"Germany and England!" butts in the Kid, tearin' himself away. "Come on!" he tells me. "Let's get away from here," he glares at Van Ness and Tony, "before certain parties makes any more cracks! If they do—I'll make 'em look like models for The Dyin' Gladiator!"
"Don'ta minda heem!" whispers Genaro to Van Ness, as we get over to the door. "He'sa fina fel'. He'sa no hurta the bambino—what you call ba-bee. Gotta taka bag of the salts with everything he'sa say. Gotta lots temperament!"
"A ruffian, I should say!" remarks Van Ness loudly.
"Bigga bunka!" hisses Tony.
"What?" roars the Kid, swingin' around on them.
"Good day, sir!" pipes Van Ness, steppin' back of the desk.
"No spika da Engleesh!" says Tony, steppin' in back of his boss.
I yanked the Kid outside before violence was had by all.
Jason Van Ness stayed at Film City for about two months. Durin' that time he made as many friends as the ex-Kaiser would pick up in Paris. They was two reasons for this, the first bein' that he was the most dignified and solemn guy I ever seen in my life. Stories that would put a victim of lockjaw in hysterics couldn't coax a snicker from that undertaker's face of his which would have made a supreme court justice look like a clown. In fact, if he'd been a judge and I ever come up before him, I would have took one flash at that face and asked him to gimme life and let it go at that! His favorite smokin'-room story was what causes spots on the sun or somethin' equally excitin', and pretty soon they was a standin' offer of a hundred bucks to the first guy that could make Van Ness laugh!
Some of the greatest comedians the movies ever seen laid awake nights and become famous on stunts they pulled off for the sole benefit of Van Ness—and all he did was to inquire if they was crazy or soused!