The Road to Wellville Page #5

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here in the lap of luxury.

Now you listen to me,

you jumped-up streak of pompous piss.

You don't think you could start

a company like Per-Fo just like that!

- You've stolen my aunt's money.

- It's not stealing!

It's capitalism, you ignorant prick!

And palms are the wheels of capitalism,

and they have to be greased, boy.

I'm not your boy, Bender.

Get that straight!

Charles, Charles.

It all takes money.

You had money! You had my aunt's money,

and now you've pissed it all away!

Ah, but you're forgetting one thing.

We have a great product.

- We don't have anything!

- You're wrong, Charles. You're wrong.

We have cartons. Beautiful

Per-Fo cornflake cartons.

And why is it a great product?

Because " it perks up tired blood

and exonerates the bowels."

- Didn't you write that?

- I did write that.

- It's brilliant.

- It's good.

It's an inspiration, is what it is.

It's good. I know it's good.

But you can't sell empty boxes

no matter what it does to the bowels.

It has to mean something.

We have to make something.

Something that tastes great

and is easy to prepare.

- Something good for you.

- Right! Health!

The "open sesame"

to the sucker's purse.

- Who are you?

- George.

I'm called George.

What's your name?

Eleanor Lightbody.

Do you work here?

I'm Dr. Kellogg's son.

- Not his real son. I'm adopted.

- Oh, of course.

He adopted lots of us.

Yes, I know.

I've got 39 brothers and sisters.

Lucky, aren't I?

Yes, that's very nice.

But why are you here?

I came for my allowance.

And I like to look at the nude ladies.

You have a very nice body,

Mrs. Nicebody.

Lightbody. Mrs. Lightbody.

My mother had a nice body.

She did?

She was a whore.

She was?

In Chicago.

She was dead

when the doctor took me in.

They found me sitting

by her dead body.

George Kellogg!

Come here.

Your coat, George.

Where's your coat?

Look at me.

Why don't you ever speak, George?

It is of great distress to me, to Mrs.

Kellogg, to your brothers and sisters.

Your coat, George. Your coat

is on the floor, not on the hook.

How many times must you be told

to hang your coat up on the hook?

Speak to me.

Hannah!

Yes, sir, Doctor.

You will supervise. George will enter

this house, close the door...

climb the stairs, remove his jacket

and hang it on its hook.

He will do so until bedtime...

and then continue after breakfast

until this time tomorrow.

Until 4:
00 tomorrow.

Is that understood?

Yes, sir, Doctor. Understood.

Sir!

I said until 4:
00 p.m.

It is now 7:
00.

He won't stop, sir. We've tried to,

all of us, but he won't take any notice.

George, that's enough now.

You've learned your lesson.

Run off to your supper.

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