Cotton Comes to Harlem Page #7

deke o'malley.

You blew it,

deke!

Get out of here!

No, no. Listen.

Listen, now.

L-listen, now. Ha.

I got-i got...

listen to me!

I got something

to tell you!

Listen. No, no, no.

No, no. No!

No, don't-

don't turn your backs.

Don't. Listen to me.

Don't turn

your backs on me.

No. No, listen to me.

Listen to me.

Listen!

I can be like malcolm!

Believe me!

Don't turn

your backs on me!

Don't turn your backs-

jarema, what the hell

is going on here?

Oh!

It's empty, luddy.

What's empty?

Damn cotton bale

is empty.

Ha!

Where are they?

Where the hell are those

2 cops who was here?

What, you mean

coffin ed and grave digger?

Yeah.

Oh, man.

They've been gone.

$87,000.

What the hell for?

Your whole operation

is sittin'

on a black volcano, man.

Right, caspar?

Uh, I'm afraid

he's right, tom.

You see, tom, things

have changed up here.

Black people

are thinking about

taking over

white businesses.

Right, caspar?

Right. I was just

reading an article

on black capitalism.

That's right.

And there ain't

no capitalism

bigger than yours

in harlem.

Right, caspar?

Right.

Now, the way I see things

is, uh, is organization.

Uh, and not only new blood,

but black blood,

improvin' the operation

around here.

Uh, seems to me that

there's a whole lot of money

uh, in just being black

these days.

So there's got

to be some way.

Hmm?

Sit down.

How much is it gonna cost me

to stop this kind of talk?

$87,000.

Well,

that bale was empty.

That money must have

been planted in there.

Planted?

By who, you idiot?

Jones and johnson?

Well, I still say the-

the bale was empty.

Well, it sure

ain't empty now.

Lieutenant, I think

you better count it.

Don't you?

Mm-hmm.

Oh,

I bet it's all here.

Well, perhaps

sergeant jarema

ought to

count it himself.

You tricked me.

I don't know how you two

black bastards did it,

but you tricked me.

Jarema,

I want you to apologize

to these two officers

for that racial slur,

or I'll have your badge.

Aw, I apologize,

but...

but...

you'll, uh, have to

overlook jarema.

He's... had a bad day.

Haven't we all?

May we go, captain?

May you-

of course.

Congratulations.

Thank you, sir.

Ed, digger.

Tell me something,

will ya?

What's a bale of cotton

doing in harlem?

"Dear grave digger jones

and coffin ed johnson..."

uncle budd:
If you're

still dragging the river

looking for the body

of old uncle budd

and the 87,000,

stop.

I am now

a retired gentleman

raising cotton on my villa

in africa.

If you are ever

in this neck of the woods,

please drop in and see me.

"Yours truly,

booker washington simms."

Ha ha ha!

Better known

as old uncle budd.

Ha ha ha ha!

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