Open Features: Roscoe The Midget
Randal Looney sets his quirky tale of Roscoe the street dancer in in New Orleans. Tune in to some genuine Deep South dialect.
"I used to know this midget that wudn't too sharp, name of Roscoe that lived with me for a while down in New Orleans just off-a the Franch Coder. He was a street daincer.
Ol' Roscoe would wake up and drink a 40 oz Bull ever day about 7o'clock in the morning and nen head down to the Franch Coder and daince in a top hat and tails. He wore a bow tie and had dis little Mexican dog name of Peaches that went with him.
Peaches was purty nervous. Roscoe'd do his daince and Peaches would just lay in 'is bed and shiver. People would put they money in Peaches-es bed and nen Roscoe'd go buy 'im a Hurricane in summer or some chickory coffee in winter.
Well ol' Roscoe finally got too bad on the Bull and quit-a daincin'. Not too long after that, Roscoe got mad at Peaches one time because Roscoe come home drunk one night after a-hangin' out with the other bums and surprised Peaches. He jumped up and bit Roscoe in the balls. Well Roscoe just seen red and stomped ol' Peaches.
Purty much nothin' left of Peaches after that. Roscoe stayed drunk for a week a-cryin' after 'im.
Well, not long after ol' Peaches got stomped and died, ol' Roscoe froze to death after he got hung up in the cooler of the A&P when he went to steal a case of Bull on a Friday night, and they didn't find him 'til Monday afternoon. Kindly hard to notice a black midget in there with all them boxes and shadows, I guess.
Anyhow, I know'd the ol' boy 'at worked at the A&P that used to give me free out-of-date lettuce, and he called me up and told me ol' Roscoe was down there froze. I went down and got Roscoe. The ol' boy asked if I wanted paper or plastic to put 'im in, and told 'im, "Both."
Anyhow, I brought Roscoe up to my apartment and tried to taw 'im out with a hair dryer cause I done seen a show about dis caveman that come back to life when they thawed 'im out on accident. Well after about three or four hours of a-running that hair dryer on 'im, ol' Roscoe done woke up and said, "God-damn! Where's the matches?." Them was ol' Roscoe's last words.
After that I never could get 'im to say nuthin' else. I kept 'im up there in my apartment 'til he turnt into a skeleton. He never did smell too much worsen a dead rat while he was dryin' up, and anyhow he smelt purty bad when he was alive.
I bought this book on how to be a puppetmaster and studied real hard on how to make a string puppet, and I made one outta ol' Roscoe after he turnt into a skeleton . After ol' Peaches died, ol' Roscoe used to sleep in Peaches-es bed, and the bed was still at my apartment, so I took Roscoe and the bed down to the Franch Coder one day in April and started ol' Roscoe out a-daincin' again, and peoples went to puttin' money in Peaches-es bed again.
Me and Roscoe's still purty close. Most mornin's we sit outside of Cafe Du Monde a-drinkin' coffee and a- talkin' about how cold that beer cooler was down at the A&P when Roscoe done froze and then we'll walk down Bourbon about dark and toast Peaches with a Hurricane."
