“You ain’t worth a greased jack-pin to ram you into hell.”
“Christ knows George done ever’thing he could to jack you outa the sewer, but it don’t do no good.”
“If you think George gonna let you tend rabbits, you’re even crazier’n usual. He ain’t.”
“He’s gonna beat hell outa you with a stick, that’s what he’s gonna do.”
Now Lennie retorted belligerently, “He ain’t neither. George won’t do nothing like that.”
“I’ve knew George since—I forget when—and he ain’t never raised his han’ to me with a stick.”
“He’s nice to me. He ain’t gonna be mean.” “Well, he’s sick of you,” said the rabbit.
“He’s gonna beat hell outa you an’ then go away an’ leave you.”
“He won’t,” Lennie cried frantically. “He won’t do nothing like that. I know George.”
“Me an’ him travels together.” But the rabbit repeated softly over and over,
“He gonna leave you, ya crazy bastard. He gonna leave ya all alone. He gonna leave ya, crazy bastard.”
Lennie put his hands over his ears. “He ain’t, I tell ya he ain’t.”
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