The Carpenter's Complain
Storyboard Text
- Bredda yuh know seh mi fadda dead. Mi juss a come from dung a spain hospital.
- WAH? A lie ya tell! How him dead?
- Anuh lie. Heart attack ketch him and a from long time him liver a fail cus him won't stop drink.
- But jezaam. Dis cya real... Ya plan fi bury him doe?
- Yeah man. Mia guh give Mr. Belnavis di wuk cus mi want him fi have a nice coffin, yuh zimi?
- Mhmm mi get yuh man, do whatever, chargie.
- Now you think that is right, sah ? Talk the truth.The man was mi friend. I build it, I build the house that him live in; but now that him dead, that mawga-foot bwoy, him son, come say, him want a nice job for the coffin.
- Sum nuh right.
- So him give it to Mister Belnavis to make -That big-belly crook who don't know him arse from a chisel, but because him is big-shot, because him make big-shot coffin, fi-him coffin must better than mine! Bwoy it hot me, it hot me.
- No sah..
- Why da man yere a spread him whol business inna mi place? Chro!
- A wah ya seh to mi?
- For true. Fix we a nex' one, Miss Fergie - That man coulda knock back him waters, you know sah! I remember the day in this said-same bar when him drink Old Brown and Coxs'n into the ground, then stand up straight as a plumb line.
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