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Ladykillers The

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The earth
Is in a blaze
The World
Is in a maze
The Way
Of life today
Is strange and odd
What happened
Across the sea
May come
To you and me
Whoa, come
Let us go back
To God
Go back
- To God|- Oh, come on
Let's go back to God
- Let us go back|- Let's go back to God
- Come on|- Let's go back to God
- Let us go back|- Let's go back to God
- I knoW the Way|- Let's go back to God
- Without my Lord|- Let's go back to God
- It's mighty hard|- Let's go back to God
- Whoa, yeah|- Let's go back to God
- That I knoW the path|- Let's go back to God
- Wander path, yeah|- Let's go back to God
- Left his mark|- Let's go back to God
- Of halloWed troughs|- Let's go back to God
- Come on, yes|- Let's go back to God
- Let us go back|- Let's go back to God
- Go back to God|- Come, let us go back
To God
Oh,,,|Afternoon, Mrs, Munson,
Afternoon, Sheriff,
- You know the funthes bo?|- Um,,,
Mackatee funthes?
Oh, no, not him,|Weemack,
- Mackatee's eldest,|- Oh, eah,,,
- l don't believe l do,|- Well, he's a good bo and all,
but he done gone down to the Costco|in Pascagoula and got hisself a blaster,
- What?|- And he been plaing that music,
- Well, if ou want, ou know, l could,,,|- Loud!
- Well, l could go talk to him if ou,,,|- ''Left M Wallet in El Segundo,''
- He left his wallet?|- Hippit-hop music!
You know, the calls it hippit-hop music,
but it don't make me|want to go hippit-hop,
And Othar don't like that music neither,
- lt's been disturbin' Othar then, has it?|- Well, how could it help but do?
''Left M Wallet in El Segundo''!
And, Sheriff, do ou know what the call|colored folks in them songs?
Have ou got an idea?
- No, ma'am, l don't think,,,|- Niggers!
l don't even want to sa the word,|Now, l won't sa it twice,
- l can tell ou that, l sa it one time,,,|- Yes, ma'am,
,,,in the course of swearin'|down m complaint,
- Yes'm,|- Niggers!
2000 ears after Jesus!|30 ears after Martin Luther King!
The age of Montel!
- Mm-mm-mm!|- Sweet lord of merc,
- is that where we at?|- Mm-hm,
Weemack down to Pascagoula|and gettin' hisself
a big ol' thumpet stereo|so he can listen to that trash!
- Sheriff, ou got to help that bo,|- You want me to help him?
Extend that helpin' hand,|Show an interest,
- Well, we're here to help,|- Well, God bless ou for that,
You don't want to be tried|and found wantin',
- No, ma'am,|- No, man, man done
tunkalow parzen, Sheriff,|Man, man done tunkalow parzen,
Man what, ma'am?
You been tried and found wantin'!|You don't want that writin' on the wall,
Oh, no, ma'am,|Don't want that on the wall,
- feast of Balthazar,|- Yeah, that sounds good,
The apostle John said, ''Behold,|there's a stranger in our midst,,,
- ,,,come to destro us,''|- Yes, ma'am,
Come, let us go back... God|go back
- Oh, come on|- Let's go back to God
- Let us go back|- Let's go back to God
- Come on|- Let's go back to God
- Let us go back|- Let's go back to God
- Come on, yes!|- Let's go back to God
- Let us go back|- Let's go back
- To God|- Go back to God
Do ou need somethin' to eat, angel?
Othar, l went and complained|about Weemack toda,
Don't know if it'll do an good,
That bo hangin' b a thread,|Over the pit,
fier pit!|''Left M Wallet in El Segundo,''
67 ears of life,
46 ears of marriage,
You mean to tell me ou never once|suffered from piles?
Well, it's the human condition,
Most humans, anhow,
Like that ballplaer said,|''The world's got two kind of folks,''
''Them that's got the piles|and them that's goin' get 'em,''
But ou alwas was health as a ox,
Passed on 'fore ou could get the piles,|Mm-hm,
Ooh, thank the Lord ou never was sick,
l just want to pass awa|nice and peaceful,
Go to sleep one night, wake up|in the glor land! Whoo!
- Go fetch Pickles!|- Pickles?
Oh, he's up that tree again!|You'd better shimm on up,
Well, l do apologize, madam, but,,,
won't the feline eventuall tire|of his lonel perch
and, pining for his master's affection,|return on his own initiative?
Uh, the point being,|must we actuall ascend the tree?
Look, l don't want no doubletalk,
Now, if ou not gon' fetch him,|l guess l gotta call the police,
- Police?|- And the not goin' be happ,
Ever time the have to fetch him,|the swear the'll never do it no more,
No need to call the authorities, madam,
l did this often as a child,
l was a positive lemur,|Here, kitt!
- Oh, don't upset him now!|- l wouldn't think of it, madam,
Harmless little felix domesticus,
Here, Kitt,|Come to G,H,
Come, come,|Here, kitt, Here, kitt,
Come, come, come,|No, no, no,
That's not how Sheriff Wner do it,
Ah, eah, eah, eah,|Come, come, come,
Come to the professor,
Yes, Y,,,|Ah!
Uh,,, thank ou, madam,|for our act of kindness,
- Well, ou let him out,|- l certainl did,
and for that l apologize no end,
Allow me to present mself,|um, formall,
Goldthwait Higginson Dorr , Ph,D,
Like Elmer?
- l beg our pardon, ma'am?|- fudd,
No, no, Ph,D, is a mark of|academic attainment
bestowed, in m case, in recognition of|m master of the antique languages
of Latin and Greek,
l also hold a number of other advanced|degrees, including the baccalaureate
from a school in Paris, france,|called the Sorbonne,
Sore bone,|Well, that fits,
You ever stud at Bob Jones Universit?
l have not had that privilege,
Oh, that's a Bible school,|Onl the finest in the countr,
- l send 'em $5 ever month,|- That is ver generous,,,
- l'm on the mailin' list! l'm a Angel,|- Are ou? Yes,
Oh, the list m name in|the newsletter ever issue,
- Do the?|- Oh, l got the literature right over here,
- if ou'd like to examine it,,,|- Perhaps when m head has
recovered from its, uh,,,|uh, buffeting,
Mrs, Munson, are ou at all curious
as to wh l darkened our door,|as the expression would have it,
on this lovel, lovel|camellia-scented morn?
Well, l was wonderin' till|ou let Pickles out,
- l quite understand,|- Then in all the excitement,,,
The fact is, l saw the sign in our window|advertising a room to let?
And there are no other such signs|among the houses
- on this charming, charming street,|- Yeah, l got a room,
$1 5 a week,|l'm lookin' for a quiet tenant,
Madam, ou are addressing|a man who is quiet
and et not quiet,|lf l ma offer a riddle,
l am currentl on sabbatical from|the institution where l teach,
the Universit of Mississippi|at Hattiesburg,
l am takin' a ear off to|indulge m passion,
and l do not believe that is|too strong a word,
- for the music of the Renaissance,|- Mm-hm,
l perform in, and have the honor of|directing, a period-instrument ensemble
that performs at Renaissance fairs|and other cultural fora
throughout central and southern|Mississippi,
We perform on the instruments for which|the music was originall composed,
Now, wait a minute,|You got some kind of band?
Oh, no, The word ''band'' would be,|in this context, something of a misnomer,
Though we do pla together,|hence the word ''ensemble'',
the nature of the music is such that,
well, one would hesitate to appl|the epithet ''band''
- with connotations of janglin' rhthms,|- So 'all ain't plain' no hippit-hop?
''l Left M Wallet in El Segundo'',|Songs with the titles spelled all funn?
Oh, no, no, We pla music that has been|composed to the greater glor of God,
Devotional music,|Church music,
Gospel music?
Well, inspired b the gospel, certainl,
The vintage, of course,|is no more recent than the Rococo,
Rococo, huh?|Well, l guess that'd be OK,
But l don't propose to inflict|our rehearsals on ou,
Ma l inquire,|do ou have a root cellar?
Ah,,, Yes,
Yes, es,
This looks promising,
A little dank, ain't it?
lndeed,|That onl improves the acoustics,
Yes, Ah!
Oh, these earthen walls|are ideal for baffling
the higher registers of the, uh,,,|lute or sackbut,
That is wh so much music|of the cinquecento was plaed in crpts
and catacombs, This is ideal,|This is perfect, This is more than perfect,
- l can scarcel contain m glee,|- Oh, ou containin' it OK,
You gotta peel this shit out, man,|Sometimes it stick to the bottom,
He, this shit smells like piles,
You wouldn't even believe this, man,|Even out here on the casino floor
ou gonna find goddamn|merc pads, Tucks,,,
l don't know what the fuck people be|doin' here while the gamblin',
Man, l ain't peelin' no funk shit|with m human hands,
That ain't nothin' but a prescription|for diseases and viruses
- and shit attackin' our fuckin' insides,|- Oh, well, shit, ou gotta do it,
'cause Mr, Gudge checks everthing,
This tunnel leads back onto the land|for all the people that work for Mannex,
Mannex Corporation, The own|the Bandit Queen, three other boats,
Now, this is where the think on their|corporate shit, Gudge and them,
l mean, the light's as ugl as all hell,|but, shit, ain't as man Tucks,
- Let me in, motherfucker!|- What's the password?
Kiss m ass!
Now, this is where the count|the dough, Now, if ou tr to take an of it,
Elron over there'll shoot o' ass,|Goddamn!
Dawg, this is a motherfuckin' pigst, man!
You are a squeakass,|motherfuckin' pig!
Man, look at our ass,|You got Cocoa Krispies on our uniform,
Got breakfast there, and ou still eatin'|goddamn lunch, man,
l swear to God, if that ass was nickels,|ou'd be a motherfuckin' millionaire,
Spread out, bo, Look at ou,|You a disgraceful fucka!
You is a fat motherfucker, man!|l swear,,,
He, Mr, Gudge, uh,,,
- How ou doin' this mornin'?|- l'm doin' fine,
- All right,|- So, how's the new man?
Oh, shit, he a cleanin' motherfucker, man,
- ls that a fact?|- What's up, m nigga?
Cut! Cut, cut, cut!
Goddamn it, his canteen fell off,|Props!
- The goddamn thing's canteen fell off,|- OK, We're prepared for that,
Mountain, put Otto into the apparatus,
- What the hell is this?|- World War l vintage gas mask,
lt's authentic, Strapped on,|of course, so it can't fall off,
Now, the animal is free to be|as active as he wants,
lt doesn't inhibit his movement|in an wa, and,,,
,,,l think it reall sells the whole|doughbo thing,
- lt looks like a fucking joke,|- Uh, ou're absolutel right,
The gas mask is a whimsical concept,
How the hell does it eat when it gets to|the Nibbles Read-to-Eat?
- Well, ou're absolutel right,|- Don't let the clients see this,
- Or that Humane fucker,|- No, of course not,
The'll just shut the fuckin' spot down,|Pancake, The'll shut,,,
,,,shut the fuckin' spot down, OK?
Put the goddamn canteen back on|the dog, That sas he's a soldier!
Dented tin canteen,|All right? Strap it to his fucking collar!
Easiest thing in the world,|l-l just thought,,,
,,,but ou're right, A canteen's much better,|Good concept, Let's go with that,
- What's he doing?|- Well, he's, uh,,,
- Just breathe normall, Otto,|- The fucking dog can't breathe,
Oh, no, he can breathe,|Eh, eh, that thing is,,,
- Just breathe normall, Otto,|- The fuckin' dog can't breathe,
The fuckin' dog cannot breathe!
OK? Get the fu,,,|Get that fuckin' thing off of him,
Of course,|Easiest thing in the world,
l don't have m Leatherman, Mountain,|give me our Leatherman, Chop, chop!
Chitra! Make sure that Humane fucker|doesn't come over here, OK?
Distract him,|He'll shit if he sees this,
There we go,|Mountain, have electric run me a stinger,
Don't give up on me, Otto!|Mountain, l need two live leads!
Uh, eh, but, Garth, the gennie's|a hundred ards awa,
Goddamn it, Otto's gonna have irreversible|brain damage in about 30 seconds,
Here we go, OK, kiss of life,
Otto is fuckin' dead!|What the fuck are ou doing?!
Otto is fuckin' dead!
Set! 320! 320! Hut!
l-left, 90-tiger, x-slant,|On one, Read? Break!
Ugh! Ooh!
Split left, 68, Z-go,
- You the man, He, butthead!|- Huh?
- You the man!|- Me the man?
On one,|Read? Break!
390! 390! Hut!
Oh, no!
Hudson! Get our ass off the field!|Get our ass off the field!
Goddamn it! Hudson,|get our ass out of m game!
You couldn't catch a cold!
A'ight, Dragon Lad,|we want that fuckin' mone,
We want that doughnut mone,
- Oh! OK, papa-san,,,|- Whoa, whoa, whoa,
,,,we want that doughnut mone,
We ain't fuckin' around, Mr, Hi-Ho,
Look, this fuckin' thing,|it ain't that complicated,
You give us all the fuckin' mone,|ou won't get shot in the head,
A'ight?|You got three seconds,
You,,, You got three fucking seconds,|a'ight? One, two, three, You understand?
- We want that doughnut mone!|- l'm a count uno, and two and,,,
His fingers are wa the fuck up m nose!
Get our fingers out m man's nose!
- Let it shine on|- All night
- Let it shine on|- Come on, now, let our
- Light from the lighthouse|- Let it
Shine on me
- Oh, let it|- Shine on
- Come on, let it|- Shine on
- l need ou to let our|- Light from the lighthouse
Let it shine on me
- Let it shine on me|- Shine on
- Let it shine on me|- Shine on
- Let it shine on me|- Shine on
- You got to let it shine on me|- Shine on
- When ou're walkin' in darkness|- Shine on
- You gotta let it shine|- Shine on
lf ou want to see the light|You gotta let it shine
You've got to let it shine
You've got to let it shine|Whoo!
Come on, shine, es!|Come on, shine
Come on, shine
You've got to come on|and let it shine
Yeah, help me let it shine
Let it shine
Oh, eah
- He, let it shine|- Shine on
- Let it shine|- Shine on
- Let it shine|- Shine on
Let the light from the lighthouse
Let it shine on me|Yeah!
l know ou all remember that when|Moses came down the mountain
carring the Word of God,|come down that Sinai peak,
- he caught them lsraelites red-handed,|- Yes!
What'd he catch 'em doin'?
He caught 'em worshippin'
- a golden calf,|- Yes!
He caught 'em worshippin'
a false god,
He caught them lsraelites in decline,
ln decline!
What did Moses do when he saw those,,,
declinin', backslidin',|never-mindin' sinners?
What did he do?
Mosses smote those sinners|in his wrath! Yes, he did!
Y'all know what ''smote'' is?
l smite, ou smite, he smites,|we done smote!
To smite is to go upside the head!
Because sometimes, brothers and sisters,|that's the onl wa!
The onl wa,
To smite is to remind|we got to stop that decline
and scramble back up to the face|of the Almight God!
- Amen!|- lnstead of worshippin'
that golden calf, that earthl trash|on that garbage island,
That garbage island in the shadowland,|wa-a-a,,,
wa outside the Kingdom of God!
That garbage island,|where scavenger birds feast
on the bones of the backslidin' damned!
And so,,,|let us pra,
M dear lad, l do so hope this is not|an inopportune time for our first practice,
Somebod die?
l beg our pardon? Oh!
No, no, no,|No, l'm not bereaved,
Though it is so kind of ou to inquire,|The hearse is simpl a vehicle
commodious enough to accommodate|all the members of our ensemble,
And, of course, our instruments contrived|in an age ignorant of miniaturization,
Allow me to introduce m friends,|m colleagues,
these devoted and passionate musicians,
Ain't no smokin' in this house,
What do ou think, General?|Present an problems?
Good then, Gentlemen, wh don't we|crowd around and go over the plan?
Gentlemen, this is the Bandit Queen,|Gambling den, Cash cow,
Sodom of the Mississippi Delta|and the focus of our little exercise,
Here is Orchard Street,
Here is the residence of Marva Munson,
the charming lad whom ou all met|moments ago,
Gentlemen, l'm sure ou're all aware
that the Solons of the state of|Mississippi, to wit, its legislature,
have decreed that no gaming|establishment shall be erected
within its borders upon dr land,
The ma, however, legall float,
While the gambling activit is restricted|to these riverboats, no such restrictions
appl to the functions ancillar|to this cash-besotted business,
The casino's offices, locker rooms,
facilities to cook and clean, and,|most importantl, its counting houses,
the reinforced, secret,|super-secure repositories of the lucre,
ma all be situated,,, wherever,
- Gawain, where is ''wherever''?|- Sa what?
- Where's the mone?|- Oh,
OK, look,|At the end of ever shift,
pit boss brings the cash down to|the hold of the ship in a locked cashbox,
and once a da all the cash is moved|down to the countin' room,
And where is the counting room?
Uh,,, it be right there in that square|where ou pointin',
And what,|to flog a horse that if not dead
is at this point in mortal danger of expiring,|does this little square represent?
Offices, Underground,
Ha!|Underground! Mmm!
During the casino's hours of operation,
the door to this counting room|is fiercel guarded,
The door itself is of redoubtable|Pittsburgh steel,
When the casino closes this entire|underground complex is locked up,
and the armed guard|retreats to the casino's main entrance,
There, then, far from the guard,|reposes the mone,
behind a five-inch-thick steel portal, es,|But the walls,,,
the walls are but humble masonr
behind which is onl the soft,|loam soil deposited over centuries
b the Old Man,|the meanderin' Mississippi,
as it fanned its wa back and forth across|the great alluvial plain, leaving earth,
This earth,
The General here, whose|curriculum vitae comprehends
massive tunnelin' experience through|the soil of his native french lndochina,
shall be directin'|our little old tunnelin' operation,
Garth Pancake, though a master of none,|is a jack of all those trades
corollar to our aim,
He will be doin' such fabricatin'|and demolition work
- as our little caper shall require,|- Happ to be on board,
Gawain is our proverbial ''inside man,''
He has managed to secure himself a berth|on the custodial staff of the Bandit Queen,
- Damn skipp!|- And this brings us to Lump,
To look at Lump, ou might wonder|what specialized expertise
could he possibl offer|our merr little old band of miscreants,
Well, gentlemen,|in a project of such risks,
it is imperative to enlist the services of a|hooligan, a goon, an ape, a phsical brute,
Someone who will be our securit,|our battering ram, our blunt instrument,
And, on our behalf,|l wish him a warm Mississippi welcome,
- fuckin' A,|- Whassup, m nigga?
Well, gentlemen, here ou are,
Men of different backgrounds|and differing talents,
Men with, in fact,|but two things in common:
One, ou all saw fit to answer m|advertisement in the Memphis Scimitar,
and two, ou're all going to be,|in consequence,
ver, ver, incredibl,,, rich,
Let us revel in our adventure, gentlemen,
Let us make beautiful music together,
and, b all means,|let us keep this to ourselves,
What we sa in this root cellar,|let it sta in this root cellar,
There's no ''l'' in ''team'',
Trouble in and trouble out
Trouble's What this World's about
Troubles of this World|the Devil's in this World
Trouble in, trouble out
Trouble's What this World's about
Troubles of this World|the Devil's in this World
You up the river Without a paddle|in a lot of trouble
Without a doubt you going under|running out of bubbles
Pass me the body bag|Watch me dump 'em
It ain't nothing for you|to get squashed like a pumpkin
I try so hard and play my cards|afraid to fall, I ain't involved
I gotta call|I'm much appalled
I came to O Z|and broke the laWs
Bring on the casket|ain't too glad
'Cause dirty hazard|Wrapped in plastic
lt's OK, Don't stop on account of me,
No, No, no, no, no,|Not at all, madam,
Not at all, We were about to|take a break anwa,
The glissandi on this particular piece|are technicall ver, ver demanding,
and l'm sure we would all welcome|a moment of R and R,
Well, l just thought|mabe ou'd like to see,,,
What have ou gotten into, hone?|Wh ou sweatin' like that?
Uh,,, Uh,,,
Uh, eh, 'cause, 'cause,,,|That bo right there?
He plas one bitch barrel|full of a sackbut!
- Ain't that right, Lump?|- Uh-huh,
l'm tellin' ou, he can tear it up,|Right, Lump?
Ain't nobod pla the sackbut|like Lump right there, He,,,
Don't be sh, Lump,|Don't be sh, Lump, that bo, he go,,,
at it like it was some puss!
- Oh, shit!|- Mind our mouth!
This is a Christian house, bo,|No hippit-hop language in here,
- Sometime it's the onl wa,|- Now listen, ou ain't gonna hit me,,,
l'm trin' to help ou, bo, better ourself!
And so ou should, madam,|So ou should,
Gawain is so far transported
b his love of the music of|the earl Renaissance,,,
Don't make me no never-mind,|he transported!
- l understand,|- You been smokin'?
Oh, certainl not, ma'am,|l understand our indignation, ma'am,
And l was offering an explanation,|not an excuse,
- l mself am,,,|- He, he, he,,,
,,,don't be explainin' me, dawg!
You can't read|m motherfuckin' mind, man!
You might got o' Ph,D,,|but l got m GED!
- Yes,|- Nigga!
A fier lad,,, but then outh is fier,
A fact often remarked upon|b the poets of the Romantic era,
M outh, l was in church,|l wasn't walkin' around fier,
Youth ain't no excuse for nothin',
Anhow, l just came to show ou the fife,|Othar's fife, Burned his own,
l thought mabe, ou bein'|a man of music, ou'd be interested,
Oh, indeed l am,
Cut it hisself and burned his holes,
The lsraelites called it a khalil,
Yeah, ou can read all about it in|the Bible, Ain't nothin' new under the sun,
lndeed not,
Gone these 20 ears,
He was some kind of man,
Blowed the khalil,
l don't suppose Othar ever turned his hand
or, or turned his lip|to blowing the shofar?
The ceremonial ram's horn|sounded b the priests of the Hebrews,
No, l don't know nothin' about that,|Othar never blowed no shofar!
- Of course not,|- Not to the extent of m knowledge,
The khalil was good enough|for m Othar,
He was some kind of man,
Some kind of man,
Oh, goddamn! Come on, girl,|let me get one little peek,
Don't be cruel,|Come on, just one butt cheek,
Pull that ass out and make it clap,
Aw, just 'cause l'm dressed like a janitor,|don't mean ou gotta do me dirt,
This muthafucka's hit the jackpot,|Come on, girl,
Come over here and blow on these dice,
You know, l'm a seven on the roll now,|but l'm a 1 0 the hard wa,
and l ain't just talkin' crap,
Mr, Gudge, she had a ass|that could pull a bus,
l mean, Gudge, it was more than an ass,|it was literature,
Yeah, l don't care how big her ass was,|MacSam, You're fired,
You sa what?
There is no fraternizing with customers|on the Bandit Queen,
- Clean out our locker,|- But, Mr, Gudge, l wasn't fraterniz,,,
l said get outta here,|You're fired,
You can't fire me!|l'll sue our ass!
Sue me?|for what?
for fuckin' punitive damages, man!
- Punitive damages,|- Yeah,
Punitive damages,|You goddamn skipp!
- Punitive damages,|- l see wh ou firin' me, Mr, Gudge,
Yeah, it's simple and plain,|You firin' me 'cause l'm black,
MacSam, everbod|on the custodial staff is black,
Your replacement is gonna be black,
His replacement, no doubt, will be black!
Well, the fuckin' judge is goin' be black,|muthafucka,
- Oh,|- And ou?
- You gon' stand tall before the man,|- Oh,
And our replacement's gonna be black,
- muthafucka!|- Thank ou,
Oh, m,
Oh, m, m, m,|m, m, m, m,
This is a severe setback,
l am distraught,|l'm more than distraught,
l am devastated,
l-l'm beside mself,|l'm at a positive loss for words,
- You still talkin' OK, though,|- Have ou all decided?
Madam, we must have waffles,|We must all have waffles forthwith,
We must all think,|We must all have waffles
and think, each and ever one of us,|to the ver best of his abilit,
Perhaps if ou apologized to the man|and gave him flowers,
Or perhaps a fruit basket
with a card depicting a mist seascape|and inscribed with a sentiment,
l ain't apologizin' to that muthafucka,|He fired me 'cause l'm black!
He can't do that, You could sue him,|Open and shut case,
- fuckin' A,|- Surel a chocolate assortment
has been known to melt the heart|of even the hardest misanthrope,
That man ain't rollin' over|for no fucking cand bar,
Uh, we've had a bit of a setback|on the tunneling front, too,
- We've run into a prett large rock,|- Rock!
- Ver bad, Ver bad,|- Oh, m,
Seems that the poet was right,
Troubles never singl come,
Oh, no, we can get through the rock,|No worries there,
Easiest thing in the world,|Wh, we just blow right through it,
l got a pro license,|Just, uh, bore a hole in the rock
and pack in a little plastique,|lgneous blows prett good,
- And then we could,,,|- Hello, Garth,
- Am l ordering the primer cord?|- Yes, Mountain,
We were just talking about that,|and some plastique,
- What the fuck is this?|- Oh, this is Mountain Girl,
Mountain is m right hand,|She helps me out with ordnance,
- Helps me with,,, damn near everthing,|- He,
You brought o' bitch to the Waffle Hut?
l must confess mself|to be puzzled as well,
l thought it was understood that|when it came to our little enterprise,
''mum'' was the word,
Of course, l understand that,|but this is Mountain Girl,
l don't keep secrets from Mountain,
That's not how ou maintain a loving,|caring relationship,
You brought o' bitch to the Waffle Hut!
The man brought his bitch,,,|to the Waffle Hut!
All right, look, ou, l will thank ou|to stop referring to Mountain that wa,
She is the other half of m life,
Everbod lookin' at me like l'm some kind|of fuck-up for losin' a sorr-ass job,
and this muthafucka brings his bitch
- to the muthafuckin' Waffle Hut!|- Son-of-a-bitch punk!
- Shut our goddamn mouth!|- You better raise the fuck up, fucka!
- Gentlemen, please,|- Back the fuck up!
You gon' back that shit the fuck up!
- Gentlemen, please,|- What?! What?!
Please, gentlemen, this behavior does ou|no credit in the ees of our colleagues,
nor in those of the other patrons|of this Waffle Hut,
Little punk,
Oh, look at this,|l got blueberr srup on m safari jacket!
Gentlemen, l propose that we consider|the matter of this woman,
- Mountain Water,,,|- Mountain Girl,
l'm so ver sorr, l propose|that we consider this matter closed,
And we shall choose to trust her|since we have no choice,
and since she shall share onl|in Mr, Pancake 's portion of the boot,
Of course,|Wouldn't have it an other wa,
- Yeah, ou damn right ou won't,|- Up ours, punk,
- Oh, fuck ou and the Swiss Miss,|- The matter of disposing
- of our igneous impediment is also,,,|- C-Coach,,, Coach,,,
- C-C-Coach, l,,,|- ,,,closed, Settled,
That leaves us onl with the question|of Gawain retrieving his job,
- Coach, l,,,|- Yes, Lump?
Couldn't we just bribe the gu?
You are a readin' fool,|aren't ou, Mr, Dorr?
Yes, l must confess,
l often find mself more at home|in these ancient volumes
than l do in the hustle-bustle|of the modern world,
To me, paradoxicall, the literature|of the so-called ''dead tongues''
holds more currenc|than this morning's newspaper,
ln these books, in these volumes,
there is the accumulated wisdom|of mankind, which succors me
when the da is hard|and the night lonel and long,
Mm, The wisdom of mankind, huh?
- What about the wisdom of the Lord?|- Oh,,,
Yes, es, The Good Book, mm,|l have found reward in its pages,
But, to me, there are other|good books as well,
Heav volumes of antiquit freighted|with the insights of man's glorious age,
And then, of course, l just love, love, love|the works of Mr, Edgar Allan Poe,
Oh, l know who he was,|Kinda spook,
No, madam, no, no,
Not of this world, it's true,
He,,, he lived in a dream,|An ancient dream,
Th beaut is to me
Like those Nicean barks of ore,
That gentl, o'er a perfumed sea,
The wear, waworn wanderer bore
To his own native shore,''
Who was Helen?
- Some kinda whore of Bablon?|- One doesn't know who Helen was,,,
but l picture her as being ver, ver,,,
Mrs, Munson, l have been tring
to figure out some wa of|expressin' m gratitude to ou
for takin' in this wear, waworn wanderer,
lt's just a little old present,|Wh, it's hardl anthing at all,
Oh, wh, Mr, Dorr!|You are a gallant man,
Oh, madam, l blush, l melt,|No,,,
l just happened to hear|of this gospel concert tomorrow night,
''The Might, Might Clouds of Jo'',
and l thought ou and a friend|from church perhaps would,,,?
- Yes, l have a widow lad friend,|- The concert is up in Memphis,
so l have arranged a car service|to transport ou thither,
Wh, Sheriff Wner!|How ou doin'?
Good evenin', Mrs, Munson,
l just stopped b here to let ou know|l did have a talk with Weemack,
and he told me he's gonna compl|with our request
in keepin' that music down|and neighborl,
So ou just go and have ourself|a pleasant evenin',
Wait a minute,|l got somebod that l want ou to meet,
Uh, ma'am, ou know what? l'm,,,|l'm a little pressed for time,
You got a gang of bank robbers|ouse chasin'?
Come on in here and sa hello,
Yeah, we was in here, havin' tea and,,,
Bussed his own dishes,|You can alwas tell a gentleman,
- Somebod was in here, ma'am?|- Yeah, with me and Othar,
Well, ou know what?|Mabe l'll catch him the next time,
Oh, come on up to his room|with me and sa hello,
l got a famil,|M wife got dinner on the table,
l reall have to be goin',
- Oh, m, He is neat!|- Yes, ma'am, he ver neat,
He probabl went down to the cellar|to pla with his friends,
Ma'am, l reall got to be goin' now,
- What,,,?|- Ma'am, l reall need to be gettin' back,
Mrs, Munson, don't,,,|You don't have to,,,
Mrs, Munson?
Wh, Professor!
What in the world are ou doin'|havin' tea down there?
Uh,,, Mrs, Munson?
Oh, Lord Jesus,
- Mrs, Munson?|- Land of Goshen, child!
- Come on out from under there!|- Mrs, Munson, m pager just went off,
l got to go, Mm-hm,|l'll meet ou and our friend later,
That was refreshing,
Y'all have a good evenin' now!
As ou know, we academics are|inordinatel fond of wedgin' ourselves
- into confined spaces,|- Mm!
At Yale, the students will see how man|of their number the can enclose
in a telephone booth,|At Harvard, a broom closet,
Oh! Hope l didn't spill m tea,
Well, what the hell is this?
l guess it's just m wa of sain', um,,,
Oh, well, goddamn it, Mr, Gudge,|Look here, l,,,
l don't know what it's like|walkin' in our shoes,
You know, with ou bein'|a tight-ass and all,
And l'm prett sure ou don't know|what it's like walkin' in m shoes,
See, Mr, Gudge,|there's the custodian, right?
And then there's the man|inside the custodian,
And that's the motherfucker|we got a problem with,
See, 'cause that man,|he got needs, Mr, Gudge,
and normall those needs|gotta do with women with big asses,
l guess m point bein' is|l realize l'm a bunkie junkie,
But if ou woulda seen the kettle drums|on this girl, Mr, Gudge, whew!
Well,,, we all human,
This apolog bus ou|a one-week probationar period,
Thank ou, Mr, Gudge,
Sta awa from the customers,|MacSam,
This drill bit's getting awfull hot,
Gawain, mabe ou could fill a Hudson|spraer and spritz it down while l drill,
fuck ou, l ain't our motherfuckin'|house nigger, l'm the inside man,
All right, look, are ou gonna have|a bug up our ass
for the rest of the time we|work together?
- l'll get the spraer,|- Oh, no, no, No,
Me and this gentleman here|have to get square,
Let me tell ou somethin', MacSam,
l'm gonna tell ou about|how l came down to Mississippi,
l wasn't born here, ou know,|l'm from Scranton, Pennslvania,
What the fuck?
Scranton, Pennslvania,|Came down here in 1 964, Grehound bus,
With the freedom Riders,
Do ou know who|the freedom Riders were, MacSam?
No, and l don't give a fuck,
Just tell me when the fuck|the gonna leave, Damn!
The freedom Riders,|m fine oung man,
were a group of concerned liberals|from up north,
all working together,|just like we are here,
lnvolved citizens who came down here
so that local black folk|could have their civil liberties,
So that people like ou|could have the vote,
- You know what, man?|- What, brother?
- l don't vote, So fuck ou,|- You little fuckin' ingrate,
- And the bus ou rode in on, jackass!|- Let's step outside, MacSam!
fuck the outside!|Come on! What?!
M friend Mrs, funthes is here,|so l'm about to go out,
Just thought l'd leave 'all|with some cinnamon cookies,
Wh, that is lovel,
Ooh, 'all sound good!
(chuckles) Mabe ou could come b|the church one Sunda,,,
- give us a recital,|- Wh, how kind of ou!
Our music, however, is, uh,,,|well, how shall l put this?
Uh, a bit Roman in its outlook,
Uh, man of our pieces were|commissioned b the Hol See,
Oh, l see, all right,
but we don't make no big|whoop-dee-do about denomination,
Everbod welcome at our church,|Yeah, we had a Methodist come in,
Episcopalian, Back in the '60s,|we had a Jew come in!
- He had a guitar,|- (chucking) A Jew with a guitar,
lf ou will excuse me one moment, madam,|l shall, uh, l shall see ou out,
lf ou gentlemen can labor harmoniousl|in the course of m absence,
perhaps upon m return|we shall be prepared to explode
that vexin' old piece of igneous,
Oh, Professor!|This is Mrs, funthes,
Enchanté, Mrs, funthes, Allow me,
Rosalie, this is Professor|G,H, Dorr , Ph,D,
Oh, m, That's an awful lot of letters,
Oh, well, no,
Of course, in m outh,|l was known simpl as Goldthwait,
All right, safet meeting,
Let's listen up, General,|can ou hand me the primer cord?
Before we set the charge,|we will run through our procedure,
l have earplugs for whoever wants them,|Just wedge those right in our ears,
Now, here we have,,,|Not et, Lump,
- Oh,|- Now, primer cord,
Gelatinite, C-4,
Time comes, we pack the hole|in the rock with the C-4
and insert two leads: A and B,
l remember m father sain' to me -
and it's one of the few memories|l retain of the man
from one of his visits home,|and how l do cherish it -
he said to me, ''Goldthwait,|ou are not formed as other bos,''
He a man of learnin'?
This is the same procedure we will|be using when we collapse the tunnel
after entering the casino vault|and returning to the root cellar,
He was a self-educated man,|Didn't have a career as such,
but the government did recognize|the breadth of his readin'
b makin' him librarian|of the state nervous hospital in Meridian,
where he was a distinguished inmate,
Once these materials are combined|onl the professionals ma handle them,
That means me or the General,
Separatel the are harmless,|completel inert,
Wh, ou could light this stuff on fire,|hit it with a ham,,,
What in the name of|heavens was that?
Well, um,,, l'm quite certain there's|absolutel no reason to be alarmed,
Wh, l'm not even absolutel certain|l heard anthing at all,
Didn't hear nothin'?!
Well, something perhaps,
Nothing that need discompose us|was the sense l was trin' to conve,
Now, Mrs, Munson, l will not have ou|missin' our musical recital, Off ou go!
l shall call the gas compan,|or the water compan,
Whatever subterranean utilit|is implicated in this contretemps,
l shall see to the matter,|as onl a highl educated classicist could,
Blood! Blood, Professor, blood!|Blood, blood, blood!
(Pancake) lt's nothin' to make a fuss about,|lt's perfectl all right,
Jackass! You better get o' ass back|down there and find that shit, dipshit!
- Reall, l'm perfectl all right,|- Perfectl all right?
Jackass, ou just blew|our goddamn finger off!
The muthafucka down there|flappin' the fuck around!
You better get o' ass|back down there and find it!
l'm tellin' ou right now, nubbie,|l ain't pickin' up our goddamn finger!
l gather there was a premature detonation,
Would ou tell this muthafucka|he can sew this shit back on?!
lt's like that dude whose wife cut|his dick off, threw it on the freewa?
She just called Triple A,
the towed the dick|and sewed the muthafucka back on!
Listen up! Jackass,|l saw the muthafucka in a porno!
The thang still worked!|lt looked like a chewed-up frank,
but that little muthafucka|be workin' that muthafucka!
lt's mangl, but he be fuckin' the bitch|all kind of was with a twisted dick!
Oh! Your fuckin' finger just moved!|The muthafucka movin' slow now!
l'm not gettin' that shit,|fuck that! You're on our own there!
The usin' the house|to practice music,,, of the Rococo,
l propose we get our fallen comrade|to the hospital,
The General will follow when|he manages to recover the severed digit,
No, no, reall, l'm perfectl all right,|l don't know what all the fuss is about,
- Good news! Good news!|- Pickles! Go get him!
The house is in apple-pie order,
though we do have to get|medical attention for Mr, Pancake,
who, durin' the disturbance, pinched|his finger in the valve of his sackbut,
You let the cat out!
Wha,,,? The General is even now|exercisin' ever effort in retrievin'
our mischievous little Pickles,|Please, go on,
Go on and enjo the concert!|Driver! Au revoir, mesdames,
(Dorr) Despite our setback,|we find ourselves on schedule
to penetrate the vault here this afternoon,|while Mrs, Munson is at church,
havin' blasted that little old rock to pieces|durin' Mrs, Munson's choir practice,
Garth, can ou run us through the|game plan for what remains of our tunnel?
Of course, Wh, it's child's pla now,|Easiest thing in the world,
Onl a couple of feet|separate us from the vault,
Just the usual spadework|until we get to the masonr of the vault,
and then we just drill through,
And will ou be able to wield the drill|with our maimed extremit?
Oh, well, eah, l should think so,|Yeah, it's, uh, it's onl one finger,
lnhibits me in doing finer work of course,|l'll alwas have to live with that,
(clears throat)
Mabe - l'm just thinkin' out loud here -
mabe, since as ou sa|there will be problems later,
mabe - and l actuall mentioned this|to Mountain Girl, she agrees with me,
so it's not just one person's opinion -|mabe, uh,,,
l should get a little extra compensation|for the accident,
Somewhat larger share,
Wh, if this was an other line of work,|l'd be getting workman's comp,
Wouldn't l?|Might even have a prett good lawsuit,
Wait, so ou gonna sue ourself|for blowing our own goddamn finger off?
- Well, now that is simpl asinine,|- Yes, but ou see, Garth,
this is not what ou just called|''some other line of work,''
Yeah, no, no, no, but if it were,,,
This is a criminal enterprise,|not to put too fine a point on it,
entailing an manner of risk|not involved in honest labor,
Governmental regulations|and civic safeguards
cannot be assumed to appl|to antisocial pursuits,
- Yeah, but he lost his finger,|- We don't give a fuck!
That fool could blow his goddamn dick off,|it don't make no nevermind to us!
We not pain' this jackass for goin' around|blowin' off goddamn bod parts!
Get o' fuckin' head out o' ass, man!
Look ou, there is no call for,,,
No extra share!
OK, Majorit rules,
Like l sa, it was just a trial balloon,|Hand's not so bad reall,
l even get some phantom feeling,
Yeah, ou pull on our prick,|ou get some phantom feelin',
- fuck ou,|- fuck ou,
- fuck ou!|- fuck ou, nubbie!
Well, now that that matter is settled,
wh don't we snchronize our watches|before Gawain reports to work,
ln 20 seconds, it will be exactl 1 2:1 6,
- fifteen,,,|- What, it'll be 1 2:1 5?
No, 1 5 seconds, Well, 1 1 seconds now,|lt'll be 1 2:1 6,
- Eight, seven,,,|- Professor? Prof,,,?
- ,,,six,,,|- Professor?
,,,five,,,|Yes, Lump!
l don't have a watch,
There'll be no more|weepin' and wailin'
No more weepin' and wailin'
No more weepin' and wailin'
Home to live with God|Oh,,,
Soon l will be done|with the troubles of this world
Troubles of this world|Troubles of this world
Oh, soon l will be done|with the troubles of this world
l'm goin' home to live with God
Soon l will be done|with the troubles of this world
Troubles of this world|Troubles of this world
Troubles of this world
Soon l will be done|with the troubles of this world
l'm goin' home to live with God
Well, soon l will be done|with the troubles of this world
Troubles of this world|Troubles of this, great God!
Soon l will be done|with the troubles of this world
l'm goin' home to live with God
Well, l'm goin' up to see King Jesus|He, he, eah!
l'm gonna shake His loving hand
l'm gonna tell Him all about m trouble
As l'm travelin' through this land!
Oh, soon l will be done
Troubles of this world
Yeah, soon l will be done
l'm goin' home to live with God
Yeah, soon l will be done|with the troubles of this world
Troubles of this world
Yeah, soon l will be done|with the troubles, eah
l'm goin' home to live with God
Ain't that somethin'!
- l,B,S,|- You be what?
lrritable Bowel Sndrome!|ls there a men's room down here?
Oh, come on, You shouldn't be usin'|the men's room now!
Or a lad's room, (sniffs) Quickl,|l,B,S,
lf ou knew ou had the runs,|wh didn't ou shit back at the house?
We don't want Elron finding|our stinkin' ass on the crapper!
No choice,|lt's a medical condition, Quickl!
You one disgustin' individual,|ou know that?
Come on,|follow me,
(toilet flushes)
l feel 30 pounds lighter,
- Come the fuck on with our stinkass,|- Thank ou for being so understanding,
Not everone is, of course, which is wh|the biggest challenge of l,B,S,
is educating the public,
Afflicts over two million people,|et most of us have never heard of it,
And it strikes without regard to age,|gender or race,
Oh, fuck, man,|l don't wanna hear about this shit,
Well, that's exactl the kind|of attitude we're fighting,
l guess l never told ou that's how|Mountain Girl and l met,
The had an l,B,S, weekend|at Grossinger's up in the Catskills,
Of course, the tourist business|there has suffered
with the demise of the Borscht Belt,
so the have various promotions,|mixers, so on,
This was a weekend for lrritable Bowel|singles to meet and support each other
- and share stories,|- Man, look here,
l don't want to hear|a single one of them stories, OK?
- Now, some of them are ver moving,|- Not one fucking stor!
- Look, l didn't choose to have l,B,S,|- Man, shut the fuck up!
There's no cure, ou know,|Onl control, Lifelong condition,
Yeah, ou know what?|Bein' an asshole's a lifelong condition, too,
Just drop the fuckin' tools,
l'm not complaining,|l did meet Mountain Girl,
Man, get back in the fuckin' hole!
Oh! (laughs) Marvel,,, Marvelous, Marv,,,|This wa! This wa, gentlemen!
Oh! Excellent! Excellent,|flawless, flawless, Thumbs up,
Can't stop shittin',|Can't stop talkin' about shittin',
Gentlemen, to we few, We who have|shared each other's compan,
each other's cares, each other's jos,
and who shall now reap the fruits|of our communal efforts,
shoulder to shoulder,|from each according to his abilities,
so forth and whatnot,
We have had our little differences|along the wa,
but l'd like to think that the've onl|made us value one another all the more,
Each of us coming to understand|and appreciate
the other's unique qualities|and potencies and, es, foibles,
l suggest that we shall|look back upon this little caper one da,
one distant da,|grandchildren dandled upon our knee,
and perhaps a tear will form|and we shall sa,
''Well, with wit and grit|and no small amount of courage,
we accomplished something on that da,
a feat of derring-do,|an enterprise not ignoble,''
We merr band, unbound|b the constraints of societ
and the prejudices of the common ruck,
We happ few,
- Gentlemen, to us!|- (all) To us!
Charge shoulda gone off alread,
l do beg our pardon?
The charge to collapse the tunnel,|l set it for eight minutes,
Well, that much time and more|has certainl elapsed,
l need not remind ou,|it is of the essence of this plan
that the mone should appear to have|simpl vanished without a trace,
- spirited awa, as it were, b ghosts,|- Of course,
The conundrum of the undisturbed,|et empt vault,
the unsolvable riddle|of the sealed et violated sanctum,
is of the utmost importance,
not onl to make our caper|more intellectuall satisfing,
it is exigent as a matter of practical fact,
l remind ou that if an tunnel|is ever found leading to this house,
the owner knows all our names,
(stomach rumbling)
(''Trouble of This World'')
You just fart?
Nope, nope, l'm fine,|Perfectl all right! Not a problem!
There's no hole left,
l'm surprised!
Well,,, uh,,, properl speaking, madam,|we are surprised, You are taken aback,
Though l do acknowledge|that the sense that ou intend
is gaining increasing currenc|through its use, es,
You have returned from|our devotions betimes,
l had to make tea,
l want to talk to ou, Professor,|so don't ou be leavin'!
And ou! l told ou l don't want|an smokin' in this house!
(doorbell rings)
Oh, come on in!
How ou doin'?
Tea, ladies,
Now, l don't know what|ou bos been up to,
but l know mischief when l see it,|Now, l want an explanation, but first,
l want ou to get our fannies up here|with all 'all's period instruments,
Now, l been tellin' the ladies about our|music, and the want to hear ou pla,
- Professor?|- Yes, Lump?
l can't reall pla the buttsack,
(chattering stops)
Madam, or rather, mesdames,
ou must accept our apologies|for not bein' able to perform,
for, as ou see, we are shorthanded,
Gawain is still at work,
and we could no more pla|with one part tacit
than a horse could canter sh one leg,
Perhaps l could offer,
as a poor but read substitute,|a brief poetic recital,
Though l do not pretend|to an great oratorical skills, (laughs)
l would be happ to present,|with our ladies' permission,
verse from the unquiet mind|of Mr, Edgar Allan Poe,
''Ladies, th beaut is to me
Like those Nicean barks of ore,
That gentl, o'er a perfumed sea,|The wear, waworn wanderer bore
To his own native shore,''
- (ladies sigh)|- M, m, m,
''On desperate seas long wont to roam,
Th hacinth hair, th classic face,
Th Naiad airs have brought me home
To the glor that was Greece|And the grandeur that was Rome,''
(tea lady #1) Glor hallelujah,
(all) Amen!
(Dorr) Be-be, ladies,|lt was,,, it was m pleasure,
- (tea lady #1) We have to do this again,|- (tea lady #2) Yes, we do got to,
Such a pleasure,|Safe home, Safe home,
(Mrs. Munson chuckles)
- Now l want to know what's goin' on,|- Oh, indeed, indeed,
The thirst for knowledge|is a ver commendable thing,
Though l do believe that when ou hear|the explanation ou shall laugh riotousl,
slappin' our knee and perhaps even|wipin' awa a gidd tear,
relieved of our former concern,
Lump here is an avid collector|of lndian arrowheads,
and having found one|simpl ling on our cellar floor -
- a particularl rare artifact|of the Natchez tribe? -
Nats,,, what?
He enlisted the entire ensemble in|an all-out effort to sift through the subsoil
in search of others,
And apparentl, in doing so,|we hit a mother lode of natural gas,
l mself became acutel aware|of the smell of ''rotten eggs,''
And it was just at this inopportune moment
that the General here|violated the cardinal rule of this house
- and lit himself a cigarette,|- So sorr,
Well, what about all that mone?
The mone,|Well, the mone is Mr, Pancake's,
- (clears throat) That's right,|- Who onl just remortgaged his home
in order to raise the mone|for a surgical procedure
that will correct the wandering ee|of his common-law wife, Mountain Water,
who suffers from astigmia, strabismus|and a general curdling of the vitreous jell,
Mr, Pancake is an ardent foe|of the federal Reserve,
and is, in fact, one of those eccentrics|one often reads about
hoardin' his entire life savings,
in Mr, Pancake 's case, in a Heft bag|that is his constant companion,
- The Steel Sak,|- Don't trust the banks, Never have,
lt don't smell right to me,
- l'm callin' Sheriff Wner,|- No! Madam!
Please, please,|Madam!
No, no, l beg of,,,|Yes! Yes!
lt is a lie!|lt is a fantastic tale!
You have us dead to rights,|but, madam, please, please, please
allow me to tell ou the truth in private,
Madam, we are not musicians|of the late Renaissance,
- Nor of the earl, nor mid period,|- Mm-hm,
We are, in fact,
Desperate men, Mrs, Munson,
We have tunneled into the nearb offices|of the Bandit Queen gambling emporium
- and relieved it of its treasure,|- Lord have merc,
lt is true,
The Bandit Queen is a den of iniquit,
a painted harlot luring people into sin|b exciting the vice of greed
with her promise of eas winnings,|Oh, es,
Her gains are ill-gotten,
But, l offer no excuses - save one,
We men have each pledged|one half of our share of the boot
to a charitable institution,
ln compensation for the use of our home,
we had planned to donate a full share|to Bob Jones Universit,
without burdening ou with guilt|knowledge b informing ou of same,
But now ou have wrested|the information from me,
There ou have it,|lt is on our table, Mrs, Munson,
The ''awful truth,''
- Stolen mone,|- But find the victim, Mrs, Munson,
l challenge ou, Even the casino itself,|that riparian Gomorrah,
shall suffer no harm,
lt has an insurance compan,
A financial behemoth that will|cheerfull replenish its depleted vaults,
That is its function,
And that insurance compan has tens|and tens of thousands of policholders,
So that,,, We have done the calculations,|Mrs, Munson,
So that at the end of the da,|at the final reckoning,
each and ever one of those policholders|shall have contributed one penn,
One, single, solitar cent|to the satisfaction of this claim,
- One penn?|- One penn, Think of it, Mrs, Munson,
One penn from those thousands|upon thousands of people
so that Bob Jones Universit|can continue on its mission,
Wh, l have no doubt that,|were those polic holders made aware
of the existence of that august institution,|each and ever one of them
would have volunteered some token|amount for the furtherance of its aims,
Well, that's prob'l true,
Sadl, the criminal stain|is upon m soul,
but the benefit shall accrue|to an number of worth causes
as long, that is, as the secret|stas with us,
l can't hardl see the harm in it,
- One penn?|- (mouthing) One penn,
- l'm sorr,|- Excuse me?
No, l'm sorr, it's wrong, and don't ou|be leadin' me into temptation,
- No, no, madam, l must strenuousl,,,|- l'm sorr, it's just plain wrong,
- Stealin'!|- No, madam,,,
- l know our intentions was good,|- No, the weren't!
And l won't call the police|if ou give back the mone
and 'all go to church with me|next Sunda,
And engage in divine worship?!
l've made up m mind,
Now, ou can doubletalk all ou want,|lt's church or the count jail,
Think it over,|l gotta feed the cat,
(plucks strings)
- Motherfuck!|- Yes,
Unfortunatel, Mrs, Munson|has rather complicated the situation,
Yeah, well, l know how to decomplicate it,
You bust a cap in that old bitch's head,|everthing be simple,
Not eas to do,|Man reasons,
Practical ones:|Quiet neighborhood, sleep town,
Reasons of moral repugnance:|A harmless woman,
a deed conceived|and executed in cold blood,
Oh, no, Gawain,|would that it were simple,
Well, fuck, man! What we gonna do?|Give the mone back and go to church?
l shudder,|l quake,
You, sir, are a Buddhist,
ls there not a ''middle'' wa?
Must float like a leaf on the river of life,,,
,,,and kill old lad,
Yes, es, l suppose ou are right,
lt is the active nature of the crime,|though, that so abhors,
The squeezing of the trigger,|the plunging of the knife,
But,,, let us think a moment,
What other tools do we have at hand?
We have the cellar,
We have the cavit,
We have masonr and trowel,
Perhaps we could simpl,,, immure her,
Sure, Easiest thing in the world, l can|whip up a little mortar in a snow saucer,
La the bricks,|Anchor in some chains,
Mountain Girl could outsource|the manacles,
Ah, gentlemen, gentlemen,|we delude ourselves,
No, shortest and painless is best,
Gawain's gun, retort muffled|b a pillow, into the brain,
(claps)|The affair of an instant,
The onl question is|who wields the weapon?
l believe it is traditional|in such circumstances to draw straws,
fair enough,|Here ou go, Lump,
l'm thinkin', though,|that since l lost a finger -
- and l mean literall lost it|'cause of that fuckin' cat -
mabe l should be|excused from this thing,
Hard for me to squeeze a trigger anwa,
You one whin muthafucka,
l'll come over there and squeeze our|fuckin' nutsack, ou keep that bullshit up,
Shut up, punk!
- l'll kick our goddamn ass, sweet-legs!|- Gentlemen!
No special pleading,|No exceptions,
lt is of the nature of the situation|we would all prefer to be excused,
Well, OK, it was just a trial balloon,
Long straw, You all see it,|All that fuss for nothin', punk,
fuck ou,
Lord, I'm troubled
Lord, I'm troubled
Lord, I'm troubled|Oh, Lord, by my soul
My Lord, but When|I get up in the Kingdom, Lord
I Won't be troubled no more
- Oh, Lord, I'm troubled|- Lord, I'm troubled
Lord, I'm troubled
- (TV) Oh, Would you like a hot cross bun?|- No, just an explanation.
Coming up!
- Ouisie, I'll take some cocoa.|- Hi, George.
What's goin' on?
George!|HoW did they get in here?!
(raucous laughter)
- What ou got there, Gawain?|- Wh, nothin', Mama,
Nothin', m ass!|You got a dog there!
- No, Mama,|- A filth, nois little pest of a pupp dog
- gonna shit all over the house!|- He won't shit in the house, Mama,
l'm gonna train him, l promise,|l'll train him real good!
l'm gonna train ou real good!
You wait till our dadd get home,|He gonna la into ou proper!
No, Mama! Please, Mama! l love ou!
Your dadd gonna kick o' ass!
Mama's whuppin' Gawain's ass!
Ain't ou gonna use the strap, Mama?
l love ou, Mama,|l'm sorr, Mama, l love ou,
Yeah, l'll wipe the dog's ass|and everthing, Mama,
l'll train him to shit in the toilet, Mama,
- l'll wipe his ass and everthing, Mama,|- What ou doin'?
What ou doin' with m pillow?
Nothin', ma'am,|l just came down to get a,,,
- Ugh!|- l'm displeased with ou!
- Yeah, but,,,|- fine colored bo like ou
- fallin' in with that trash downstairs!|- Ugh!
Now, l know our mama|taught ou better than that!
l can't do it,|She remind me of m mama,
- Look, man,,,|- Wh, this is most irregular,
,,,'all muthafuckas|just gonna have to draw straws again,
Wait a minute, You've got to accept|our responsibilities, oung man,
and shoot that old lad,
He, man, fuck ou|and our irritated bowel!
Must shoot,
Now, look here,|it's the easiest thing in the world,
Just pretend her head's a casaba melon|and the gun is a melon baller,
What the fuck are ou talkin' about?|A melon baller?
- Look, man, ou do it,|- Oh, this is most irregular,
Now, look, with equal rights|comes equal responsibilit,
l'm afraid Mr, Pancake is correct,|We cannot draw straws again,
The exercise would lose all credibilit|if ou show the loser can simpl beg off,
Must shoot,
He, look, man,|she's just an old colored lad to ou,
Come on, man, ou do it,
- Wh, ou sniveling little coward,|- What did ou sa to me?
- Sniveling little coward,|- You whin muthafucka,
l will come up o' stankin',|irritated asshole with this gun
and give ou a lead colonic,|muthafucka!
You think ou scare me,|ou mewling punk?
You don't scare me, Bull Connor|and all his dogs didn't scare me!
Now, be a man,
You fuck!|You ain't no fuckin' man!
- Oh, m, this is most distressin',|- Be a man!
You ain't no fuckin' man!|fuckin' a 60-ear-old with pigtails!
Wh, ou bastard punk!|Mountain Girl is 53!
- She could ride our ass to jell!|- Oh, eah?!
(both grunting)
- Gentlemen, please!|- l seen Virginia hams
l'd rather stick m dick in|than that big ol' white chick!
Oh, m God,
Oh, no,
Oh, m,
- l think he's hit,|- (Lump) Oh, no,
l'll just check the carotid arter,
- That's a negative,|- ls he dead, Professor?
Oh, sure he's dead, Lump,|l just checked his carotid arter,
(Dorr) Well, this is most irregular,
We shall need a Heft bag,
She is in the kitchen,
You steal out with the carcass|while l dazzle her with conversation,
M dear Mrs, Munson, l have outlined|our position with m colleagues,
and l now return to ou|to render our collective verdict,
There was much spirited discussion|and an atmosphere of frank give-and-take,
Some of our number|were initiall appalled at our proposal
that we simpl return the mone,|Some were more receptive,
l don't care if the was receptive or not!
And that attitude, madam,|was a factor in our discussions,
To a man, l must sa|the were devastated at the prospect
of not being able to contribute|to their respective charities,
- Well, that is a shame,|- lndeed,
but at the end of the da,|our position prevailed,
So we have decided to return the mone,|ever last cent of it,
and attend Sunda services, rather than|spend the remainder of our das
wastin' awa at the Mississippi|Men's Correctional facilit,
Though that was the original|preference of some,
You are not assistin' with the cadaver,
Oh, no need,
Just chuck it off the bridge,|Easiest thing in the world,
- l'm just cleanin' up here,|- (door shuts)
Oh! That's them,|Back alread,
l'll just go dump these in the hearse,
Yeah, easiest thing in the world,
No extra share, huh?
(grunts/stomach rumbling)
- Mountain?|- Garth?
- l,B,S,, dear?|- (choking)
Oh, come
Let us go back
To God
- Go back to God|- Oh, come on
- Let's go back to God|- Let us go back
- Let's go back to God|- Come on
Let's go back to God
Get Garth,
Let us go back
To God
Go back to God
Excellent, l believe, at last,|we have the right man for the job,
(''Weeping Mary'')
(continues snoring)
They crucified the Savior
They crucified the Savior
They crucified the Savior
And nailed Him to the cross
(song continues)
(clock cuckoos)
(cat screeches)
The old woman is a more formidable|antagonist than one had imagined,
(foghorn bloWs)
Now, Lump,
it falls to ou to finish the job,
- The comed must end,|- You know,
- l've been doin' some thinkin', Professor,|- Oh, dear,
Mabe we should be goin' to church,|Mabe she is right,
Ooh, dear, Lump,|l feared those would be our words,
Not that l don't appreciate ou giving|the matter the benefit of our thought,
but recall, m dear bo,|our respective functions in this enterprise,
l am a professor, The professor,|as ou ourself so often sa, The thinker,
Trained, in fact, in the arts of cogitation,
You, Lump, are the goon,|the hooligan, the dumb brute,
whose actions must be directed|b a higher intelligence,
Yeah, l know, but,,,
Ah, ah, ah! No buts, dear bo,|Do not repeat the error of thinkin',
Now is the moment of praxis,|Now, Lump, ou must act,
Well, l can't do it, Professor,|A nice old lad like that,
Think of the riches, Lump,|that ou and l alone shall divide,
Yeah, l know, but,,,
And reflect also that if ou decline to act,|thus forcin' me to do so,
ou shall no longer have|an entitlement to the mone,
Your offices shall have been nugator,
You mean ou're gonna kill her?
Of course, es,|M hand shall be forced,
l can't allow ou to do that, Professor,
(laughs) You,,,
- ,,,allow?|- Mm-hm,
Not allow?
What presumption!
You stupid bo!
You ver, ver, extremel stupid bo,
Oh, eah?
Who looks stupid now?
No bullets?
Perhaps it had to be thus,
''Lo! in on brilliant window-niche
How statue-like l see thee stand,,,''
A raven,
'',,,The agate lamp within th hand!''
''Ah, Psche, from the regions which
Are Hol Land!''
(coat tears)
Professor? (gasps)
Mm, mm, mm!|Couldn't face the music,
l appreciate that, but we don't know|what to do, Tried that, too,
- Uh, Mrs, Munson,,,|- Gotta make a statement, Sheriff,
Ma'am, could it possibl wait?|We're kinda bus down here toda,
Oh, well, l suppose it could wait,|but it's about that casino mone,
Let me call ou back,|You know somethin' about it?
Somethin'? Everthing!|l got it at home,
- You got what at home?|- The mone! $1 ,6 million dollars,
- lt's down in m root cellar,|- How did it get there, Marva?
Well, a bunch of desperate men|stole it and put it there, that's how!
See, the was musicians|of the Renaissance period,
(chuckles) Turned out|the reall couldn't pla,
but the could recite poems|that'd break our heart,
- The ringleader spoke in dead tongues,|- Does he now?
Oh, l tried to get ou to see him,
- That night,|- Yes, ma'am,
l had to holler at 'em|about stealin' all that mone,
And l guess l made 'em feel real bad,
'cause the just picked up and left|without takin' the mone!
And the let Pickles out!
So ou want us to come over|and fetch him,
Oh, no, no, he's back,
What ou want me to do with the mone?
You keep it!|Wh don't ou keep it?
- Keep it?|- Go on and keep it, Miss Marva,
lt is just a penn off of everbod's polic,
- Could,,,?
- You don't suppose l could,,,?|- Yes, ma'am?
Could l just give it all|to Bob Jones Universit?
Yeah, That'd be nice,
Give it all to 'em!|That's a good idea!
As long as everbod knows,
(''Let Your Light Shine on Me''|by Blind Willie Johnson)
How ou doin'?
Pickles!|Oh, Lord, Pickles!
Shine on|Oh, let it shine on
Let it shine on
Let your light from the lighthouse|shine on me
Shine on|Oh, let it shine on
Let your light from the lighthouse|shine on
I knoW I've got religion|and I ain't ashamed to let
Your light from the lighthouse|shine on me
Angels in the heaven|done Wrote my name
Let your light from the lighthouse|shine on
Oh, let it shine on
Oh, let it shine on
Let your light from the lighthouse|shine on me
Shine on|Oh, let it shine on
Let your light from the lighthouse|shine on me
I knoW I got religion|and I ain't ashamed
Let our light from the lighthouse|shine on me
Angels up heaven|done Wrote my name
Let your light from the lighthouse|shine on me
- Come on, let it|- Shine on
- Come on noW, let it|- Shine on
Let your light from the lighthouse|shine on me
- Oh, let it|- Shine on
- Come on noW, let it|- Shine on
Come and let it
Let your light from the lighthouse|shine on me
- Let it shine|- Shine on
- Let it shine|- Shine on
- Let it shine|- Shine on
- You've got to let it shine|- Shine on
- If you Wandered in darkness|- Shine on
- You Want to see the light|- Shine on
- You gotta take his hand|- Shine on
- And shine all night|- Shine on
You've got to let it shine
You've got to let it
Let it
All night long
All night long
Come on
Come on
Come on
Yeah, let it shine
Let it shine|Ooh
- You got to feel it|- Shine on
- In your heart|- Shine on
- You gotta feel it|- Shine on
- In your soul|- Shine on
- You gotta take his hand|- Shine on
- You gotta take his hand|- Shine on
- Oh, you gotta shine on me|- Shine on
- I said shine on me|- Shine on
- I said shine on me|- Shine on
Let the light from the lighthouse
Let it shine on me, yeah
(gospel beat)
Shine on!
Shine on!
Shine on!
Shine on!
Shine on!
- Shine|- Shine on!
- On|- Shine on
- Me|- Shine on
- Shine|- Shine on
- Shine|- Shine on
- Shine|- Shine on
- Shine|- Shine on
- Shine|- Shine on
- Let the light|- Shine on
- From the lighthouse|- Shine on
- Shine on me|- Shine on
- Shine on me|- Shine on
- Shine on me|- Shine on
- In the morning|- Shine on
- Shine on me|- Shine on
- In the neW day|- Shine on
- Shine on me|- Shine on
- In the midnight|- Shine on
- Shine on me|- Shine on
I need your peace
Shine on
- I need your love|- Shine on
- I need your spirit|- Shine on
- Shine on me|- Shine on me
- Shine on me|- Shine on me
Let the light from the lighthouse|shine
(applause and cheering)
Oh, yes, Lord
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes
Thank you , thank you, thank you
Thank you, Lord!
Thank you, Lord
Thank you, Lord
Thank you, Lord
Thank you, Lord
- You see, you been mighty good|- Oh, yes, you have
I said you've been mighty good
Been mighty good, yeah
Yes, yes, yes, Lord
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