Riffraff Page #2

What'll I do, what'll I do?

What do you think for that,

my friends?

High tone stuff, eh?

A fix Nick bought for the sweet mamas.

You got something special there, boss.

That's keen.

Keen? She's a A number 1 genuine

red spotted platinum fox.

Cost a lot of bucks, but she's worth it.

Hey, look, Flystrap.

Whatcha think, huh?

Some class.

Will I get a gun, will I get a gun?

You want me to smoke 'em, smoke 'em?

Hey, boss.

Look at the long soft hairs.

I tell you, she keep the babies

plenty warm, huh?.

Hey, boss, the men are gonna attack.

Whaddaya say, whaddaya say?

What's the matter with you, Flystrap?

You crazy?

Sit down, you get on my nervous system.

Boss, boss, we gotta do something,

do something...

The men are gonna strike, strike...

The men are strikin'.

No, grazie.

Look for Flystraps.

No brains.

They want for to strike. That is good.

You want 'em to strike, boss?

What's the matter, boss?

Are you screwy, boss, are you screwy?

Are you all right, boss?

I'm got a little sunburn,

but I feel pretty good.

Are you dumb?

Whaddaya mean, am I dumb?

Aw...

Aw...

Look, Flystraps, look.

The men sign a five-year agreement with me

to work on certain percentage

without pulling walkout, didn't they?

Well, well, what about it, well?

Now they want for to strike,

it breaks the contract.

It's plenty tough for Nick, poor fellow.

So what is he gonna do?

Nick is going for to bring in cheap labor

and catch the fishes at half this price.

Buy plenty more platinum fox for

his sweet babies.

Poor, Nick.

Oh, I get it, I get it.

Hey, you're smart, boss, you're smart.

You're okay, gee, you're smart.

Hiya, Brains, just having a little snack

before we shove off.

How about a little more Java, toots?

No telling where its going, Dutch.

Things are pretty tough out there.

The men won't listen to me.

They don't care whether I'm head

of the union or not.

Don't let that mob get you.

They never do nothing but yap.

Come on, have some coffee.

I'm worried.

We ain't got dough enough nor

pressure to strike.

In a few weeks we'll all be starving in the streets.

Huh?

Yeah.

Nick wants the men to walk out.

He wants us to break the five-year agreement

we signed so he can bring in cheap labor.

He what?

The men don't understand.

But you can see that, Dutch.

You know Nick Louis.

Why, the dirty double-crosser.

He can't get away with that.

He will if the men walk out.

I think you oughta talk to 'em, Dutch.

They'll listen to you.

Sure, Dutch, you tell 'em.

You can make 'em eat dirt and like it.

If they strike, my name ain't Dutch Muller.

What do you want me to say to 'em?

See you later.

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