“Speaking down from the top of the moving van, the director explains the action to the nth degree, how they’re to walk, look, and carry themselves. So while the crowd stands gawking and making jokes, the leading man and lady get all set to act.
“Now, for this scene both the leading man and lady are dressed in normal everyday clothes, except that hers are sparkling new. From the shoes on her feet to the ribbon in her hair, which is black and glossy like an Indian’s, she’s dressed in the latest fashion. She’s also young and very good-looking, and now as she comes sashaying up the street to the ice-cream parlor the cameramen are grinding like they’re grabbing at a dream that’s walking. Then some jokers standing across the street in weird costumes start yelling, ‘Whooo-wheee!’ and ‘My, oh, my!’ and ‘Now did you ever!’ But she pays them no mind, because after all it had happened so often in her everyday life. So she just heads into the ice-cream parlor like the director said and disappears….
“So then the director signals the leading man, and here he comes from the other direction, tipping along with a smile on his face and pretending that he didn’t see her. He’s just strolling along with a smile on his face and trying to play it cool in just the way the director is instructing him through his little megaphone. And for a hotel waiter who’d never done that kind of acting he’s doing fine—yeah, but then the worthy BooBoo Beaujack strikes again!
“Just as the leading man reaches the ice-cream parlor, here comes a bunch of drunks running like crazy as they splash around the corner pulling and pushing a big dirty barrel in a beat-up baby buggy. Nobody like them is supposed to be anywhere near the scene, but when the cameramen yell for them to get the hell out of the way the director yells orders for them to let the drunks proceed and to keep on shooting—which they do. The drunks still don’t know what it’s all about, but when they see all the folks on the other side of the street they realize that something unusual is happening and skid to a stop. And when they look around and see that the leading man has neither a false face nor a weird costume, they figure he’s fair game if only because he’s looking and acting different.
“‘Hey,’ one of them yells to the others, ‘this here dude must be some kinda freak, so let’s give him the treatment!’ And before the poor movie hero knows what’s happening, they grab him and force a dipperful of BooBoo’s hyped-up Choc—which was what was in the barrel—down his throat. And with that things really started going to hell.
“Now, as all you old-timers know, Choc beer has been scarce ever since Repeal, but in those days it was plentiful. And not only did it have a fine taste and bouquet, it had a kick like TNT. So when the crowd gets a whiff of what the BooBoo’s henchmen were forcing the hero to drink they react like they’re witnessing a long overdue initiation into a fraternity and rush across the street. And in a second they’re making such an uproar that when the little leading lady looks out the window and sees what’s happening to her leading man she figures that once the drunks gets through with him they’ll be coming after her. So she slips out of the back door and disappears.
“But although the scene was getting truly rowdy, the drunks were simply using the leading man to have what they considered to be some innocent fun. It’s when Miss Brilliantine shows up and decides to go them one better that things get really nasty.
“Like her twin sister, Miss Thomasina, Miss Brilliantine is big, overbearing as a lady bear, good-looking in a damn-near-white sort of fashion, but far from bright, and the kind of woman who’ll do anything just to be outrageous. So when she spies the movie director standing up high against the sky while his buddies below are busy pointing that camera like they were a couple of mad-dog machine-gunners who had orders to shoot anything that moves and intend to do it, Miss Brilliantine decides to steal the entire scene by bringing the movie hero down. That way she figures to get herself both some cheap notoriety and demonstrate her talent for acting.
“So with that hungry camera swinging up and down and around and around like the unblinking eye of ever-watching God, Miss Brilliantine starts knocking folks out of her way until she reaches the leading man. And when the drunks give way so they can see what she’s about to do, she puts a headlock on the poor man and goes into her act.
“First she yanks the man around and yells, ‘Come to mama, good-looking, and let’s swap some slobber!’ Then she makes him kiss her square on her nasty-talking mouth. And then, with the crowd urging her on by making juicy kissing sounds, she purses up her lips and blinks her big mascaraed eyes and starts pretending that she’s as shy a young gal as the little leading lady—only with great big ants in her great big pants. Then, squeezing him in a bear hold, she does a take-off on Theda Bara by tossing the crowd a high-toned over-the-shoulder stare. Then she says to the poor bewildered bug-eyed man, ‘Kiss me, you fool!’ And then she gets to giggling and tries to smother the man with her great big pair of jugs while she blinks her eyes and coos, ‘Oh, please, please be good to me, daddy, ‘cause I’m really very young.’ Then she grabs his head and damn near suffocates the man with a half a yard of tongue! And when the crowd applauds she hugs him even tighter while she does the shimmy and whines, ‘Oh, daddy, daddy, daddy, I’ve never, never had it so fine!’ and tries to break his back with a double-Georgia grind!
“With this the crowd screams even louder and the poor man looks like he wants to hang his head and die, but being a gentleman and realizing that she’s playing to the crowd and clowning for the camera, he just shakes his head real disgusted. But with the crowd begging for some more, Miss Brilliantine decides to knock them for a loop by getting real lowdown and personal. That’s right, and the camera keeps on grinding.
“So now she looks at the hero with those phony goo-goo eyes and starts to fumbling for his fly. And even though all that Choc has left him groggy, he puts up some resistance—which is exactly what she’s hoping for. But when she looks around to see if the camera is recording what she’s doing to the man, all at once she throws back her head and starts screaming bloody murder at the three white movie men. But the camera just keeps on grinding.
“Now she has the hero in a bear hug and holding on while he’s still acting like a gentleman even as he tries to get away. But then the crowd whirls around and he sees it gawking and making room for something that’s beyond his range of vision. And the next thing he knows they’re laughing and scraping their fingers at Miss Brilliantine—because all of a sudden the camera’s deserted her and gone to pointing toward the ground, where it’s making eye-to-eye contact with a long, lean, blue-tick hound!
“That’s right,” Cliofus laughed as he paused to sip some water, “she’s been upstaged by a hound! Now, no one knows where he came from, or just when he hit the scene, but with so many weird-looking humans cutting the fool he has his tail between his legs and his ears drooping down. And as he stares from mask to mask he looks pure-dee bewildered. But then he sees that except for this one big woman who seems to want to lynch him all the rest are warm and friendly he decides to hang around. And besides that, he’s reminded that he’s hungry and would like to eat when all at once he smells some red-eye gravy on somebody’s smelly feet. So even though Miss Brilliantine is still after his hide he realizes that the camera is recording his each and every twitch, and he makes a decision which for a dog in his position is a very serious move. Meanwhile the camera keeps a-grinding.
“So now with Miss Brilliantine still ranting and raving and demanding his meat, he stakes his life on a policy of do-or-die and decides to do a number in the style of Petey, the white-haired bulldog of the Our Gang comedy fame, the one with a thick black ring around his eye. And since it’s his first performance before an audience of such overwhelming size, he decides that the best way to please both the camera and the crowd is by doing what comes naturally. So with his brow wrinkled up and his ears laid back he starts turning second-hand slow in a perfect circle. Then, pointing his nose upwind and buckling down in what turns out to be a spectacular feat of concentration, he p
roceeds to demonstrate his finest form in laying down a doggie-do which would have been worth a cool fifty dollars if the dog-catcher caught him at it.
“Well, the crowd was amazed, but when Miss Brilliantine gets a glimpse of his heroic production she damn near busts her britches. But all her cursing and screaming at the hound could hardly be heard as the crowd goes wild over his bit of natural acting. And with folks applauding his mighty effort on each and every side, the hound gives himself a whiplash shake which travels from his head to his tail and fairly beams with pride.
“‘Somebody better get that nasty son-of-a-bitch away from here,’ Miss Brilliantine screams as she aims him a kick, but she truly fails to appreciate the effect of a little public recognition on the ego of the hound. Because now that he knows that he’s the focus of the camera and the crowd’s attention he’s not about to lose it. Oh, no! So before Miss Brilliantine can knock enough folks out of her way to get at him he starts to reeling off tricks faster than a riverboat gambler dealing educated cards.
“He rolls over, plays dead, turns a double somersault, and stands on his head. He walks on three legs and then on two, whirls on his toes and runs his big wet nose up Miss Brilliantine’s thigh and sniffs it. Then he hits a house fly with his tail and cuts it straight in half, crawls on his belly and wiggles his ears, and bows to the crowd for their thundering cheers. Next he runs backwards faster than the great Bojangles in his prime, slams on brakes, and stops on a dime. Then flapping his ears like he intends to fly, he reverses the field about twenty paces, cocks his leg, and without squinting an eye he knocks an iron fire hydrant straight up into the sky. And when it makes a curve and starts rocketing back to earth, he sets it a-tumbling with a vicious second burst. Then with the damnedest display of marksmanship the crowd has ever seen, he washes it down until it’s not only hound-tooth clean but changed in color from a firehouse red to a glistening green while it’s still up there circling like a fat woodchuck among a flight of pigeons. And then, while the crowd is running and ducking from the fall-out of his stream, he does a Houdini in the heavy cloud of steam—and the camera keeps on grinding.
“With that the mystified crowd is arguing and cussing. With some saying, ‘He went here,’ and others, ‘He went there,’ but of the hound himself there’s neither hide nor hair. Exactly where he’s gone nobody really knows, but according to this Geechee gal known as ‘Miss Heavy Toes,’ he’s long, long gone and headed South so the city can’t sue him for damages. Then there’s a loud difference of opinion on various grounds as they argue whether according to man-made law, or even the Bible, a hound could really be held liable for obeying the laws of his doggy nature. But then when things start to getting real contentious, with some folks cussing and others quoting Scripture—there stands the hound, and he’s giving them a grin as he poses like a star for those moving-picture men—and the camera keeps on grinding.
“And what gives weight to Miss Heavy Toes’ theory is the indisputable fact that he has his tail pointing north and his nose pointing south, grits on his chin, and red-eye gravy on his long lean mouth! But although everybody’s amazed and delighted, he gives them no time to figure out just where he got it. And maybe to remind them of the true spirit of the day they’re celebrating he starts beating time with his tail, which is as stiff as a rail, and with a-one, a-two, a-three, he throws back his head and it’s ‘My Country ‘Tis of Thee’ that he howls.
“He really sends the crowd with his mastery, and when they give him a great big hand he takes a bow-wow bow and gives them the radiance of his canine smile. And when Miss Brilliantine protests and causes the crowd to boo, he proves for all his admirers that he’s by no means through. Sitting up on his haunches ramrod straight, he starts to covering first his eyes, then his ears and his mouth at a mind-spinning rate as he flashes his paws and imitates those three wise monkey boys of yore, who were known as See-no, Hear-no, and Speak-no Evil.
“It’s an eye-popping performance, and smooth as silk, except that when he covers his eyes his hackles rise, and when he covers his mouth to everyone’s surprise he looks straight at Miss Brilliantine with a sweet soulful expression in his big brown eyes—which proves again that he’s one lo-mo signifying hound, while the cameramen keep on grinding.
“Yeah, but his fine performance and the sniff he gave Miss Brilliantine didn’t help him one bit. Because with the crowd knocked off its feet by his fine performance she’s fit to be whipped and tied. She tries to get at him once again, but the crowd won’t let her. And when she sees the movie men still grinding that camera at the hound she rears back with her hands on her hips and starts reading them some uncensored chapters from her very filthy mind. But just when she’s about to bust a gut from dishing out such smut, it’s Jack BooBoo Beaujack who comes out of nowhere to cool her down.
“First Jack grins and pats the hound on the head and lets him smell his funky fingers, and as drunk as he acts he sounds stone-cold sober when he straightens up to address Miss Brilliantine.
“He says, ‘Woman, how come you badmouthing and abusing these innocent movie men? Are you trying to make out like what they’re doing is some kind of sin? If so, I’m here to tell you that they’re only doing their duty just the way this dog was doing hissen. Which is a hell of a lot more than can be said for you! Why, the way you been acting is a crime, a sin, and a damn disgrace, to the state, the country, and the whole human race. And that includes your own funky butt and all of us who been watching you tear your nasty drawers in a public place. Just who the hell you think you kidding, when everybody knows for a fact that the only reason you were trying to make that leading man look like a clown was because he’s a gentleman and wouldn’t fight back. If it had been me and you wasn’t so plump I’d a lost my foot in your big fat rump! You tried to play the poor man cheap, and when the joke goes against you, you start acting like some Northern creep, who thinks all the folks in this part of the country is ignunt!’
“And when Miss Brilliantine gives him a drop-dead stare he basses at her deep and loud, ‘Don’t you roll those bloodshot eyes at me! ‘Cause I’m big as you and twice as evil! Yeah! That’s what I said, and if you don’t like it I’ll go upside your ignunt head!’ Then he balls up his great big fist and sniffs it.
“Jack sounds like he means it too, and for once Miss Brilliantine pays some heed to a man and just stands there pouting and glaring. So then Jack sees the director standing way up high as he directs his buddies where to point the camera and decides to gives Miss Brilliantine the benefit of his philosophy:
“‘Woman,’ he says, ‘you’ve got a lot to learn about the game of life, so you better give strict attention to this sound advice, because from now on these are the rules of the street that you better follow:
“‘Number One: When you trick a sucker, take what’s yours because you won it fair. But don’t rub it in and mess with his pride unless you aim to commit instant suicide.
“‘Number Two: When you get tricked by Lady Luck or a smarter trickster, the rule of the game is not to complain, because the only way to save what’s more precious than winning is by taking your loss and coming up grinning. So you better remember what the old folks say about every good dog having his day, because that’s the stone-cold truth even though they forgot to say a word about bitches!
“‘So now straighten up and stop all this assing around and give some credit to this fine little hound, because thanks to you, this heah day is hissen!’
“Then, while the crowd gives him a thunderous hand, Jack pats the hound on the head and takes a bow while Miss Brilliantine hikes her skirt and disappears—and those cameramen keep grinding.
“Then, with a wag of his tail for what Jack said about him doing his natural duty, the hound backs back and kicks real hard, then takes off doing sixty for his own backyard—if he had one.
“Because just as nobody had ever seen him before, no one has seen him since, and that’s why he’s still the subject of great argument in our oldest barbershops, pool ha
lls, and bars—but that’s another story. As for now the crowd is delighted with his signifying, self-made part, and while those drunk masked actors discuss the hound’s acting skills, the movie men start searching for the hero with that camera.
“And that’s exactly when Pulliham’s old dog’s howling warning takes effect. Because after taking Miss Brilliantine’s double-barreled blows to his sobriety, manhood, and self-esteem—and he took it mostly with a smile—the hero was too unstrung to finish with the scene which the drunks had interrupted. And besides, the little leading lady is long, long gone to parts unknown and no one knows where to find her. So after making his polite excuses to one and all, the hero heads for his redheaded Texas woman’s house, where he hopes to get his head together and his ashes hauled. That Choc which they made him drink has him pretty groggy, and since the movie men want him rested for his big love scene it’s fine with them that he takes off. ‘Just take it easy and be ready for tomorrow’s shooting,’ is what they tell him.
“That was late in the afternoon, but now we come to what happened that evening. Halloween is really popping all up and down the streets, with kids racing around with lighted railroad flares dripping hot sulfur on everybody’s feet, throwing firecrackers into crowds, and putting torpedoes and cherry bombs on the streetcar tracks. One bunch went celebrating on the outskirts of town by running through alleys pushing the little outhouses over ‘til they landed on the ground. By using teamwork and keeping quiet they’d toppled four in a row when they pushed on one that came alive. They’d just begun to count, a-one, a-two, a-three, and were set to bring it down when they heard a voice from inside yell, ‘Wait! Dammit, wait! This ain’t no time to clown!’ But although some took off running like the ghosts they were pretending to be the others laughed and heaved it over with the doorway facing down. Then with the man cursing and thumping about inside and outraged neighbors firing shotguns in the air they broke all kinds of records as they beat it out of there. And that they considered having fun in those honey-dipper days.