 All right, now, wait a minute, Jackson. Why don't you stop picking on my tune? Because I'm sick of it, and I'm not the only one. Every time you and your boy sing it, Frankie Remley just sits there with his mouth shut. Look, Dad, if you left the South under the same conditions Remley did, you wouldn't sing about it either. You mean... Yep, Frankie had more feathers on him than the wild goose. No kidding. Well, Jackson, I can't make you laugh any longer. Alice has got the power to get you...