Addio zio Tom Page #9

---

You should be ashamed of yourself,

you ugly whore.

When you came here, were you

really a virgin?

Or is the old man too old

to f*** anymore?

Are you really a virgin?

You whore, you whore!

Come in, child.

Come on in.

Do you want me, master?

I asked for you. I'm clean.

- I'm also a virgin.

- What are you saying, child?

- How old are you?

- I'm thirteen.

- You're just a child.

- I'm thirteen, Mammy says.

You mean that here, girls like you--

Where I come from we don't do this.

- I'm not from here.

- Do you want this first?

Mammy says that if whites don't play

with the whip first,

they can't get it up to f*** a woman.

What are you saying?

The stranger is the journalist

Malcolm Fawcett,

and this conversation was excerpted

from his experiences in Louisiana.

It refers to his first night in Mobile,

in the home of Mr. Charleston,

a planter,

whose guest he was for a week.

Please, master, don't send me away.

- Do me this favor.

- Don't raise your voice.

Mammy will be angry

if I stay a virgin.

- Please,join me.

- What do you mean, right here?

Your bed is so big,

and I am so small.

If I take my dress off, I don't smell.

You know, I washed my whole body.

I don't smell, master.

If you're tired though, for real,

- I'll let you sleep.

- Sleep. It would be hard now, child.

It would be too bad, though, master.

I like you.

''I wanted to dissuade her,''

writes Fawcett,

''even though, knowing the custom,

I realized I was being rude.

But when I recommended that she turn

to a young man of her same condition --''

You mean with a Negro?

No, I don't like Negroes.

No, Negroes disgust me.

I tried once with a Negro.

He hurt me so much.

He was so big.

You know,

White men

are much smaller, master.

It's much better

for a beginner like me.

White men don't smell like Negroes.

Do me the favor,

master, please.

Yes, like that, master.

Yes.

This awful book from Boston goes on

to spread even more filth. Listen.

''As for the southern ladies,

their famous virtue

is greatly devalued by the fact that

they have no choice in the matter.''

Listen to this.

''How could they not be virtuous,

since their men would much rather

go with colored girls?''

- I can't believe it.

- ''The truth is that these women

can get no satisfaction from either

husbands or potential lovers,

as these are too often occupied with

the comely slaves on the plantation.''

The horror! How could someone write

such venomous nonsense?

It's all shameless political propaganda.

What do they know of the Negroes,

those pencil pushers from Boston

and Philadelphia?

Nothing. But envy, prejudice and malice

induce them to try to humiliate us

in every way possible.

My God, how could they insult

our husbands like this? Our men?

It's absolutely disgraceful.

Goodness, accusing our men

of fornicating with slaves

is like saying that they're copulating

with animals.

It's nothing less than

an accusation of sexual aberration.

The phenomenon of abnormal mating

between whites and Negroes

has a scientific name: Bestiality.

- It's disgraceful!

- Lies!

As if we didn't know all too well where

our husbands take their incontinence!

Every Friday night --

but what am I saying?

I'm sorry, my friends, but we shouldn't

speak so clearly in front of them.

Don't worry, my dear. I've noticed

a tendency among our slaves

a general tendency to develop

a lighter skin tone.

As time goes by, they become

lighter and lighter.

But their mentality, intelligence

and sensitivity are those of animals.

It's true, each generation

is lighter than the previous one.

In my house there have been

a few pink Negro babies, even.

My husband says that this

phenomenon is called --

Symbiosis. The scientific term

is symbiosis. Your husband is right.

It's like those creatures that take on

the color of their habitat.

You're right, dear.

Take Scipio, for example.

He's left-handed, like my brother.

Or takeJason, here.

My husband raised him personally

from when he was a child.

And now, incredibly, he's almost

as blond as my husband.

Nature is truly bizarre.

Here it is, my Negro factory.

You get the general idea down there.

Business was going downhill.

Cotton and tobacco were in crisis.

So I got up my courage and transformed

the plantation into a stud farm.

And I have to say it's worked out well

because the new law that prohibits

importing Negroes from Africa

has practically doubled

the price of slaves.

- And so, after everything--

- Hey, Pa!

Mr. Wilson's here!

Hello Mr. Bighorn.

I've brought the Negress.

Here she is.

Did you count the days well?

- Are you completely sure she's in heat?

- Of course she's in heat.

She's perfectly ready for breeding.

If we give her to the male right away,

he'll certainly go right for her.

Okay.

How many days has it been

since the bleeding stopped?

My wife counted 1 2.

With the trip, that makes 1 3.

If you let me breed her right away, I'll

be out of your hair within two hours.

Can I have her, Pa?

We'll talk about that

after the examination.

For now, do your homework.

- Is she healthy?

- Of course.

- She doesn't have crabs?

- What are you saying?

We always kept her at home.

- Oh, so she's a virgin.

- Of course.

You know that we've been saving her

forJason.

What?

A virgin for such a stallion?

He'll rip her innards apart.

If he does, you can sew her up again.

Don't worry.

You know I could breed this one

for at least $50.

And right at home, too.

If I've made 60 Negroes

and paid 200 for it

it's because I likeJason's line.

- Okay.

- Let's go.

You know full well

you won't find another one like this.

Well done!

But that's your business.

Hey stallion!

Hey three-legged stallion!

Hi General.

How's your father's arthritis?

He's been doing much better since

getting Negro compresses on his legs.

You're right, Mr. Bighorn.

Strong wine and dark meat

cure arthritis, nice and neat.

That's right.

But then I'll find myself with

a whole litter with arthritis.

Hey Wilson, look there!

- Where?

- Over there, up ahead, that glass.

Why?

Those journalists always want us

to look in that glass.

Go wait for me in the barn.

I'll be right there.

Okay.

First I have to deal with

these gentlemen.

Bring me some more sugar cane!

They're almost all vintage '43.

A very good year.

I only lost 25%%.

It's usually 40-60%%,

especially from German measles,

which is nothing when it comes to

human blood, but it wipes them out.

Why are there so many blondes?

What you want me to say?

One or another might be mine.

Lots of them are my brother's.

Some are from the priest.

Some are from some guests

who were passing through.

Okay, enough, don't be greedy.

These are the breeding females.

With the new stallions Auze and Mandico

that I bought three years ago,

I've been successful with 86%% of them.

With an interval between productions

of less than 60 days.

Hey, where are you?

Come over here, look at this one!

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes