Speaking of SNL, they did a “Mr. Mike” version of Uncle Remus....
Mr. Mike: [ outside ] I’ll just be a minute, driver.. [ hear door close, as he enters the log cabin ] Hey, Uncle Remus, how are you? Good to see you.
Uncle Remus: I’se mighty hpapy to make yo’ acquaintance, Mr. Mike. Y’all come in an’ make yo’self to home.
Mr. Mike: Here? Not likely. [ sits down ] Listen, I just dropped by to tell you one of my Least-Loved Bedtime Tales. It’s about your old buddy, Brer Rabbit.
Uncle Remus: Brer Rabbit? Why, ah loves dat floppy-eared rascal, Mr. Mike! An’ if ah knows Brer Rabbit, he’s a-cookin’ up some devilment, ain’t he?
Mr. Mike: He sure is, Uncle Remus. He’s off to trick somebody out of their chickens or something - God knows what - going down the road, hppity-hoppity, hippity-hoppity..
Uncle Remus: An’, an’ den he sees dis here Tarbaby, right, Mr. Mike? An’ Brer Rabbit, dat ole scalywag.. he done up an’ wallop him one an’ gits hisself all stuck in de tar, an’ den..
Mr. Mike: Excuse me. Excuse me, Uncle Remus. There is no Tarbaby. In my story, the Tarbaby was used to repair a pothole. No, you see, Brer Rabbit is going down the road, hippity-hoppity, hippity-hoppity, when he’s caught by Brer Fox and Brer Bear.
Uncle Remus: Oh, ah knows, Mr. Mike. An’ den they threaten to skin him alive but dat ole crafty rabbit, he say: “Skin me alive; do anything you want, but don’t throw me in de briar patch!” So dey throws him in de briar patch an’ he gits away! [ laughs ]
Mr. Mike: No, not quite, Uncle Remus. In my story, they respect his wishes and skin him alive. I mean, it’s all very amusing to talk about being skinned alive in some children’s book, but can you imagine it actually going down? Toward the end, when they were cutting the ears away from the side of the skull, he was screaming: “Throw me in the briar patchl throw me in the molten glass furnace; anything but this!”
Uncle Remus: Oh, dat’s just terrible, Mr. Mike. An’ den what happen?
Mr. Mike: He died and they ate him.
Uncle Remus: Dey ate Brer Rabbit?!! Oh, Lawdy!
Mr. Mike: Yeah, and sold his feet for lucky charms. The end.
Uncle Remus: “De end?!” But, but, Mr. Mike, what am de moral of your fable?
Mr. Mike: There’s no moral, Uncle Remus, just random acts of meaningless violence.
Uncle Remus: Ah doan think I likes dat. Ah doan thinks ah likes dat one bit.
Mr. Mike: [ getting up to leave ] Oh, by the way, I found this dead bluebird outside your shack. [ holds up bloody and decomposed dead bluebird ]
Uncle Remus: Why, Mr. Mike, it’s de bluebird of happiness!
Mr. Mike: Yeah, and from the looks of it, it’s been there two or three weeks. Put that on your shoulder, pal. [ puts dead bluebird on Uncle Remus’ shoulder, then exits the log cabin. Hear sound of car door opening. ] Regine’s, and step on it.
[ hear door closing and car driving away, as Uncle Remus stares despondently at the bluebird ]
[ Music Out: “Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah” ]
[ fade ]
Ah! Thanks, I remember Mr Mike but not that bit. He wrote the song Let’s Talk Dirty to the Animals that starts off the film Gilda Live.
Mr Mike. What a sad lost pathetic person.