Calvin Candie Monologues

So, bright boy, Moguy tells me you looked over my African flesh and you was none too impressed, huh?

Well, then, we got nothing more to talk about. You see, you want to buy a beat ass nigger from me, those are the beat ass niggers I want to sell, so…

Well, I don’t sell the niggers I don’t wanna sell.

And what do you consider “ridiculous?”

Gentlemen, you had my curiosity, now you have my attention.

Hello. Stephen, my boy!

Aw, Stephen, you have nails for breakfast? What’s the matter? Why you so ornery? You miss me? Huh?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Stephen! Stephen! Let’s keep it funny. Django here’s a freeman.

That nigger there. Let me at least introduce the two of you. Django, this is a another cheeky black bugger like yourself, Stephen. Stephen, this here is Django. You two oughta hate each other.

Django, and his friend in gray here, Dr. Schultz, are customers. And they are our guests, Stephen. And you, you old, decrepit bastard, you are to show them every hospitality. You understand that?

You don’t have to know why. Do you understand?

Well, good. They’re spending the night. Go open the guest bedrooms and get two ready.

Stephen. He’s a slaver. It’s different.

Well, you got a problem with that?

That is my problem! They are mine to burn! Now your problem right now is making a good impression! And I want you to start solving that problem right now and get them goddamn rooms ready!

Man, the lip on him! Whoo! He’s getting worse and worse. Now, WHERE IS MY BEAUTIFUL SISTER?

This is Ben. He’s a old Joe that lived around here for a long time. And I do mean a long damn time. Old Ben here took care of my daddy and my daddy’s daddy, till he up and keeled over one day. Old Ben took care of me. Growing up the son of a huge plantation owner in Mississippi puts a white man in contact with a whole lot of black faces. I spent my whole life here right here in Candyland, surrounded by black faces. And seeing them every day, day in day out, I only had one question. Why don’t they kill us? Now right out there on that porch three times a week for fifty years, old Ben here would shave my daddy with a straight razor. Now if I was old Ben, I would have cut my daddy’s goddamn throat, and it wouldn’t have taken me no fifty years to do it neither. But he never did. Why not? You see, the science of phrenology is crucial to understanding the separation about two species. In the skull of the African here, the area associated with submissiveness is larger than any human or other sub-human species on planet Earth. If you examine this piece of skull here, you’ll notice three distinct dimples. Here, here and here. Now if I was holding a skull of a… of an Isaac Newton or Galileo, these three dimples would be in the area of the skull most associated with creativity. But this is the skull of old Ben, and in the skull of old Ben unburdened by genius, these three dimples exist in the area of the skull most associated with servility.

Now bright boy, I will admit you are pretty clever. But if I took this hammer here and I bashed it in your skull, you would have the same three dimples in the same place as old Ben.

Never the less, here in Chickasaw County, a deal ain’t done till the two parties have shook hands. Even after all that paper signin’, don’t mean shit you don’t shake my hand.

Mr. Pooch, if she tries to leave here before this nigger-loving German shakes my hand, you cut her ass down!

Dr. Schultz, in Greenville, you yourself said that for the right nigger you’d be willing to pay what some may consider is a ridiculous amount. To which me myself said “What is your definition of ridiculous?” To which you said “$12,000.” Now, considering y’all have ridden a whole lot of miles…

… went through a whole lot of trouble…

… and done spread a whole lot of bull to purchase this lovely lady right here, it would appear that Broomhilda is in fact the right nigger. And if y’all wanna leave Candyland with Broomhilda, the price… is $12,000.

Yes, I do, Doctor. You see, under the laws of Chickasaw County, Broomhilda, here, is my property… and I can choose to do with MY PROPERTY… WHATEVER I SO DESIRE!

And if y’all think my price for this nigger here is too steep, what I’m gonna desire to do is…

TAKE THIS GODDAMNED HAMMER HERE, AND BEAT HER ASS TO DEATH WITH IT! RIGHT IN FRONT OF BOTH YA’LL! THEN WE CAN EXAMINE THE THREE DIMPLES INSIDE BROOMHILDA’S SKULL! NOW… WHAT’S IT GONNA BE DOC? HUH? WHAT’S IT GOING TO BE?

SOLD… TO THE MAN WITH EXCEPTIONAL BEARD, AND HIS UNEXCEPTIONAL NIGGER!

I’ve heard tell about you. I heard you been telling everybody them mandingos ain’t no damn good, ain’t nothing nobody is selling is worth buying – I’m curious. What makes you such a mandingo expert?

Django, and his friend in gray here, Dr. Schultz, are customers. And they are our guests, Stephen, and you, you old decrepit bastard are to show them every hospitality. You understand that?

Well, be careful now, Dr. Schultz. You might have caught yourself a little dose of nigger love. Nigger love’s a powerful emotion, boy. It’s like a pool of black tar. Once it catches your ass, your caught.

Where I part company from many of my phrenologist colleagues is I believe there is a level above bright, above talented, above loyal that a nigger can aspire to. Say, one nigger that just pops up in ten thousand. The exceptional nigger.

But Lara Lee, Dr. Schultz is from Dusseldorf, they don’t got niggers there. He’s a man of medicine! I’m sure it would fascinate him, the niggers endurance for pain. These niggers are tough, Dr. Schultz, no doubt about it. Hildi’s got somethin’ like four lashes on her back. If Lara Lee just get one, she’d lose her goddamn mind! Look at that Doctor. It’s like a painting. Look at that.

Why would they go through all that trouble for a nigger with a chewed up back, ain’t worth three hundred dollars?

If she’s who they want, why the whole snake oil pitch about Mandingos then?

Yes, it did. His wife, huh? If there’d been a snake, it would have bit me. Those lyin’ goddamn time wastin’ sonsabitches! Sonsabitches!

Moguy, I want you to take care of my new boy, here. You find him a room with a soft bed and then you bring him up a pony to lick his pole.

Now, now, now, now, now. No beggin’, no playin’ on my soft heart. You in trouble now, son. Now, I done paid five hundred dollars for you. And when I pay five hundred dollars, I expect to get five fights outta a nigga ‘fore he roll over and play dead. I done said I’m runnin’ a business here. You’ve fought three fights.

You never know how these nigger nicknames get started. His name was Joe. Maybe one day he said he was cold? Who knows?

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