Soul of a Whore and Purvis by Denis Johnson Page B

:                                   Well, I don’t know.
    JERRY : You kill someone, someone kills you . Come on.
    Has justice run away and joined the circus?
    STEVIE : I couldn’t say. I don’t know. Maybe so.
    JERRY : Do you call life in prison “punishment”?
    STEVIE : I’d never actually touch your daughter, Jerry.
    JERRY : You’d better kill ’em: Send ’em all to Hell,
    If Hell awaits them, and be done with it.
    â€¦Here come the preacher man. O, looky here.
    I’d like to thump this guy. If I was bigger,
    Man, I’d grab his legs and bounce him on
    His head until his children’s crying stopped me.
    Good afternoon, good—Huh-uh, man. No way
    I let you in with liquor on your breath.
    BILL JENKS [ having entered ]: You have liquor on your breath, I think.
    JERRY : A lunchtime margarita don’t equate
    To waltzing in here zigzag stinkin’, partner.
    You’d like a little coffee.
    STEVIE :                                       I tossed the coffee.
    JERRY : She tossed the coffee. Bubble us up some more.
    STEVIE : Maybe for later, you mean?—Right now it’s almost—
    JERRY :—Haven’t got the time. The hour is nigh.
    You’ve made the acquaintance of the son?—I think
    The word I’m looking for is “colorful.”
    You’ll pale beside him, pardner. Alley-oop.
    This way. We’re at our maximum
    Or we’d have half Ukiah, California,
    Squooching their butts down in the seats. Ukiah.
    That’d be Indian for “cracker.” Maybe “Okie.”
    My people generate from Tennessee,
    Just like Elvis Presley and Davy Crockett.
    BILL JENKS : Elvis generates from Mississippi.
    JERRY : Elvis came from Memphis, Tennessee.
    BILL JENKS : He was born in Tupelo, Mississippi.
    JERRY : Jesus Christ was born in Israel,
    But that don’t mean he ain’t American.
    STEVIE : I’m not sure we have the time for this.
    JERRY : Stevie, how long is the woman going to be dead?
    â€¦Go on and round ’em up. We’ll be along.
    [ STEVIE exits. ]
    â€”Enough. Will you at least concede that Elvis
    Presley was a son of Tennessee?
    BILL JENKS : I so concede.
    JERRY :                                  All right, enough dispute,
    All right—my daughter gave me this, no sense
    Offending her bounty. Silver-plated. Cheers!
    Go on, raise you a toast to Mississippi.
    BILL JENKS : Mostly I’ve lived my life in California.
    JERRY [ as they move ]: O, well, I’ve never been to California.
    Right this way—look down, these sonabitchin’
    Paparazzi will fill your eyes with moons—
    I mean, I might get out there, maybe for
    A ball game on the order of the Series
    Or a playoff, if Texas could field a decent team,
    But all we have is the Rangers and the Astros.
    [ They enter the Witness Room, joining JOHN (still costumed as a clown) and STEVIE .]
    What are you supposed to be? A clown?
    JOHN : We’re here to raise my mother from the dead.
    JERRY : Ukiah , that’d be Indian for “Him
    Who Picks His Nose and Eats It.”
    JOHN :                                                     Who’s this guy?
    JERRY : The PIO.
    STEVIE :               A son, here: this is John.
    JOHN : The PIO?
    STEVIE :                 You know the Reverend.
    JOHN : The PIO?
    JERRY :                   I think we need this