A Boy and His Dog Page #2

about how you lost the

ability to hunt for food

when you learned how to talk!

Oh hell all you're good

for is finding hard, stingy

scum bags, that are just

liable to cut off my Goddamn....

Dog:
No food, no females.

Okay you just sit there on your

flabby butt while I do

all the god damn work.

I'll tell you one

goddamn thing, you better

do some tracking; it's

been six weeks since I

been laid and it sure

as hell ain't been

that long since you ate.

(dog hums in background]

By god it damn well may be if you

don't start producing.

Leroy's here.

Heave, heave, pull, pull on that line!

Pull on it! Pull....

Get out of there, hey you junkies,

get that dirt out of there.

Must be something special.

You got the whole bunch.

You get up and get

in that hole. Get up!

You get yourself up or you

ain't never gonna get up!

How'd he know there'd be a house

here...he' smart, that's how.

Wonder why they hang around him?

Dog:
Hmmm, probably just charisma.

Hey there...

You dig.

Move your foot if you don't

want...hey, watch where you're going!

Where'd you...it? Maybe

he ain't heard about it?

Hey!

Play!

Play melancholy baby!

Winds were soft, rains were wet,

mountains were high, things....

Dog:
God, I wish he'd tune that.

Well?

I don't know.

Chet got Cracker Jack to here.

Think he just might do.

Maybe.

Get out of here.. Look

at that. Real beer.

Keep your hands off of

that. Now get away from here.

Dog:
Sigh. Vic:

Look at all that food.

I'll knock your stupid

head in. You and who else?

You all right. I need

shoes. Anybody see some shoes?

Hey you pigs get down there and dig.

This place ought to be

loaded. Get it out of there.

Might work.

Dog:
We'll wait like we always do.

Hell with waiting.

Dog:
Vic, come back here!

Get away from here, help help,

he's taking our bag, help help.

Get back down in here, you

idiots, get back in here.

Leave him go.

Oh shut up. At least

he's got some guts.

Get out of here and guard that wagon.

He got our bag. Run boy!

Come back any time, though.

Dig you...

That's our boy. Put out the cheese.

What do you want to do tonight?

Dog:
Oh, doesn't really matter to me.

Whatever you would like

to do, Albert...uh, Vic.

Well, hell, now that we're loaded,

I guess we could hit the turf.

Dog:
Yes, we could do that.

Well if you rather not...

Dog:
Oh no, no, no,

that would be fine.

We could probably even

afford a little pop..popcorn.

Mats good for the rifle,

put in the water there.

Theyre getting wet there; move

them over, goes to rust fast.

Move on along.

You money grabbing toad,

you move my stuff over!

Move his heat; we don't

want no trouble tonight.

If it picks up one rust spot,

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