Karl: Reckon what you like to eat in there? Frosty Cream Employee: Well, the French fries are pretty good. Karl: French fried potaters? Frosty Cream Employee: Yeah, French fries. Karl: How much you want for'em? Frosty Cream Employee: They're .60 for medium and .75 for large. Karl: 'Reckon I'll have me some of the big 'uns. Frosty Cream Employee: All right, then, one large French fries? [Karl is silent; Frosty Cream Employee walks to the back never taking his eyes off Karl]
Doyle: [to Vaughan and Karl] Hey! I said get out of my house! That goes for cocksuckers and retards! Now get up off your asses'n go! Go on! Linda: This is not your house, Doyle. This is my house and I decide who goes and who stays. You got a house, why don't you get some of your girlfriends and go home to it? Doyle: You know better than to talk to me like that when I'm hurtin', Linda. Don't make me knock the piss outta you. Vaughan Cunningham: Don't you touch her. Doyle: That's funny, Vaughan. Linda, go to bed and take little snot-nose here with you. Linda: You're not staying here tonight. Go get sober before you come back, I'm tired of my child seeing this. Now you get your ass straight or I'll lock your ass out of my life for good. Doyle: If you even think about leaving me, Linda, I told you: I'm gonna kill you deader than a door nail. Linda: That might be better than this. Vaughan Cunningham: All right, I'm a witness. I heard you threatening her. Doyle: Hey, you get the [shouts] Doyle: fuck out now!
Doyle: Believe in the Bible, do ya Karl? Karl: I don't understand all of it, but I reckon I understand a good deal of it. Doyle: Well I can't understand none of it. This one begat that one and that one begat this one, and lo and behold someone says some shit to someone else - just how retarded are you?
Frank: Ever think of killing yourself on purpose like my daddy done? Karl: I studied about it. The Bible says you ought not to. It says if you do that, you go off to Hades. Some folks call it Hell, I call it Hades.
Karl: Reckon you make me some biscuits.
Karl: I like them French fried potaters.
Vaughan: Have you knocked on the door yet? Karl: No, Sir, not yet. Vaughan: How long have you been standing here? Karl: Quite a spell, I reckon.
Frank: I'd like to kill that son-of-a-bitch. I hate him. Karl: You ought not talk that way. You just a boy.
Doyle: Hey is this the kind of retard that drools and rubs shit in his hair and all that, 'cause I'm gonna have a hard time eatin' 'round that kind of thing now. Just like I am with antique furniture and midgets. You know that, I can't so much as drink a damn glass of water around a midget or a piece of antique furniture. Linda: Doyle, you're awful. You shouldn't be that way. Doyle: I ain't saying it's right, I'm just telling the damn truth. He'll make me sick. I know it.
Linda Wheatley: I'm gonna make some coffee. Karl, you want some coffee? Karl: Coffee makes me nervous when I drink it. Mmm.
Frank Childers: I told you I ain't got no boy, now why don't you get on outta here and let me be. You ain't no kin to me. Karl: [After a pause] I learned to read some. I read the Bible quite a bit. I can't understand all of it, but I reckon I understand a good deal of it. Them stories you and Mama told me ain't in there. You ought not done that to your boy. I studied on killing you. Studied on it quite a bit. But I reckon there ain't no need for it if all you're gonna do is sit there in that chair. You'll be dead soon enough and the world 'll be shut of ya. You ought not killed my little brother, he should've had a chance to grow up. He woulda had fun some time. [Exits]
Linda Wheatley: Karl, you know what? Melinda here was voted employee of the month at the dollar store last February. Isn't that something? Karl: Yes ma'am, I reckon. Melinda: Well, when you like pricing items as much as I do, it's just bound to happen sooner or later, I guess.
Terence: We wrote one last night outside the mini mart. Morris called it "Stuart Drives A Comfortable Car" and then like in country songs, you know, in parentheses it says "There's Usually Someone in the Trunk." And, and um, I came up with a tune just a hummin'. Doyle: See, you don't want to question the genius, Vaughan. Morris here is a modern-day poet, kinda like in olden times. Morris: Yeah, I got a new tune in composition entitled "The Thrill." And it goes somethin' like this: "I stand on the hill, not for a thrill, but for the breath of a fresh kill. Never mind the man who contemplates doin' away with license plates. He stands alone, anyhow, bakin' the cookies of discontent by the heat of the laundromat vent. Leavin' his soul!" Then like in poetry I go dot-dot-dot, you know, kinda off center, then I drop down and then I go: "Leavin' his soul! And partin' the waters of the medulla oblongata of - -brrrrrr! - -mankind!" That was a damn good song, wasn't it Doyle?
Doyle: What am I supposed to do about supper while you're out runnin' around with that fag? Linda: You're not crippled, get in there and make it yourself. Doyle: Talkin' back and everything. That kinda makes me horny, Linda. Linda: Frank, maybe you better go play in your room if Doyle's gonna talk nasty. Frank: I don't wanna go play in my room. Doyle: He don't wanna go play in his room. Let's all just sit here and be a family. Until your mentally retarded friend and your homosexual friend get here.
Doyle: Linda, go get my guitar. It's out there with that looney toon.
Karl: I don't reckon you have to go with women to be a good daddy to a boy. You been real square-dealin' with me. The Bible says two men ought not lay together. But I don't reckon the Good Lord would send anybody like you to Hades. That Frank, he lives inside of his own heart. That's an awful big place to live in. You take good care of that boy. [walks off] Vaughan Cunningham: I will. Karl?
Karl: I reckon I'm gonna have to get used to looking at pretty people. Dr. Jerry Woolridge: Yes you will. Karl: 'Reckon I'm gonna have to get used to them looking at me.
Vaughan Cunningham: You always seem to be deep in thought. Tell me, what are you thinking right now? Karl: I was thinkin', I'm gonna take me some of these taters home with me. Vaughan Cunningham: How about before that? Karl: Well, let me think... I was thinkin' I could use me another couple cans'o that potted meat if ya got any extree.
Marsha Dwiggins: Will you ever kill anyone again, Karl? Karl: I don't reckon I got no reason to kill nobody. Mmm.
Doyle: What in the hell are you doing with that lawn mower blade? Karl: I aim to kill you with it. Mmm.
Charles Bushman: Now... On the third day, I washed her. She wasn't too clean. I got all the right spots. She's the only one I kept for a certain ammount of time, because I got a real short attention span. Now, I can't say she enjoyed her stay, but that washcloth I put in her mouth and held it there with a big piece of duct tape kept all her complaining to a min... I don't like people who talk all the time. I like to do all the talking, which is why I think I'm so fond of you, 'cause you're so easy-going. Although I do sense a little tension in you from time to time. So, you were out in the world, huh? What was it like? Karl: It was too big. Charles Bushman: Not too big in here, is it? [Chuckles]
Vaughan Cunningham: I'm just going to say it. I'm gay. Does that surprise you that I'm gay? You know what gay is, don't you? Karl: I don't reckon. Vaughan Cunningham: [quietly] Homosexual. I like men sexually. Karl: Not funny 'ha-ha', funny queer. Vaughan Cunningham: Well that's a very offensive way to put it. You shouldn't say that. You were taught that, weren't you? Karl: I've heard it said that a-way.
Doyle: Frank's a weak little kid. His daddy taught him how to be a pussy. Frank: Stop it, Doyle! Don't talk about my daddy. Doyle: "Don't talk about my daddy". Go on and get up outta here. Go out to the garage and let me be. Go on now, get!
Neighbor: I wish you'd all lay off for tonight! I can't hear myself think with that racket! Doyle: Hey! HEY! Neighbor: Knock it off or I'm calling the police! Doyle: I told you three times already, the law's on my side! I play cards with J.D. Shelnut, chief of PO-lice! So kiss my ass, you old bastard!
Charles Bushman: A Mercury is a good car. That's the car I was driving that day. I've had a lot of cars. Different kinds. Lot's of different kinds of cars. She was standing - this girl - on the side of the street where there was this chicken stand, wasn't the Colonel but it was a chicken stand nonetheless. I pulled the Mercury up right along side her and rolled down the window, see, by electric power. She had on a leather skirt and had a lot of hair on her arms. I like that a lot. That means a big bush. I like a big bush. She says, "Are you dating?" You know, so I said, "Sure". She gets in and we pull off to a remote location that was comfortable for both she and I. She says, "How much do you wanna spend?", I said, "Whatever it will take to see that bush of yours because I know it's a big one". She says, "Twenty five dollars". That's not chicken feed to a working man so I produce the $25, she puts it in her shoe, pulls up her skirt and there before me lay this thin, crooked, uncircumcised penis. [Scoffs] Charles Bushman: You can imagine how bad I wanted my $25 back, huh?
Doyle: [Karl enters the bedroom, startling Doyle and Linda] Hey! What the God damn hell you doing, Karl? 'The fuck you doing up in the middle of the night? Linda: What you want, Hon? Karl: I wanna be baptized. Doyle: Well get baptized then, I don't give a shit. Call up a fuckin' preacher, Goddammit, we can't baptize ya.
[Karl has entered the bedroom carrying a hammer] Doyle: What in the hell you doin' with that hammer? Karl: I don't rightly know. I just kinda work up a-holding it. [Exits] Doyle: [to Linda] What the fuck you think he's doin' with that hammer?
Charles Bushman: You gotta make something explode to really understand it. You gotta examine all those tiny particles while they're still on fire.
Doyle: Your buddy Karl here is going. We can't be no normal family with him living in the garage and comin' in the damn bedroom at 4:00 in the morning, carryin' hammers and shit.
Doyle: Now get the fuck out now before I get too mad to turn back! Terence: What about our instruments? Doyle: Come here, you little prick. Come here, you little fucking prick! [Wheels him right into the door] Doyle: Get out! All y'all, get the fuck out! Come on, you motherfuckers! [Nobody moves] Doyle: Get the fuck out! Randy, you tuning son of a bitch, go fucking practice, Randy! [Noody moves] Doyle: Come on, Morris, you fucking genius, get the fuck up and get the fuck out of here, Goddammit!
Karl: Just 'cause I ain't gonna be around no more, maybe, don't mean that I don't care for you. Frank: I care 'bout you too, but you'll be around. Don't say that. Karl: Doesn't matter where I was to be. We'll always be friends. You and me made friends right off the bat. Don't nobody ever change that. I kindly want to put my arm around you, then I'm gonna get up out of here and leave. [Puts his arm around Frank] Karl: I love you, boy.
Doyle: I don't like homosexuals and she goes out and buddies up with one so I gotta deal with that. I don't like little wimpy-ass kids or mental retards and she got one of each livin' with her. [Laughs] Doyle: I'm just kidding about that really.
Doyle: To call the police, you push 911 then just tell 'em to bring an ambulance, or a "hearst" if you're gonna kill me.
Karl: There were these two fellars standin' on a bridge, a-goin' to the bathroom. One fellar said, "The water's cold" and the other fellar said, "The water's deep". I believe one fella come from Arkansas. Get it?
Bill Cox: Hey, Scooter, did I tell you the one about the two ol' boys pissing off a bridge? Scooter: I don't believe you did. Bill Cox: Well, there were these two ol' boys and they hung their peckers off a bridge to piss. One ol' boy from California, the other from Arkansas. The ol' boy from California says, "Boy, this water's cold", and the ol' boy from Arkansas says, "Yeah, and it's deep too". Get it? Scooter: [laughs] That's a good one. I do believe you told me that one before. I've heard that one a bunch. Bill Cox: Yep. That's classic.
Vaughan Cunningham: I don't understand. Morris: Exactly the point, my young level-headed friend. Vaughan Cunningham: I don't get it. Morris: Well, I rest my case.
Karl: There was a boy. We made friends. Charles Bushman: Ha ha, I'll bet you did. 'Course I was never bent that way, I was always bent the other way.
Charles Bushman: A shovel just makes too goddamned much racket.
Linda: Frank's always after a father figure and Lord knows Doyle ain't one with his mean ass. Vaughan Cunningham: What about me? Linda: Frank doesn't really see you as a guy-guy. Vaughan Cunningham: Oh, and Karl's a guy-guy?
Charles Bushman: There was a young man by the name of John Leggit Hunter who ran a filling station business, a good filling station business and he's one of these young men we all come across in life, I'm sure you've come across 'em, who did not deserve what he had and what he had was a beautiful young bride named Sarah. She was a Georgia peach. In fact, she was the picture I had in my mind of the perfect woman so I took it upon myself to take her away from John Leggit Hunter who did not deserve her. Oh, I don't know if I mentioned this but he was a Frenchman who claimed to be an Englishman. It took a lot of strong nylon cord to get her away from him because she was a fighter as well as being a Georgia peach.
Doyle: I don't mean to be so... Assholish I guess is a good word for it.
Frank: Mama's got a boyfriend now. His name is Doyle Hargraves. He works construction so he makes a pretty good living, but he don't help Mama out with any money though. He ain't no good. He's mean to her. He don't like me at all. Mama says it's 'cause he's jealous that I belong to my Daddy instead of him. He spends the night at our house sometimes and he's got his own house, somebody told me it's where he can have more girlfriends. I like it on the nights he ain't at our house. I ain't so nervous then. Karl: How come her still being girlfriends and all with him if he's mean to her? Frank: She says it's for the times he's good to her. She's lonely since Daddy died, sometimes she says she don't know why. He threatened to kill her if she ever left him. My daddy would kill him if he were still here and somebody was mean to Mama. Vaughan, he's real good to Mama. Vaughan that you met. But he's not able to do anything to Doyle. He's funny, you know. Not funny "Ha-Ha", funny queer. He likes to go with men instead of women. That makes him not able to fight too good. He sure is nice, though. He's from St. Louis, people who are queer get along better in a big town. I wish he liked to go with women, I'd rather he be Mama's boyfriend than Doyle.
Mrs. Woolridge: Karl, I hear Jerry's taking you somewhere else tomorrow. Karl: I don't reckon I know nobody named Jerry. Dr. Jerry Woolridge: She's talking about me, Karl, that's my first name. Karl: He's carrying me to look for work over in Millsburg where I's borned.
Doyle: Hey! I said get out of my house! That goes for cocksuckers and retards!
Linda: This is not your house, Doyle. This is my house and I decide who goes and who stays. You got a house, why don't you get some of your girlfriends and go home to it? Doyle: You know better than to talk to me like that when I'm hurtin', Linda. Don't make me knock the piss outta you. Vaughan: Don't you touch her. Doyle: That's funny, Vaughan. Linda, go to bed and take little snot-nose here with you. Linda: You're not staying here tonight. Go get sober before you come back, I'm tired of my child seeing this. Now you get your ass straight or I'll lock your ass out of my life for good. Doyle: If you even think about leaving me, Linda, I told you: I'm gonna kill you deader than a door nail. Linda: That might be better than this.
Doyle: Was you in the nut house for hackin' somebody up with a hatchet? Karl: I never used no hatchet that I remember. Mmm. Doyle: So you're just crazy in a retard kind of way, huh? Wouldn't matter to me if you did do violence on someone. I ain't scared of shit. You're just a humped-over retard, seems to me. I'm just kiddin'. Welcome to our humble home, Buddy.
Morris: Dots look good on paper. You don't sing them anyway, you're just showing your true Aries color now. Doyle: Stay out of my goddam face, you fucking buzzard!
Karl: [Eating potted meat] I reckon it tastes alright. Frank: You really think it's got peckers in there? Karl: You know better than that. You ought not say that word. Frank: It smells funny. Karl: Yeah, it's pretty loud. Looky there. I believe you right. I believe I see one right in there. [They laugh]
Bill Cox: [About Karl] The son-of-a-bitch's a regular Eli Whitney on a lawn mower and *loves* French fries. 'Son-of-a-bitch can eat four larges and not even belch.
Doyle: You know what, by God? Linda: What? Doyle: I know what I oughta do tonight. Linda: Please don't. Doyle: Mmm-hmm. I'm gonna call up Morris and have him get the band together. We're gonna have a party. Party our asses off. I'd love to show them that damn Karl. They'd get a real kick out of him. You know they would. Linda: Please, Doyle, not tonight. They always stay until morning, I'll just give out. Doyle: You ain't gotta do nothing, Linda. Just put some chips in a bowl and run ice out to us when we look low. Frank: Last time you got angry and ran Morris and them off and told them to stay away from here. Doyle: That ain't none of your damn business, besides, that's the way friends do one another! Fuck it, I'm calling them up.
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