You look like you’re in Mummenschanz.
“Suck my Mummenschanz.”
But you sound like you’re you.
“I pushed Wynton Marsalis down the stairs four times. Spaced that shit out, too. Didn’t do it all in one month. Took years. I might push that motherfucker down the stairs tomorrow. His brother, too. And his father aint shit. Whole family makes me angry.”
Why is this, Mr. Davis?
“No respect. Man says nasty things.”
“Me. Bird. All the motherfuckers he stole all his licks from. Rude young man. Headbutted Art Blakey.”
I haven’t heard that story.
“No story. Little motherfucker walked up to Art and headbutted him.”
Where was this?
“Well, Wynton was there, so it was probably some white thing. White people love that smiling motherfucker. Doesn’t scare them. Talks real nice. I don’t understand that shit. Most the time, the only fun you get as a black man in America is scaring white people. Pushing motherfuckers down stairs is fun, too.”
I guess. Can we switch topics?
Mr. Davis, do you have any dating advice for the Enthusiasts?
“You’re looking for my moves?”
“Yeah, okay. First, you find you a bitch.”
“Then, you tell that bitch ‘I’m Miles Davis.'”
“Then, you ask her, ‘Bitch, you wash your pussy today?'”
“If she says no, then you only allow to her to suck on you.”
“And then, she gives you money.”
Do you have any dating tips for a normal human being?
“Hey, Miles. We got an extra seat, man.”
“Fuck kinda hat is that? You lose a bet, motherfucker?”
“It’s my vacation hat, man. You wanna come or not?”
“Where you going?”
“Lemme get my bathing suit.”
“What, man? I’m on vacation.”
Do you have any dating tips for the Enthusiasts?
“Sure, man. First, you find a chick.”
“Then, you have Parish make sure she knows you’re a rock star.”
No more advice.
“Hey, Miles! You coming!?”
“Don’t hurry me, you fat Mexican motherfucker.”
You two have fun.