised 17 kids in my life.

Looking after white babies,

that's what I do.

Aibee, Aibee.

- Hi!

- Aibee!

I know how to get them babies to sleep,

stop crying and go in the toilet bow/

before their mamas even

get out of bed in the morning.

Babies like fat.

They like big fat legs, too.

That I know.

You is kind, you is smart...

...you is important.

- You is smart...

- Smart...

...you is kind...

- ... you is kind...

...you is important.

- ... you is important.

That's so good.

That's so good.

I work for the Leefolts

from eight to four; six days a week.

I make 95 cent an hour.

That comes to $182 every month.

I do all the cooking, cleaning, washing,

ironing and grocery shopping.

But mostly, I take care of Baby Girl.

And, Lord, I worry she gonna be fat.

Mae Mobley.

Ain't going to be

no beauty queen either.

Aibileen, bridge club is in an hour.

Did you finish the chicken salad?

- Yes.

- Oh, and Hilly's deviled eggs.

- No paprika.

- Mm-hm.

Does this dress look homemade?

I reckon when you finish it won't.

Well, thank you.

Miss Leefolt still don't

pick Baby Girl up but once a day.

The birthing blues got hold

of Miss Leefolt pretty hard.

I done seen it happen plenty of times,

once babies start having

their own babies.

And the young

white ladies of Jackson...

...oh Lord, was they having babies.

But not Miss Skeeter.

No man and no babies.

- Morning.

- Hi.

- My name is Eugenia Phelan, and...

- Come on.

Eugenia Phelan, Mr. Blackly.

Shut the damn door.

I guarantee you, one day they're going

to figure out cigarettes will kill you.

OK, Miss Phelan,

let's see what you got.

Murrah High:
editor.

Ole Miss Rebel Rouser. editor.

Double major.

Junior League:
editor.

- Damn, girl, don't you have fun?

- Is that important?

- Do you have any references?

- Yes.

Right here.

This...

This is a rejection letter.

Not exactly. See, Miss Stein thought...

Stein?

Elaine Stein, from Harper and Row

Publishing in New York.

Oh, Lord.

I'm gonna be a serious writer,

Mr. Blackly.

I applied for a job,

but Mrs. Stein thought...

She said no.

Well, until I gain some experience.

See? Says right there.

"Great potential. Gain some experience

and please apply again. "

Oh, Christ. I guess you'll do.

Do you clean?

- I'm sorry. Clean?

- Clean.

Grab that basket.

Miss Myrna has gone

sh*t-house crazy on us.

She drunk hairspray or something.

I want you to read her past columns.

Then read these letters and you

answer them just like she would.

Nobody is gonna know

the damn difference.

You know who Miss Myrna is?

I read her articles all the time.

Articles? Miss Phelan,

it's a cleaning advice column.

Eight bucks a week.

Copy is due on Thursday.

Hello?

Lou Ann, honey, I can't talk right now.

I'm at work.

What? Shut that goddamn door.

Mama, we're late for bridge!

Miss Hilly was the first

of the babies to have a baby.

...Three...

And it must have come out of her like

the 11th Commandment,

'cause once Miss Hilly had a baby,

every girl at the bridge table

had to have one, too.

Minny, go get Mama!

Missus Walters,

you need help coming down?

- I'm down.

- Ooh.

- I been down.

- Give me a heart attack.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, Missus Walters.

Here, let me help you.

Take that off.

It's 98 degrees out there.

- Is it?

- Yes, ma'am.

Well, let's put my coat on then.

- Come on, Minny.

- All right.

- Here's your pocketbook.

- Thank you.

OK, let me get the pie.

Hold on, Missus Walters. Hold on.

Once Missus Walters' arteries went hard,

Miss Hilly moved her into her house

and fired the maid she had

to make room for Minny too.

See, Minny about the best cook

in Mississippi,

and Miss Hilly wanted her.

I lost my own boy, Treelore,

four years ago.

After that, I just didn't want

to live no more.

It took God and Minny

to get me through it.

Minn y my best friend.

Old lady like me lucky to have her.

After my boy died, a bitter seed

was planted inside of me.

And I just didn't feel

so accepting any more.

No.

You drunk up two glasses of grape juice.

I know you got to tee-tee.

No.

I'll give you two cookies if you go.

Mae Mobley, you're going!

Aibileen, the girls are

pulling up, and the table isn't set.

Mae Mobley go, Mama.

Get in your room right now.

Set out the dessert forks. Please.

Put Mama in a chair

before she breaks a hip.

I'm not deaf yet, Hilly.

Hey, girls.

Oh. Minny. Will you see if Aibileen

has some of that ambrosia?

Hold on. Those are Miss Hilly's.

She looks like the winning

horse at the Kentucky Derby.

All flowers and bows.

Got to have paprika on them.

Ooh.

Forgive me, Lord, but I'm gonna have

to kill that woman, Aibileen.

Now she gone to putting pencil marks

on my toilet paper.

- Did she?

- Mm-hm.

But I carry paper in from my own

damn house. That fool don't know.

Miss Leefolt got so much hairspray

on her head

she gonna blow us all up

if she light a cigarette.

And you know she will!

Rate this script:4.0 / 1 vote