Man (Skanko)
And youse ugly enough to git behind a tombstone and hatch hants.

Cliff
Youse so ugly dey have to cover yo’ face up at night so sleep can slip
up on yo’.

Man (Skanko)
You look like ten cents worth of Have-Mercy.  Yo’ face look lak ole Uncle
Jump-off.  Yo’ mouth look lak a bunch of ruffles.

Cliff
Yeah, but yo’ done passed me.  Yo’ so ugly till they could throw yo’ in
de Mississippi River and skim ugly for six months.

Man (Skanko)
Look here, Cliff, don’t yo’ personate me!  Counting from de little finger
back to de thumb—­yo’ start anythin’, I go yo’ some.

Cliff Go head and grab me buddie, but if yo’ don’t know how to turn me loose too, don’t bring de mess up!  If yo’ hit me, I may not beat you, but yo’ll be so dirty when St. Peter git yo’ dat he can’t use yo’.

Man (Skanko)
Don’t call me buddy.  Yo’ buddy is huntin’ coconuts.  Don’t yo’ try to
throw me for a nap.  Do.  I’ll kill yo’ so stiff dead they’ll have to push
yo’ down.  Yo’ gointer to make me do some double cussin’ on you. 
                             (He picks up a heavy stick and walks
                             back towards Cliff)
Now I got dis farmer’s choice in my hands, yo’ better git outa my face.

Cliff
Yo’ wanta fight?

Man
Yeah I wanta fight.  Put it where I kin use it and I’ll sho’ use it.  I’ll
fight anybody.  I get so hot sometimes I fights de corner of de house. 
I’m so hot I totes a pistol to keep from gettin’ in a fight wid myself. 
I prints dangerous every time I sit down in, in a chair.

Cliff Man, this ain’t no fighting weather.  Ha, ha, ha!  Did yo’ think I was mad sho’ nuff?  Yo’ can’t fight me.  They’s got to be runnin’ before fightin’ and they’s got to be plenty good runnin’ before dis fight comes off.

Man
All right now.  Yo’ leave me alone and I’m a good man.  I’m just like an
old shoe.  If yo’ rain on me and cool me off I’m soft!  If yo’ shine on me
and git me hot, I’m hard. 
                             (He drops the stick and exits)

(Cliff is shaking all over.  He looks
after the Man to be sure he is gone)

Good Black
Kah, kah, kah.  Whut yo’ so scarred about?  De way yo’ was talkin’ I
though yo’ was mad enough to fight.

Cliff
I was.  I gits hot real quick!  But I’m very easy cooled when de man I’m
mad wid is bigger’n me. 
                             (He drops into his seat, wiping his
                             face)
Man did yo’ see how he grabbed up dat check?  He done skeered me into a
three-week’s spasm!

Good Black’s Wife
Good Black, dese clothes is still waiting.

Good Black
Well, let ’em wait on, I done tole yo’ once.  Yo’ kind run yo’ mouf but
yo’ can’t run my business.

(Enter a PRETTY GIRL.  She strolls
happily across without stopping.  Good
Black pretends to cough)