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Crooks Monologue Essay

Jus because I’m a nigger [examines luger shell from Carlson’s gun] they’d probably shoot me like Candy’s dog if it was as much fun as the scourge they put me through, [walks to window and leans against the frame] just because I’m a busted up ol’ nigger, [scowls and bites his bottom lip] no-one wants to talk with me or anything.

[Glares up into the stars and becomes furious] S’pose I weren’t, s’pose I was just like the rest of em, and that new fella, that big stupid bastard, s’pose he was the nigger. [Begins to calm] he’d stay in the stable all on his own, and I, I’d be In the bunk house, I could play cards and horseshoes with the guys and go into town ever Sat’day night, [begins to smile] we’d go to old Susy’s place and have a hella a time, I could spend my two bits, get some nice whisky, non of that watered down shit you get from Clara’s whore house, if I’m feelin real lucky, maybe, I could get me one of old Susy’s girls, they meant to be real clean [grins].

[He rubs his hard laboured fingers over his unshaven bristled cheek and pauses for a moment], I wouldn’t be left here alone whilst ever’ one else has someone to speak to, even the stupid one has got someone [grows angry again and snaps the curtains shut], always following the little guy about and always talkin about them stupid rabbits [mimics Lennie’s voice] “I could pet em and look after em, couldn’t I George?” the screwy bastard, he belongs in the booby house, who the hell he think he is?

[He gingerly moves to his bunk and sits’ on the edge rigidly] All because I’m the nigger on the farm, no one wants anything to do with me, just give me a beatin once ever’while. My ol’ man always used to tell me to keep away from these whites, ain’t nothing but trouble he’d say to me, and look at me now [he becomes sullen in mood], I wish I’d had listened to him, I could’ve made something of myself, I could’ve got myself a nice job, I could’ve been working in a nice big house, with a boss who treats me with some respect, maybe he’d let me drink some of his whisky ever’ once in a while, I might have even me myself a nice maid girl, not like that tart of Curley’s wife.

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