White Lightning Page #3

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China and get old Mao Tse-tung. Bye-bye.

- You're thirsty.

- You got the best shine in town, Maggie.

Fill it up.

Did you hear about James?

He got so bombed on this stuff,

he put it in the chicken mash

and those eggs slammed.

- They came out fried.

- Give me your money.

- Here's five hot ones.

- Better not be hot.

- Not any hotter than what's holdin' them.

- You behave yourself.

- See you next week.

- Bye, sugar.

Jeremiah!

Are you playing with that gun?

- Open the door, dammit!

- That was a dumb thing to do.

- What's going on out here?

- Go on back in the house.

Sharon Anne,

what are you doing out here?

Give me back my gun.

That's my gun. Give it back to me.

Don't ever take a man's gun.

What's the matter with you?

Look what you did to the stock!

And look at that.

Who the hell's gonna fix my ceiling? You?

- Will you just calm down?

- Don't tell me to calm down!

- No damn federal stool-pigeon is gonna...

- Don't call me that.

What are you if you ain't a stool-pigeon?

Take a bite of this.

It'll make you feel better.

Get the hell away from me, man.

You know them two college boys

that drowned in the lake?

You didn't have to hit me in the gut, man.

- One of them boys was my brother.

- I'm sick.

- I said one of them kids was my brother.

- I said you didn't have to hit me in the gut!

No sheriff is gonna kill

any brother of mine.

- Well, go hit him in the gut, not me!

- You didn't even know him.

Know him? I've known him since

I was a kid. He's been the sheriff here.

Not the sheriff!

I'm talking about my brother!

Hey, Maggie.

Henry, why don't you just bring it out

in broad daylight?

I told you I want one gallon in there

and the rest outsideways.

Them feds ain't comin' to get you, honey.

Unless they wanna reckon with me.

Who the hell's that?

Who does he haul for?

- You better start answering my questions.

- I don't have to tell you a damn thing.

- I'm on probation.

- You broke probation.

You know it and I know it and so do they.

If you don't answer my questions,

they'll send you back to prison.

You're not gonna see your kids or your

wife no more. Now, answer my questions.

Lookee, man.

I ain't got no damn love for J C Connors.

But I can't help you. Even if I could,

it wouldn't do you any good.

If I got you in to run liquor, make liquor,

what good's it gonna do you?

For gettin' court proof, legal stuff like that,

you ain't gonna make it.

I pay J C Connors, sure. Everybody does.

But it's cash money, man.

It's in a paper sack. Ain't no cheques.

And them tax boys put me on a stand

in front of a damn jury, I'm gonna lie.

I'm gonna have to.

Five years in a federal pen is no picnic,

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