Sun Records

Previously on Sun Records.

Lookey here. Wow-wee.

Ike, you're a hell of a piano man.

But I ain't gonna jive you. You can't sing for crap.

I dream of making music like that someday.

Leonard Chess?

Yeah. I'm Leonard Chess. Who are you?

It doesn't matter who I am, it matters what I got.

This is a cash business.

Based on trust and our mutual desire to make you a star.

Can I trust you, Hank?

Damn straight. Okay.

Well, that's not good.

Call immediately if you hear from him.

What did he say?

Sam never showed.

Dewey figured he went on home.

Let's try the hospital again.

How much is that doggy in the window

Lucas, you best roll up that hose

before your bus gets here.

The one with the waggly tail

How much is that doggy in the window

I do hope that doggy is for sale

I read in the papers there are robbers

With flashlights that shine in the dark

My love needs a doggy to protect him

And scare them away with one bark

I don't want a bunny or a kitty

Morning.

Mom, there's a man in my swing set!

I don't want a bowl of little fishies

Morning, Nadine.

Are you all right, Sam?

Never better.

Here you go.

What kind of life is this, Marion?

I mean...

Me and Sam, we're broke.

I don't have much of a husband,

Knox doesn't have much of a father.

I know why I'm doing this.

I just can't really understand why you are.

Sam?

Oh, dear Lord.

Are you all right?

What in the world happened?

Well, uh, I tried taking a shortcut on the way home.

It didn't go so well.

I've got to get Knox up for school, so...

I sure could use a cup of joe myself.

Oh, Jimmy.

I surely don't believe

life will ever be the same again, cuz.

Oh, we need to avert our eyes from this, Jerry Lee.

So you've been saying for the past couple of hours now.

Only your eyes seem to have a mind of their own now,

don't they?

Whoo! Oh.

I wonder if Peggy looks like that.

Don't you dare talk about my girl like that.

Huh? Your girl?

Pretty sure it was me she was eyeing

after I dazzled her with my exquisite ivory tickling.

Only look that angel was giving you

was one of pity for your unsalvaged soul.

Well, why don't we let Peggy decide

who's right in this little difference of opinion?

Huh?

Jerry Lee, Jimmy, I need a lil' help!

Okay, Momma.

Fine. May the best man win.

Well, suits me, cuz, 'cause you know what?

I always do.

Ow.

Hey, sugar, got some more for you.

Oh, you are a godsend.

We sure can use the work.

Is everything okay?

Uh, fine, fine. How're you?

How's Sam?

This morning, he looked like something the cat dragged in

and the goat wouldn't eat.

Just a little mishap.

Now, Becky...

I'm not one to gossip.

But, I'm just saying

the paperboy told Gladys Twain from down the street that...

he saw Sam take his trousers off outside

for God and country to see.

And she told the widower Mr. Petty down at the garage

who told Betsy who can't keep her mouth shut...

Sam!

Sorry.

Always a pleasure to see you, Nadine.

Bless your heart, dear.

Where are you off to?

Got a session.

What?

Well, it's just 5:00 in the afternoon,

and my husband, who's now the talk of the town,

just woke up having been out all night

without letting me know where he was.

And after smashing the family car,

he just walks around like it's all la-di-da,

and then asks, "What?"

You know what, Becks,

I'm jammed up all day long with sessions.

Night time's the only time I got to find new acts.

I gotta go.

Sam...

I thought we came here

to build a stable recording business.

Commercials, testimonials, recitals...

And if you haven't noticed,

you've taken in half the neighborhood's sewing,

'cause the recording part ain't cutting it.

I... I thought Rocket 88 was the big hit we needed?

Huh. Yeah.

Turns out that drunk Brenston

ain't nothing but a damned one-hit wonder.

Look, I can't pay today's bills on yesterday's hits.

Sam.

I'm worried about you.

I made an appointment with a new doctor,

and I think that we...

Thanks for consulting me.

You're my wife, Becky.

Stop acting like my damn mother!

Well, you stop acting like a damn child!

Well, I don't need this.

I've got work to do!

Two Japs, out of ammo, rushed me with bayonets.

Time I was done,

you couldn't have matched up the pieces

to tell "chop" from "suey" if they paid you.

Uh, Mr. Dean, sir, may I please have a word?

Get out of here, boy.

You don't have a thing to say I wanna hear.

Sir? I'll be back.

You just cost me a sale. What do you want?

To apologize.

Look, I'm sorry if I did anything

to disrespect you or your family.

That wasn't my intention. What was your intention?

I just like the music is all.

You don't drink from colored water fountains, do you, boy?

Well, no, sir.

Well, you see my point?

You may be kissing my daughter

with those lips of yours someday.

It won't happen again, sir.

I care deeply about Trixie.

I'd never do anything to harm her.

I believe you.

And hell, boy,

can't have you climbing up my house every night.

You'll ruin the siding.

Get!

Hey, Trixie from Dixie.

Hey, you know, I talked to your daddy.

That so?

Oh, honey, everything is hunky dory.

And?

Well, he forgave me. Did he?

Well, maybe you two should go steady. Hmm.

Stop pestering her.

I tell you, Beau, this better be one hell of a bar.

Johnny boy, this ain't just any old bar. Come on.

Uh...

Why you here?

This Russian sector!

What the hell is he saying?

Well, I think he's saying we're in the Russian sector.

Well, we know that. We do?

Soon, all Russia.

All world Russian sector!

Hey, y'all would be goose-steppin' to Sieg Heil

if America hadn't come to save your sorry asses.

Well, lookie what we have here.

Can't you read a map? Italy's that way.

We got the commies, and we got the hillbillies.

They're telling us they gonna rule the world.

Is that so?

Da.

Hell of a choice.

On one hand, we have sorry excuses for American Gls.

And on the other...

Guys, let's get the hell out of here!

Hey, you left this vodka!

No wonder these Russkies are miserable bastards.

Their damn booze is made out of potatoes.

Oh, man, who cares if it's made out of dirty socks,

sure does the job.

What do you expect from a hick who drinks whiskey

made from corn?

Well, that ain't whiskey,

that'd be, uh, corn liquor.

Fraeulein.

Paesanos!