Black Legion

How you doing, Ed?

Ooh. Terrible.

I feel like that drill was driving

right through the top of my head.

It might be a good idea at that.

Let out that beer

you slopped up last night.

- Quit riding me, will you?

- I ain't even started on you yet.

- Come on. Let's eat.

- No, Frank, I couldn't.

Come on, do you good.

You gotta eat.

- I got just the thing to straighten you out.

- What is it?

Some nice ice-cold oatmeal

smothered with lard.

Go get some more.

Yeah?

Let's get some more. Come on.

Tomato juice, eh? Hmm.

Well, next best thing in the world

for a hangover.

Yeah? Well, what's the best?

Heh. Laying off of the booze entirely.

What time did he roll in last night?

Oh, I wouldn't know that.

- I never check up on me boarders.

- Your daughter's checking on him.

Well, I wouldn't be surprised

if she was trying to.

She'd better before that Pearl Danvers

makes a tramp out of him.

Lay off, will you?

I'm through with that dame.

I was out with her to tell her goodbye.

- Yeah? What did she say when you told her?

- She said, "Goodbye. Call me up soon. "

Shame on you guys,

wasting your time in idle chatter.

Look at Joe over there.

Hey, Dombrowski.

What do you got there,

a honyock back scratcher?

A slide rule

to figure out these stress formulas.

What's that got to do

with running a lathe?

Nothing. It's to do with designing one.

Aw. Running a lathe

ain't good enough for you, huh?

Now you gotta learn how to design one.

It ain't your time he's wasting, is it?

His going to school don't hurt you.

No, he's always got his nose in a book.

Well, it's his nose, ain't it?

And a plenty big one at that.

- Hey, Cliff, why don't you stop?

Hello, fellas.

How are you?

Hello, Tommy.

I got news for you.

- This came from the division super. Ahem.

Yeah?

"To Mr. Thomas W. Smith.

Subject:
Promotion.

Effective July 12th, you'll report

to Division Superintendent James...

...to assume your new duties

as assistant general shop foreman. "

- Well, congratulations, boy.

- Thanks. Well...

You seem glad to get rid

of your old foreman.

No, we ain't.

Glad to see you get it.

Hey, Tommy, who's gonna

crack the whip in your place?

As far as I know, the job's still open.

They'll fill it the way they always have.

Move the best man up.

Well...

...who would you say the best man is,

Tommy?

Heh-heh. Kid, if they ask me,

I'll have to tell them you're all pretty good.

Ha-ha. You know darn well

I'm better than pretty good.

Sure. You're the guy that wrote those books

Dombrowski's always studying.

There's one for you, wise guy.

Hey, there she blows. Let's go back.

Till Monday, I'm still the best man.

Yes, sir, Mr. Smith.

Hey, you big ape, you. Get in there.

Tommy was kidding.

You've been here longer than the rest.

You can run this shop

as well as you run that drill press.

- I'll fight the guy that says you can't.

- I hope they think that way up front.

Forget it. You're a cinch.

- You sure you're rooting for the right guy?

- Sure.

Think it over.

I'm warning you...

...there ain't gonna be no hangovers

in no shop I'm boss of, get it?

- Okay, Mr. Taylor.

- Oh.

Starting to red apple

the boss already, huh?

Well, come on, we'll give them a week's

work between now and quitting time.

Sure that will do you?

Oh, yes, thanks.

I'll return it first thing in the morning.

Even if you don't, it's all right.

I still owe you four eggs...

...and that half bottle of bluing

I got from you.

- Oh, gee, Betty, that looks swell.

- I hope it tastes all right.

The men are getting hard to please.

Not your pa.

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