Cellmates Page #3

to support my cause!

- Right.

- Hundreds of folks are gonna rally at the doorsteps

of this institution

To demand that I be set free!

- Be a mighty spectacle.

- Pure jesus.

Pure jesus. Amen.

- You think you might make it saturday instead?

- What? Why?

Well, I'd rather not cause a hullabaloo on friday.

It's sweet potato day.

b====ryanon====/b

You should try the potatoes today, Leroy.

Pretty darn good for prison fare.

I don't see nothin' in here about my

stirrin' letter,

my call to action!

Don't even see my name mentioned in here.

Oh,

- Wait.

Here's somethin'.

- What?

"The New Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan, Ratt Sloan,

Had this to say about his predecessor, Leroy "The White Knight" Lowe--"

"I know he tried to join the Louisiana order

on at least two occasions

When he felt attendance

to his klan was slippin'..."

- Well, that's a goddamn jew lie!

- You went to bogalusa once.

- I ain't never been to Bogalusa!

I wouldn't be caught dead in Bogalusa!

- What else it says?

"Furthermore,

Grand Dragon Ratt Sloan "Has learned from unassailable sources

"That Leroy Lowe's mother is a...

Half-Breed jewess by the name of Finkelstein."

Oh, hell no! Oh!

Oh, when i get out of here,

I'm gonna find this son of a b*tch!

Bubba!

Bubba, bubba, bubba,

oh, come on now.

Come on, boy, get up!

Guard! Guard!

That piece of baked potato

That got stuck in bubba's throat

Cut off the oxygen flow to his brain

Longer than any piece of potato has the right to.

Bubba survived,

but he was never quite

the same after that.

He was transferred to low lee tuna

psychiatric ward,

Where he spent

the remainder of his sentence

in imbecilic hebetude.

I know bubba wasn't much to look at,

But he sure was good people.

It's a shame about Bubba,

a real shame.

He was a hard-Working member

of this establishment,

A man who packed potatoes

swiftly and efficiently.

He will be woefully missed.

But we must press on.

I reckon it ain't right for a man

To spend all his time alone

with nobody to talk to,

No matter what his crime is.

Besides, space is a scarce

and valuable commodity here at Low Lee,

And we need to fill

that empty bunk in your cell.

So i'm fixin' to pair you up

with a new cell mate.

Somethin' was in the air

That balmy summer day at Low Lee.

I could sense it as clear as a man feels/i

The hot desert wind on his face.

Somethin' big was headed my way.

Who the hell are you?

- My name is Emilio Ortiz.

- What?

- Emilio Ortiz.

- Guard! Guard, get back here!

You left a Mexican in my cell!

Guard!

Well, well, well...

Leroy Lowe don't like Jews,

He don't like negroes,

and he don't like mexicans neither.

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