John Witherspoon: Mr. Jones

Friday

Mr. Jones

[Mr. Jones catches Craig with a handgun]
Mr. Jones: What's that for?
Craig Jones: Protection.
Mr. Jones: Protection? Protection from who?
Craig Jones: Me and Smokey... I got to walk Smokey down to his house.
Mr. Jones: Aw, man. Your mother and I never woulda moved to this neighborhood if we had known you need a gun to walk down the damn street.
Craig Jones: You know how it is around here.
Mr. Jones: Oh, no, son, that's not the way it is. You kids today are nothin' but punks. Sissified. So quick to pick up a gun. You're scared to take an ass-whippin'.
[he holds up his fists]
Mr. Jones: This is what makes you a man. When I was growin' up, this was all the protection we needed. You win some, you lose some, but you live. You live to fight another day. And you think you're a man with that gun in your hand, don't you?
Craig Jones: I'm a man without it.
Mr. Jones: Put the gun down.
[Craig does so]
Mr. Jones: C'mon, put up your dukes.
[Craig raises his fists]
Mr. Jones: NOW you're a man. Your uncle picked up a gun too. He had to find out the hard way. 22 years old. YOU got a choice. This is all you need. All right?

Mrs. Jones: Craig, you know what your problem is? You have no game.
Craig Jones: What do you know about game? I got ALL the game.
Mrs. Jones: Now your father... he got game.
Mr. Jones: [coming out of the bathroom] Don't nobody go in the bathroom for about 35, 45 minutes. Somebody open up a window.
Craig Jones: You call that game?

Mr. Jones: Every time I come in the kitchen, you in the kitchen. In the goddamn refrigerator. Eatin' up all the food. All the chitlins... All the pigs' feet... All the collard greens... All the hog maws. I wanna eat them chitlins... I like pigs' feet.

Mr. Jones: [in toilet] Boy, bring your ass up in here. What you talkin' 'bout, you wait 'til I come out? I smelled your shit for 22 years, now you can smell mine for five minutes.

Mr. Jones: [Mr. Jones snoring and talking in his sleep] Give me the two piece special. Lots of hotsauce and all the fries you can give me. Thank you, thank you.

Craig Jones: I ain't trying to be no dog-catcher!
Mr. Jones: Why not?
Craig Jones: I don't even like dogs!
Mr. Jones: That's the beauty of it! I grab a dog, and I choke him, and I kick the shit out of him! All day long, my foot up a dog's ass! Just bang-bang-bang up his ass! That's my pleasure.
Craig Jones: No, thanks.
Mr. Jones: Well, I'll tell you one thing: round here, you go to work, you go to school. First of the month, the rent is due. If you ain't got nothin' on the table, you ain't gotta worry about catchin' a dog - You gotta worry about a dog catchin' YOUR ass!

Mr. Jones: Now when I went to bed last night. Didn't I tell you take out the trash?
Craig Jones: Yeah.
Mr. Jones: So, why didn't you do it?
Craig Jones: I fell asleep.
Mr. Jones: I wish you was sleeping right now, I knock you upside your head with a left hook make your ass wake up and take out that damn trash.
Craig Jones: [Craig goes to the trash can to dump out his cereal]
Mr. Jones: Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?
Craig Jones: I'm throwing this away. We ain't even got no milk.
Mr. Jones: You better put some water on that damn shit!
Craig Jones: Alright, I'll eat it.
Mr. Jones: Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Take the garbage out front son!