75g: Richard Pryor / Gil Scott-Heron

Richard Pryor Stand-Up

.....Richard Pryor

Richard Pryor: The pictures, uh, the pictures that you saw on the TV between the commercials -- that's my family. That was my grandmother, the last one. [Applause.] I didn't want you to think I was sellin' my family or nothin', you know. Grandmother raised me, you know, used to send me to church and stuff so I'd be good. But I liked to hang with the winos. I did. 'Cause winos know Jesus personally. Very religious, you know. Every wino, you ask 'em, "Where's Jesus?" [imitates a screaming wino] "JESUS! HE LIVE OVER IN THE PROJECTS!" And I'd stand around watchin' 'em direct traffic early Sunday morning. Winos are great at directin' traffic, you know.

[as the wino, whistles] "HEY, FOOL! YOU BETTER SLOW THAT CAR DOWN! DON'T COME DRIVING DOWN THROUGH HERE LIKE YOU CRAZY! THIS A NEIGHBORHOOD -- THIS AIN'T NO RESIDENTIAL DISTRICT! You could have killed that sign, anything! I ain't a-playin' with you. I'll put a hurtin' on you, boy. Mess with me. [mumbling to himself, he mimes pulling a bottle from his back pocket, has trouble unscrewing the top] Damn! [drinks, makes a face] Whoooo! Buddy, buddy! [screws the top back on and pockets the bottle while singing wordlessly] Jesus on my mind! [puts index finger to the side of his nose and blows, repeats with the other index finger, gets snot on sleeve, wipes it off on his pants, shakes his head sadly] I ain't good as I used to be. [sees something and points] Now, look at him, look at that boy over there, standin' in the middle of the street. Boy's a stone junkie. Look at him. Used to be a genius. Used to book the numbers, didn't need paper or pencil. Look at him. Now he can't remember who he is. [whistles] Hey, Junior! GET OUT OF THE STREET, BOY! NIGGER, YOU AIN'T NO STOP SIGN! GET OFF THE STREET! JUNIOR!"

[imitates the junkie, mouth open, head thrown back, face to the sky, straightens up, looks around in a panicked daze] "What's happenin'?! Hey! What's happenin'?! I know somethin' happenin' 'cause everything movin'. HEY, OLD DUDE! Pops! You got anything? I feel bad enough to drink some milk."

[as the wino] "Yeah, I got somethin' for ya, boy! Come on off that street. That narcotic done made you null and void. Come here, boy. Come here. Nasty, stinkin' devil, you. Whyn't you get a job, boy, go to work?"

[as the junkie] "Get a job? Go to work? You talkin' to the kid, baby. I worked five years in a row when I was in the joint. I did a nickel, baby. And I can work my tail off, man, pressin' license plates. That's right. But where niggers gonna get a job out here pressin' license plates? Huh? I went to the unemployment bureau... Damn, baby. [falls asleep on his feet, audience applauds, Pryor abruptly wakes up, confused] Was I through? [after a pause, resumes his story] I walked to the unemployment bureau, walked downtown -- clean, you know what I mean? Walked up to the lady sittin' in there with a ol' tiara on her head, typin' tip tip tip tip tip. I said, HEY! She said: [woman's voice] 'Ooh ooh!' I say, Hey! What's happenin'? She looked at my paper: [woman's voice] 'You got a criminal record!' I said, I know that! I'm a criminal! Tell me somethin' I don't know. Like where I'm gonna get a job pressin' license plates. I slapped the you know what. She got all upset. [woman's voice] 'Oooh ooh ooh ooh! Don't hurt me, don't hurt me!' I say, I ain't gonna-- Be cool, old lady -- you know? I ain't gonna take no bust for no old lady. Old nigger with a gun down there come on: [voice of a cranky old man, slapping his holstered gun with his hand] 'Hey, what's the trouble, buddy? Come on, what's going on? What's the trouble?' Hey, YOU the trouble, Tex! Who you supposed to be? Jesse James? Made me sick, man. I threw up on the floor. He talkin' 'bout: [cranky old man's voice] 'Clean it up, baby, clean it up.' I ain't cleanin' no nothin'. If I'd a-wanted it, I'd a-kept it! [Applause.] But I'm hurtin', baby, you know? I went home, y'know. Mama called me a dog. Ma dear, she did. Daddy say he don't wanna see me in the vicinity. Just 'cause I stole his television. Wasn't nothin' on it. Can you help me out, old dude? Please? I'm sick, man. [sings weakly] Help me make it through the night.

[as the wino] "I'm gonna help you, boy. 'Cause I believe you got potential. That's right, you can be somebody 'cause you're sharp, know what I mean? [takes out bottle, unscrews it, hands it to the junkie] Try some o' that. Don't you drop it, nigger! Put ... Slow down. Just take a sip! Go ahead. [watches junkie take a long swallow] You know somethin' about football, don't you? PASS IT! [applause, takes bottle, wipes rim] You know what your problem is? You don't know how to deal with the white man! You got a white man complex. I know how to deal with him. That's why I'm in the position I'm in today." [drinks from the bottle, makes a face, screws the top back on, and pockets it] Thank you. [Much applause.]


Submitted Anonymously