Richard Pryor
Mudbone
All Italian people are not in the Mafia. Whether you believe it or not. They’re not. Really. Most of them work for the Mafia. But they’re all not in the Mafia. What? – Do what? – Mudbone, Richie! All right, this is the last time Mudbone will be seen anywhere. This is Mudbone’s last show. Ladies and gentlemen, from Tupelo. Mississippi. Mudbone. You know… Now, I know that boy. See. He fucked up. See. That tire got on his ass… and it fucked him up upstairs. Fried up what little brains he had. ‘Cause I remember the motherfucker. He could make a motherfucker laugh… at a funeral on Sunday. Christmas day. But you know what happened? He got some money. That’s what happened. He got some money! Them missed meal cramps and shit was gone. He said. “Fuck it.” Went all the way crazy. Shit, now me? I’m still hungry. See. I’m gonna be out here four days and six months. I watched this boy, Rich. He used to come by. Leave me a dollar here. Fifty cents there. He was all right, you know. He would never lend me five. Though. But he let me have them two’s and tews. You know. So I felt tor the boy. I went over there and talked to him. And he ignorant. ’cause I sit down to talk to him… You don’t let him get none of that powder in his nose. That’s like tryin’ to talk to a baboon’s ass. I talked to the boy seven days and seven nights. He was still on the same subject. “Where can I get some more?” So I talked to him. You know. I said… “Boy, why don’t you do something with yourself? Since religion ain’t your thing… maybe you take up ballet.” It makes me laugh, thinkin’ about it. I told him, “Cause you gonna be black a long time. So you might as well enjoy yourself… ’cause there ain’t many black motherfuckers out there doin’ it.” He said, “Don’t stop now.” I said. “Don’t lighten up. Tighten up.” That’s what I told him. And he must have listened to me. He was gonna register to vote. I knew he was sick then. So. Listen. I’m not gonna steal the show from the boy. I ain’t gonna do that. So, I’m gonna… The boy got the camera. Only white folks can do that. And they make it look like such a mystery. They never let no black people do no shit like that. The only time you see black people doing some of that shit… is when they want the plug plugged in. “Say, boy. Plug that in.” That’s how you be sayin’. “I works on the camera crew.” I say. “What you do?” “Plug in the thing.” I say. “A monkey can do that.” Guess that’s why they hired him. See, I’ve lived through hard times before. People talk about these as hard times. Hard times was way back. They didn’t even have a year for it. Just called it “Hard Times.” It was dark all the time. I think the sun came out on Wednesday. And it you didn’t have your ass up early. You missed it. So I happened to be out there one Wednesday… and the sun hit me right in the face. I grabbed a bunch of it and rubbed it all over myself. Shit. I didn’t have nothin’ else. Might as well have some sun on my face. And as time went on. I remembered it was Thursday. I said. “Damn. That sun was a bitch. That’s why they didn’t want us to have none of it.” ‘Cause it’d cheer you up inside. You see. So I got all cheered up… and went out on a date. Lucinda Belle Mae. The girl was pretty. Coal black. Her skin was tender… like a baby’s butt. Her sweet breasts smelled like Carnation milk. That’s how tender she was. I liked her, too, you see. She had a little liking to me. So Lucinda… We’d have to tip away. We’d go up and do a little kissin’ up in the apple orchard. We’d tip away together on Wednesday mornin’… when the sun was up. We’d get up there. I’d make her put a little on her face… and she relaxed. When she relaxed. I started rubbin’ all over her. Women like when you rub on ’em… if you rub ’em in them right spots. You know. You got to rub ’em right there. Right on the inside of her leg by the kneecap. Rub ’em right there. And you rub it around until it starts burnin’. They open up then. Boy. ‘Cause there ain’t but two pieces of pussy you’re gonna get in your life. That’s your first and your last. And all that shit in between don’t count. That’s just the extra gravy. They say. “When’s the last time you got some pussy?” I say. “Yesterday. That’s as tar as I want to remember it.” I don’t want to sit around. Some motherfucker ask me… “How long you had some pussy?” I go… I don’t want to live that long. What I’m sayin’… What the point I’m tryin’ to make is… that there is no point to be made. That’s all that there is. There ain’t no point to it. ‘Cause you didn’t ask to come to this motherfucker… and you sure can’t choose how to leave. ‘Cause you don’t know when you’re gonna go. So don’t take this shit serious You better have some tun and plenty of it. ‘Cause when the shit old and you ask for a recharge, it’s too late. So all I can say is keep some sunshine on your face