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: [after a bandmate complains of wearing sissy make-up
] Being pretty ain't never bothered me. Ain't that right, Lucille? Lucille
: 'Bout the prettiest boy I've ever seen. Little Richard
: Now, sneaking in the back doors so the white folks don't see us till we're on stage, eating in a parking lot of some restaurant that I wouldn't even pay to eat at the counter at, now *that* bothers me. Being called a sissy?
] Little Richard
: You look-a here! Them white kids, they're dancing to *our* music! Okay, they may have Pat Boone on their record player in case their parents walk in, but they got *my* record underneath their pillow. You know which show we're playing here? You know how many colors have played here? None! You know why? 'Cause they can't! I am the first! I am the only! So if you wanna call me a sissy, go ahead! Knock yourself out, boy! But you make sure you call me a rich sissy. And you do as I do, you all gonna be rich sissies, too. Now, where my eyeliner?
: [improvising on the piano
] A-wop-bop-a-loo-bop-a-good-hot-damn! Tutti frutti! Good booty! Tutti frutti! Good booty! Tutti frutti! Good booty! Tutti frutti! Good booty! If it don't fit, don't force it! If you grease it, make it easy! Bump Blackwell
: We have *got* to record that! Little Richard
: What? Bump Blackwell
: Yeah that! *That* is a hit! Little Richard
: You're kidding me. Bump Blackwell
: No, no, no, no, I mean, we gotta clean up the lyrics though. That's a... that's a definite. Dorothy, get in here! Little Richard
: But wait a second. Bump... Bump Blackwell
: This is gonna be...! Dorothy!
[Dorothy runs in
] Bump Blackwell
: C'mere! Quick! Get in here! Dorothy
: Yes? Bump Blackwell
: Okay look, Richard, Dorothy is a lyricist. Alright, I want you to sing that song to her. Dorothy, I need you to write me a clean version of it in a half hour. Okay? Dorothy
: Okay, okay. Little Richard
: [Embarrassed to have to sing a dirty song to a lady
] But Bump, that song has some terrible, terrible words! Bump Blackwell
: Oh trust me! She's heard it all. Dorothy
: It's true, I have.
: [grabs Zola as she enters backstage and kisses her
] Baby, you are one fine thing. Zola Taylor
: [slaps Frankie
] Young Little Richard
: Ooh! Ouch! You want me to get you some ice?