“Thoughts on my Ass!”
Where are you getting all these children from?
“The mall. Bus stops. Wherever.”
Stop stealing children, Billy.
“Nah. The markup on ’em is astounding. I’ve completely stopped kidnapping dogs for the reward money. All about kids now.”
This is no good for anyone.
“Hey, I’m good to the little monkeys. Feed ’em, buy ’em some toys, give ’em beers.”
Beers?
“What? They’re not allowed to have alcohol. Just beers.”
Does he have a name?
“Probably.”
Do you know it?
“Huh. Pancho?”
No.
“Lefty?”
That’s a Dylan tune.
“Mata Hari?”
The boy’s name is not Mata Hari, Billy.
“What’s the difference? I yell out, ‘Hey, little fucker,’ and he pays attention. We’re simpatico.”
Give the child back.
“Give? No. Sell the child back. Do I have to explain this scam to you again?”
What if the parents don’t have enough money?
“Someone does. Someone’ll buy the kid. They’re a lot more valuable than you think. Gotta get white ones, though. People who buy children are racist as shit.”
Weird.
“But until he goes back, or to the highest bidder, I’m gonna teach him some stuff.”
We know. Skank.
“Other stuff, too.”
Like what?
“Wearing red ballcaps.”
Okay.
“Hating Phil.”
Sure.
…
“And skank. You were right: most of the lessons are skank-based.”
Stay away from kids, Billy.
“We’re all slaves to the free market, Ass.”
“People who buy children are racist as shit.”
Dude, you deserve a Pulitzer, wrapped in a Nobel, stuffed in an Emmy, dumped into the Stanley Cup for that statement.
this was brilliant too, Tor
brilliant
Townes Van Zandt, but you knew that, right?