This is most ignominious.

I'd love to turn off your engine, Mr. Pinkney.

You ain't going no place.

What shall we do with him, Granny?

Don't know yet, but I'll figure something.

Well, figure fast, will you?

This car's getting a mighty heavy.

As a punishment for my attempted escape, Granny put me to work making moonbeams.

Making moonbeams?

Moonlight.

Boonshine?

Yes, that's it.

An ingenious distillation apparatus.

Something called a still.

Well, how did you get away?

Well, my guard, a large hound by the name of Duke, became intoxicated by inhaling the fumes.

While the brown hound slept soundly on the ground, I escaped.

Hey, Jethro, how about taking me riding in Mr. Pinkney's car?

Can't, Ellie.

Granny says no driving in the house.