A Rage in Harlem Page #2

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Blaspheming philistines!

Two big, luscious titties,

like two cassava melons.

Blaspheming

philistine heathens!

Man, I'm not from Philly!

Who you talking to?

- I told you that!

- Hey, come on, man!

Blaspheming philistine

sinning heathens.

Sorry, Mr. Clay.

I'm separated!

Up in a man's business!

Would you look at me?

$5.00 an hour,

20 for the night.

What is this, the Ritz?

This is New York City, honey.

People don't come here

to sleep.

Hour's usually all they need.

All I got

is $4.00 to my name.

Oh, yeah?

What's that sh*t on your finger?

This is my grandmama's ring.

It's going with me to my grave.

All right,

you can keep your $4.00.

I got a room opening up.

Go on up

and take a shower.

You know your best bet?

You should go on over...

to the Undertaker's Ball

at the Royale.

Royale? That's where

I was going anyway.

Well, good.

If anybody can raise the dead...

and make 'em pay their rent,

it's you.

Things don't work out,

you come on back home.

Ooh, yeah! Yeah!

Turn me, baby! Ooh!

- What'd she say?

- Yeah!

I tell you

what she said, right?

She says, "Smitty,

Smitty, come on over. "

So I go over there, right?

Soon as I get to the house,

she got 12 kids, man!

- What?!

- Twelve ugly kids!

Every last one of 'em

looked like Dracula.

All right now!

Now, I take the 12 kids

that look like Dracula...

and put 'em in a room, right?

Let 'em watch some

of that "Andy 'n' Amos. "

No, no. "Amos 'n' Andy. "

Yeah, whatever it is.

Amos and... and... right.

So, I tip over

to her bedroom, right?

Man, I'm riding that coochie

like the Lone Ranger.

I got that Trigger thing

happening down there.

Smitty, I don't got time...

for all your blaspheming

and your evil ways.

I'm looking for Easy Money.

- Smitty...

- Ohh!

I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Get your goddamn hands

off me, chump.

Trying to clean you off.

Excuse me, but...

- Do we know you?

- Not in this lifetime.

- Oh!

- Whoo!

Hot damn!

I know that hurt you.

It hurt you.

No, can't hurt nobody

who look like Nat Cole.

Sh*t.

You better get rid

of them shaving bumps.

Man, shut up,

you old bug-eyed...

Yeah. Heh.

That's gold, all right.

Mmm. Mmm. That's good.

But you're gonna have

to show me the rest of it...

before I show you the money.

Now, honey, a whole lot

of people was killed...

playing around

with this stuff.

My partners,

white folks, police.

I ain't just

flashing it around...

and ending up

the way they did.

You know, I do believe...

you and I were cut out

to do business together.

But first...

Yeah, baby?

- Straighten up!

- Count off!

Act calm.

Take it easy, baby.

Their bark is bigger

than their bite.

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