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[Regarding The Bandit in a hammock
] Big Enos
: You see son, old legends never die. They just lose weight. Little Enos
: I guess a legend and an out-of-work bum look a lot a like, daddy.
: Cledus, get the money. Cledus Snow
: Yeah, how 'bout the money? Little Enos
: How 'bout double or nothin'? Cledus Snow
: How 'bout forgettin' it? Bandit
: Wait a minute. What about double or nothin'? Little Enos
: You run up to Boston, and bring back some clam chowder for me and my daddy. Carrie
: You're on. Bandit
: Uh, you're on. Big Enos
: In 18 hours? Bandit
: You're still on. Cledus Snow
: WHAT? You're *crazy*! And I'm *divorced*!
: Twenty to one I break the son of a bitch this time. Little Enos
: Gimme five-hundred on the Bandit.
: Any fool who would paint his truck like this would show up at a minister's funeral dressed in feathers.
: [Looking at Bandit's truck
] Egotistical son of a bitch. Big Enos
: Any cat who would paint his truck like this would go to a minister's funeral dressed in feathers.
: Daddy, we just walked past a Penicillin dispenser. Big Enos Burdette
: I feel like the guest of honor at a crab's convention.