Green Mile Monologue
|The Green Mile by Frank Darabont|
|Age (range):||18 - 55|
Burt: We had us a dog. No particular breed, but gentle. Ready to lick your hand or fetch a stick. Just a sweet mongrel, you know the kind. In many way, a good mongrel dog is like your negro. You get to know it, and often you get to love it. It is of no particular use, but you keep it around because you think it loves you. If you're lucky, Mr. Edgecomb, you never have to find out any different. My wife and I were not so lucky. Caleb? Come here for a second. Please, son. He has the one eye. I suppose he's lucky not to be blind. We get down on our knees and thank God for that much at least. Right Caleb? Okay, go on in now. That dog attacked my boy for no reason. Just got it into his mind one day. Same with John Coffey. He was sorry afterwards, of that I have no doubt. But those little girls stayed raped and murdered nonetheless. Maybe he's never done it before--my dog never bit before, but I didn't concern myself with that. I went out there with my rifle and grabbed his collar and blew his brains out.