Category: Accents and diction

Buck and Cody

Cody was on the lookout for excitement, not Buck’s burdensome plondering voice.

“You gotta focus, li’l buddy,” Buck said. He got this deep voice with long hollow vowels, a meandering drawl that made his voice easy to hear but hard to pay attention to, at least for someone like Cody. Cody was on the lookout for excitement, not Buck’s burdensome plondering voice. All Cody heard was a dull-edged no, and he ignored it.
Cody got a drawl too. They both growed up together, so they got the same accent. But Cody’s was brighter, quicker, sparkling, all consonants tumbling head over heels like a chaotic waterfall.

From Buck and Cody Locked Up Again

It proved Mister Chow don’t know nothing about black men. Or bwack men neither.

He poked out a line of incomprehensible syllables, and Steel and Lem nodded along like agreeable eggplants.

The rig bossman Mister Chow was half a dumpling high, but he shouted loud as soybeans, swear to God. He came rampaging like a Mongol into the corridor when a brawl went boom-a-boom-boom. Steel and Lem done throw down like a dogpound at some Haitian niggas, who got liquor they ain’t share. Lem proposed a transaction, and the Haitians was receptive, till the truck ‘tween them and he and him turnt truculent.

But only a paltry packa punches got dealt on both sides before Mister Chow chopsticked in like a miniature monsoon. He carried a cricket bat. “You bwack men-ooh you ooh-shoo choo-woo-moo-choo-” or some shit. Steel couldn’t understand Mister Chow when he wasn’t batting the butter outta Haitian booty and he damn sure ain’t catch a word now. He did pick up the oughty-notty that Mister Chow thought all the black men shouldn’t fight each other.
That had a certain logic to it, but it proved Mister Chow don’t know nothing about black men. Or bwack men neither.

Soon enough, Mister Chow arrived, furying up a storm of stewed plums. He jabbed his fat little fingers in the air, and he said buncha words that Steel ain’t quite catch — Mister Chow got one helluva Chinaman accent. He poked out a line of incomprehensible syllables, and Steel and Lem nodded along like agreeable eggplants.

From Steel the Roughneck

Hirrabirry

“Mistah Chow prolly mad as a steamed bun. Bap! Bap! Bap-bap-bappity-bap!”

“Hey, you on a broke-record, Buckums. Shut up, hillbilly. Hirrabirry.”
Finally Buck’s face softened and he laughed sheepish-like. Hirrabirry was how Mistah Chow said ‘hillbilly’, and it do make Buck laugh when he hear it. “Mistah Chow prolly mad as a steamed bun. Bap! Bap! Bap-bap-bappity-bap!”
“You is a hirrabirry, he right ’bout that, Buckums,” Lem said. “Mistah Chow tell it how it is.” He leggo Buck’s balls. “He tell it wit’ his Rs and his Ls mixed up, but othuh than that, he got yo’ hillbilly number.”

From Buck on the Oil Rig