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See, 'cause that man, he got needs, Mr. Gudge,
and normally those needs gotta do with women with big asses.
I guess my point bein' is I realize I'm a bunkie junkie.
But if you woulda seen the kettle drums on this girl, Mr. Gudge, whew!
Well... we all human.
This apology buys you a one-week probationary period.
Thank you, Mr. Gudge.
Stay away from the customers, MacSam.
This drill bit's getting awfully hot.
Gawain, maybe you could fill a Hudson sprayer and spritz it down while I drill.
Fuck you. I ain't your motherin' house nigger. I'm the inside man.
All right, look, are you gonna have a bug up your ass
for the rest of the time we work together?
- I'll get the sprayer. - Oh, no, no. No.
Me and this gentleman here have to get square.
Let me tell you somethin', MacSam.
I'm gonna tell you about how I came down to Mississippi.
I wasn't born here, you know. I'm from Scranton, Pennsylvania.
What the ?
Scranton. Pennsylvania. Came down here in 1964. Greyhound bus.
With the Freedom Riders.
Do you know who the Freedom Riders were, MacSam?
No, and I don't give a .
Just tell me when the they gonna leave. Damn!
The Freedom Riders, my fine young man,
were a group of concerned liberals from up north,
all working together, just like we are here.
Involved citizens who came down here
so that local black folk could have their civil liberties.
So that people like you could have the vote.
- You know what, man? - What, brother?
- I don't vote. So you. - You little in' ingrate.
- And the bus you rode in on, jackass! - Let's step outside, MacSam!
Fuck the outside! Come on! What?!
My friend Mrs. Funthes is here, so I'm about to go out.
Just thought I'd leave y'all with some cinnamon cookies.
Why, that is lovely.
Ooh, y'all sound good!
- Give us a recital. - Why, how kind of you!
Our music, however, is, uh... well, how shall I put this?
Uh, a bit Roman in its outlook.
Uh, many of our pieces were commissioned by the Holy See.
Oh, I see, all right,
but we don't make no big whoop-dee-do about denomination.
Everybody welcome at our church. Yeah, we had a Methodist come in.
Episcopalian. Back in the '60s, we had a Jew come in!
If you will excuse me one moment, madam, I shall, uh, I shall see you out.
If you gentlemen can labor harmoniously in the course of my absence,
perhaps upon my return we shall be prepared to explode
that vexin' old piece of igneous.
Oh, Professor! This is Mrs. Funthes.
Enchant? Mrs. Funthes. Allow me.
Rosalie, this is Professor G.H. Dorr, Ph.D.
Oh, my. That's an awful lot of letters.
Oh, well, no.
Of course, in my youth, I was known simply as Goldthwait.
Uh-huh.
All right, safety meeting.
Let's listen up. General, can you hand me the primer cord?
Before we set the charge, we will run through our procedure.
I have earplugs for whoever wants them. Just wedge those right in your ears.
Now, here we have... Not yet, Lump.
- Oh. - Now, primer cord.
Gelatinite. C-4.
Time comes, we pack the hole in the rock with the C-4
and insert two leads:
A and B.
I remember my father sayin' to me -
and it's one of the few memories I retain of the man
from one of his visits home, and how I do cherish it -
he said to me, "Goldthwait, you are not formed as other boys."
He a man of learnin'?
This is the same procedure we will be using when we collapse the tunnel
after entering the casino vault and returning to the root cellar.
He was a self-educated man. Didn't have a career as such,
but the government did recognize the breadth of his readin'
by makin' him librarian of the state nervous hospital in Meridian,
where he was a distinguished inmate.
Once these materials are combined only the professionals may handle them.
That means me or the General.
Separately they are harmless, completely inert.
Why, you could light this stuff on fire, hit it with a ham...
What in the name of heavens was that?
Well, um... I'm quite certain there's absolutely no reason to be alarmed.
Why, I'm not even absolutely certain I heard anything at all.
Didn't hear nothin'?!
Well, something perhaps.
Nothing that need discompose us was the sense I was tryin' to convey.
Now, Mrs. Munson, I will not have you missin' your musical recital. Off you go!
I shall call the gas company, or the water company.
Whatever subterranean utility is implicated in this contretemps.
I shall see to the matter, as only a highly educated classicist could.
Blood! Blood, Professor, blood! Blood, blood, blood!
Jackass! You better get yo' ass back down there and find that shit, dipshit!
- Really, I'm perfectly all right. - Perfectly all right?
Jackass, you just blew your goddamn finger off!
The muthaa down there flappin' the around!
You better get yo' ass back down there and find it!
I'm tellin' you right now, nubbie, I ain't pickin' up your goddamn finger!
I gather there was a premature detonation.
Would you tell this muthaa he can sew this shit back on?!
It's like that dude whose wife cut his dick off, threw it on the freeway?
She just called Triple A,
they towed the dick and sewed the muthaa back on!
Listen up! Jackass, I saw the muthaa in a porno!
The thang still worked! It looked like a chewed-up frank,
but that little muthaa be workin' that muthaa!
It's mangly, but he be in' the bitch all kind of ways with a twisted dick!
Oh! Your in' finger just moved! The muthaa movin' slow now!
I'm not gettin' that shit. Fuck that! You're on your own there!
They usin' the house to practice music... of the Rococo.
Mmm-hm.
I propose we get our fallen comrade to the hospital.
The General will follow when he manages to recover the severed digit.
No, no, really, I'm perfectly all right. I don't know what all the fuss is about.
- Good news! Good news! - Pickles! Go get him!
The house is in apple-pie order,
though we do have to get medical attention for Mr. Pancake,
who, durin' the disturbance, pinched his finger in the valve of his sackbut.
You let the cat out!
Wha...? The General is even now exercisin' every effort in retrievin'
your mischievous little Pickles. Please, go on.
Go on and enjoy the concert! Driver! Au revoir. mesdames.
To penetrate the vault here this afternoon, while Mrs. Munson is at church,
havin' blasted that little old rock to pieces durin' Mrs. Munson's choir practice.
Garth, can you run us through the game plan for what remains of our tunnel?
Of course. Why, it's child's play now. Easiest thing in the world.
Only a couple of feet separate us from the vault.
Just the usual spadework until we get to the masonry of the vault,
and then we just drill through.
And will you be able to wield the drill with your maimed extremity?
Oh, well, yeah, I should think so. Yeah, it's, uh, it's only one finger.
Inhibits me in doing finer work of course. I'll always have to live with that.
Maybe - I'm just thinkin' out loud here -
maybe, since as you say there will be problems later,
maybe - and I actually mentioned this to Mountain Girl, she agrees with me,
so it's not just one person's opinion - maybe, uh...
I should get a little extra compensation for the accident.
Somewhat larger share.
Why, if this was any other line of work, I'd be getting workman's comp.
Wouldn't I? Might even have a pretty good lawsuit.
Wait, so you gonna sue yourself for blowing your own goddamn finger off?
- Well, now that is simply asinine. - Yes, but you see, Garth,
this is not what you just called "some other line of work."
Yeah, no, no, no, but if it were...
This is a criminal enterprise, not to put too fine a point on it,
entailing any manner of risk not involved in honest labor.
Governmental regulations and civic safeguards
cannot be assumed to apply to antisocial pursuits.
- Yeah, but he lost his finger. - We don't give a !
That fool could blow his goddamn dick off, it don't make no nevermind to us!
We not payin' this jackass for goin' around blowin' off goddamn body parts!
Get yo' in' head out yo' ass, man!
Look you, there is no call for...
No extra share!
OK. Majority rules.
Like I say, it was just a trial balloon. Hand's not so bad really.
I even get some phantom feeling.
Yeah, you pull on your prick, you get some phantom feelin'.
- Fuck you. - Fuck you.
- Fuck you! - Fuck you, nubbie!
Well, now that that matter is settled,
why don't we synchronize our watches before Gawain reports to work.
In 20 seconds, it will be exactly 12:16.
- Fifteen... - What, it'll be 12:15?
No, 15 seconds. Well, 11 seconds now. It'll be 12:16.
- Eight, seven... - Professor? Prof...?
...six... - Professor?
...five... Yes, Lump!
I don't have a watch.
There'll be no more weepin' and wailin'
No more weepin' and wailin'
No more weepin' and wailin'
Home to live with God Oh...
Soon I will be done with the troubles of this world
Troubles of this world Troubles of this world
Oh, soon I will be done with the troubles of this world
I'm goin' home to live with God
Soon I will be done with the troubles of this world
Troubles of this world Troubles of this world
Troubles of this world
Soon I will be done with the troubles of this world
I'm goin' home to live with God
Well, soon I will be done with the troubles of this world
Troubles of this world Troubles of this, great God!
Soon I will be done with the troubles of this world
I'm goin' home to live with God
Well, I'm goin' up to see King Jesus Hey, hey, yeah!
I'm gonna shake His loving hand
I'm gonna tell Him all about my trouble
As I'm travelin' through this land!
Oh, soon I will be done
Troubles of this world
Yeah, soon I will be done
I'm goin' home to live with God
Yeah, soon I will be done with the troubles of this world
Troubles of this world
Yeah, soon I will be done with the troubles, yeah
I'm goin' home to live with God
Whoo-hoo-hoo!
Ain't that somethin'!
- I.B.S. - You be what?
Irritable Bowel Syndrome! Is there a men's room down here?
Oh, come on. You shouldn't be usin' the men's room now!
If you knew you had the runs, why didn't you shit back at the house?
Quickly!
We don't want Elron finding your stinkin' ass on the crapper!
No choice. It's a medical condition. Quickly!
You one disgustin' individual, you know that?
Come on. Follow me.
I feel 30 pounds lighter.
- Come the on with your stinkass. - Thank you for being so understanding.
Not everyone is, of course, which is why the biggest challenge of I.B.S.
Is educating the public.
Afflicts over two million people, yet most of us have never heard of it.
And it strikes without regard to age, gender or race.
Oh, , man, I don't wanna hear about this shit.
Well, that's exactly the kind of attitude we're fighting.
I guess I never told you that's how Mountain Girl and I met.
They had an I.B.S. Weekend at Grossinger's up in the Catskills.
Of course, the tourist business there has suffered
with the demise of the Borscht Belt,
so they have various promotions, mixers, so on.
This was a weekend for Irritable Bowel singles to meet and support each other
- and share stories. - Man, look here,
I don't want to hear a single one of them stories, OK?
- Now, some of them are very moving. - Not one ing story!
- Look, I didn't choose to have I.B.S. - Man, shut the up!
There's no cure, you know. Only control. Lifelong condition.
Yeah, you know what? Bein' an asshole's a lifelong condition, too.
Just drop the in' tools.
I'm not complaining. I did meet Mountain Girl.
Man, get back in the in' hole!
Oh! Excellent! Excellent. Flawless, flawless. Thumbs up.
Can't stop shittin'. Can't stop talkin' about shittin'.
Gentlemen, to we few. We who have shared each other's company,
each other's cares, each other's joys,
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