So was I.
The three of us are doing fine now.
Why don't you just leave him alone?
Clyde, leave the bananas alone. Come on.
Kind of grows on you, doesn't he?
We are the Black Widows!
Who stomped a mudhole in you?
Philo Beddoe!
Then spat on you,
and let his ape stomp it dry?
Philo Beddoe!
So, whose hide are you going to nail
to the gates of hell?
Philo Beddoe's!
All right, then, let's start doing
some stomping of our own.
Yeah.
Good grief, my brownies are burning.
- His what?
- He's baking brownies.
Why me, Lord?
I mean, you made other men out of clay.
Mine, you made out of shit.
- I should have expected it.
- Expected what, Ma?
Quitting your job, letting an old lady
die of frostbite, canker sores.
- It ain't froze around here in 30 years, Ma.
- Don't have to freeze.
I got thin blood.
Besides, I didn't quit my job.
Fighting ain't my job.
I have to admit, it ain't much.
But it's the closest you've come
to earning a decent living.
But, hell, you don't care about keeping
a roof over a poor, helpless old lady's head.
You don't care if she has to eat dog food.
You don't care
if she has to soak her teeth in Clorox.
Come back here with my Oreos,
you hairy ass!
- I'm looking for Mr. Philo Beddoe.
- You're talking to him.
- I'm talking to his feet.
- Well, the top half of him can hear you.
I represent a man
who would like to back you, Mr. Beddoe.
See that crescent wrench up on top there?
- Yes, I see it.
- Why don't you hand it to me?
Tail first, of course,
because the jaws might be venomous.
Thanks.
- Back me at what?
- A fight?
- Sorry, I'm retired.
- Since when?
Since I decided to retire.
My employer is willing to pay you
$15,000 for this fight, Mr. Beddoe.
- Against who?
- A man named Jack Wilson.
- You know Wilson?
- I know of him.
Let's not quibble, Mr. Beddoe. $25,000.
- Is that win or lose, or just win?
- The money will be payable, win or lose.
$10,000 in advance.
- Give it to Clyde.
- Yes.
- Who's Clyde?
- He's my manager.
Jesus Christ!
- Don't worry, he won't hurt you.
- You want me to give $10,000 to an ape?
He handles all my business.
You stash that and don't let Ma see you.
Good boy.
I'll be in touch.
Yeah, I'm sure.
- You there, Harry?
- Yeah, what do you got?
Dead battery at Sunset and Lincoln.
- Green '73 Chevrolet.
- Got it. Be about twenty minutes.
Twenty minutes is too late by half, Harry.
Hang on, green Chevy. Harry's on the way.
Have you seen Clyde?
No. Is he gone?
A couple of hours.
- Is he in the shed?
- I'll take another look.
No hairy-ass jungle jumper...
...is going to outsmart Zenobia Boggs.
That goddamn banana-head probably ate it.
Send him down to that...
Work and slave for that ape of yours.
Work and slave.
I appreciate that, Ma.
You haven't seen him, have you?
No, I ain't seen him.
I'll find it. You better believe I'll find it.
- Have you seen Clyde?
- Yeah. Right behind you, Philo.
Lynn Halsey-Taylor, ladies and gentlemen.
Now, let's everybody get ready
for Fats Domino.
He ain't supposed to be out like this.
What did I do?
I was just singing a number
and he came in and sat down.
He probably got lost
and recognized this place.
Maybe he wanted to see me.
Not everybody hates me, you know.
I don't hate you.
I can take just about any kind of pain.
There's just one I have no tolerance for.
Some kinds I can't tolerate either.
You got to do another set?
No, I'm just doing one set a night.
They're all here to see Fats.
- You sound good.
- Thank you.
Real good.
Do you have any wheels?
No.
I'll give you a ride home. If you like.
I like.
This is it?
- Anything wrong with it?
- No. Not a thing.
- Well, I guess I can't ask you in.
- I guess not.
Good night, Clyde.
Thanks, Philo.
Shut up, meathead.
It's Philo Beddoe!
- Are we bad mothers?
- We are bad mothers!
Hey, Beddoe, it's us.
Are you talking