i'm doin everybody i can, where you been? where's the whiskey?
here ye go. get ye a drink, bud.
what is it?
early times. best little old drink in the world. get ye a drink, sut.
suttree held it to the light. small twigs, debris, matter, coiled in the oily liquid. he shook it. smoke rose from the yellow floor of the bottle.
shit almighty, he said.
best little old drink in the world, sang out j-bone. have a drink, bud.
goddamn. what is this shit?
early times, called j-bone. best little old drink they is. drink that and you wont feel a thing the next mornin.
or any morning.
whoo lord, give it here. hello early, come to your old daddy.
here, pour some of it in this cup and let me cut it with coca-cola.
can't do it, bud.
we done tried it. it eats the bottom out.
watch it suttree. don't spill none on your shoes.
lord honey i know they make that old splo in the bathtub but this here is made in the toilet. he was looking at the bottle, shaking it. bubbles the size of gooseshot veered greasily up through the smoky fuel it held.
the last time i drank some of that shit i like to died. i stunk from the inside out. i laid in a tub of hot water all day and climbed out and dried and you could still smell it. i had to burn my clothes.
early times, he called. make your liver quiver.
cormac mccarthy, suttree
1950's map of downtown knoxville from this site