Road to Morocco

This is the screwiest picture I was ever in.

Road to Morocco, CC BY-SA 4.0

Jeff Peters: Say fuzzy, who is that headstrong impetuous boy? Bystander: He is Mullay Kasim, the Desert Sheik. Turkey Jackson: What'd he come to town for, a manicure? Bystander: Oh, he loves the Princess Shalmar of Karameesh. He has come here to ask her to marry him. Jeff Peters: I'd hate to be around when he comes for a divorce!

Road to Morocco, CC BY-SA 4.0

Turkey Jackson: A fine thing. First, you sell me for two hundred bucks. Then I'm gonna marry the Princess; then you cut in on me. Then we're carried off by a desert sheik. Now, we're gonna have our heads chopped off. Jeff Peters: I know all that. Turkey Jackson: Yeah, but the people who came in the middle of the picture don't. Jeff Peters: You mean they missed my song?

Road to Morocco, CC BY-SA 4.0

Turkey Jackson: I hope she didn't hear that. The dead have a way of coming back you know. Jeff Peters: Get out, when they're dead they're dead. Turkey Jackson: Not Aunt Lucy, she was a Republican.

Road to Morocco, CC BY-SA 4.0

Jeff Peters: We must storm the place. Turkey Jackson: You storm. I'll stay here and drizzle.

Road to Morocco, CC BY-SA 4.0

Turkey Jackson: Aunt Lucy. I can see her now, lying on her dying bed, looking at you with those big, trusting eyes. 'Before I go, Jeff, promise me one thing,' she said. 'Promise me you'll always be a friend to little Orville,' she said. 'No matter what happens, you'll never leave the little jerk,' she said. 'Promise me, Jeff, promise me,' she said. Jeff Peters: Yeah, then she up and died before I had the chance to say no.

Road to Morocco, CC BY-SA 4.0