I never get mad, Mrs. Threadgoode. Never. The way I was raised it was bad manners. Well I got mad and it felt terrific. I felt like I could beat the shit out of all those punks. Excuse my language; just beat them to a pulp. Beat them until they begged for mercy. Towanda, the Avenger! And after I wipe out all the punks of this world I’ll take on the wife beaters, like Frank Bennett, and machine gun their genitals. Towanda on the rampage! I’ll put tiny little bombs in Penthouse and Playboy, so they’ll explode when you open them. And I’ll ban all fashion models who weigh less than 130 pounds. I’ll give half the military budget to people over 65 and declare wrinkles sexually desirable. Towanda: Righter of Wrongs, Queen Beyond Compare!
Fried Green Tomatoes Monologues
I had a dream the other night. I dreamt that Buddy was gone. I ran to his crib and there he was, sleeping like an angel. And you know, I thanked God for letting me still have Buddy. And I remembered having the same reaction after Frank would beat me, thanking the Lord for giving me the strength to take it. And I remembered thanking the Lord for each day that my mother lived. Even when she was spittin’ up blood and prayin’ for me to kill her. I looked into my mother’s eyes, pleadin’ for me to help her, and all I could do was pray. While, while you were gone, and I was holding Buddy, I thought, “If that bastard, Frank Bennett, ever tries to take my child, I won’t pray. I’ll break his neck.”