A Super Picture

Well, well, well, here's Mama Bloom's brood. One hundred suits of armor in the property department of the Excello Pictures Corporation in Hollywood. Just as he was getting rid of him to a junk man, a truck pulled up and delivered a hundred more, also purchased by Sydney.

Now we find Papa at home, lying down as Mama says. Jack? Jack, are you feeling bad? No. Yeah, Greg, don't bumble, I'm not feeling but your sex. I didn't say nothing back here. Then you shouldn't be making so much noise when you don't say nothing.

Mama, please, please let me alone. I'm not feeling good. I've got pain, lots of pain, two hundred pains, and all of them are made of iron. I'm a papa. You shouldn't be thinking about them all the time.

You know, from the bad news something. I don't want to eat anything, but you got... Blinches with sour cream, snitcheen. I've got a headache. The more you're thinking about the iron suits, the more headaches you'll get.

Like I'm always saying, Papa, you shouldn't be crying over the bean spot on the floor. Bean, floor, floor, beans. What I care about beans on the floor. I am worried about 200 suits of armor and the props are part of the studio.

Maybe they're good for something. Mama, you're talking to your hat. If Sydney is not knowing what to do with 100 suits of armor, and he buys 100 more, then that makes twice as much foolishness.

Yes, and twice as much dominant. Papa, you ain't thinking right. I don't want to think right or wrong. Jack, listen to me and I'll tell you something. You've me buys a hundred times. You're telling me?