Seeking the Lines of Crosstalk "One-liners"

One-liners (traditional cross talk) (Chen Zizhen, Kuang Quan)

Let's go!

B: Come on.

A: Let's have a stereo.

B: Speaking of cross talk, you should have a clever tongue.

You are far from being clear.

You are far from being clear.

No, you are worse. Let me tell you something, Mr. x ...

Yo, why are you so rude?

A: I don't like talking big. I'm just talking to you with my mouth half closed.

B: I'm telling you, I'm bullying you by covering my mouth halfway. Even if I plug my nose, I can still push you around.

A: Tell a joke, you are blowing fire with a rolling pin-you know nothing, my brother's grandfather.

B: To tell you a joke, you are Toka's son, thanks to my great-grandfather Beidou.

You're such a pain in the ass-you look so shallow, my great-grandfather.

B: You are an old monk who looks after the dowry-my great-grandfather. See you in the afterlife.

A: You paid the money in June-it's still half a year, my great-grandfather.

B: Then you can post money on the 26th of the twelfth lunar month. If you don't post, you won't have time to post! Great grandfather.

A: You, if you can't say it, don't say it. Why did you walk to the door with a cigarette in your mouth-did you pull it out? Great grandfather.

B: In this case, you jumped out of the door with a cigarette in your mouth-you brought it in, my wife. ...

Ah, madam?

Ah, grandpa.

A: Tell a joke, you bathe in a jealous jar-it's a bit too much, my great-grandfather.

B: Then take a bath in the bathhouse-you can't take a bath without money. My elder sister: Hey, madam, no, grandpa.

A: Well, it's full of words. You're kidding. It was dung beetles who dropped a pancake and burned it-he was numb, great-grandfather.

B: You, it's dung beetles-you stink, Grandpa.

A: You are dung beetles for the New Year-not bad, Grandpa.

B: You dung beetles went into the garden-not the bugs here: my wife, hey, boy!

Another boy?

It is a boy.

A: You, it's dung beetles who sneezes-you're full of shit, my boy.

B: You, dung beetles ... Boy!

A: What?

B: ... I don't remember. ...

You are a bamboo climber, dung beetles-you are preoccupied with festivals, my child.

You, dung beetles eat dung beetles. ...

A: What?

You're a little hungry! Boy.

A: It seems that you are a climber in Wu Dalang-you can't reach up and down, boy.

B: You, Wu Dalang rules the world-nobody protects you, boy.

A: You are Wu Dalang flying a kite-not so good, boy.

B: Boy, you sell cotton in Wu Dalang.

A: You can't say Wu Dalang. Wu Dalang has plenty.

B: Speaking of Wu Dalang, you are far from it. There are more than 1000 species in Wu Dalang alone. Can you do it?

A: So ... I can recite it.

B: You can recite it and I can write it from memory.

A: You have to listen to me, Wu Dalang. You are the head of Wu Dalang-not an illegitimate child, my child.

B: It's ...

A: You are Wu Dalang's eyes-not a turtle, my child.

B: That, that. ...

A: You are the backbone of Wu Dalang-not a turtle, boy.

so what ...

A: You work for Wu Dalang-not a son of a bitch, boy.

B: It's ...

A: You are Wu Dalang's foot-not an asshole, boy. All right, I'll give it to you. Tell me!

B: ... I really didn't.

A: Is it gone?

In that case, I see.

A: What do you know?

B: You are Wu Dalang's son-you bastard!

A: Me! Okay, okay, okay, keep coming.

B: Come on.

A: I think you are a fish in a small river-not a big fish: fish, son.

B: Then you are a big armor: the fish pulled out its claws-not a copper brazier, boy.

You are a baked wheat cake in the stove, not a sea crab, son.

B: Then you are a sea crab pulling its paws-not a baked wheat cake, boy.

A: Then you are the angel of mung bean-not the earth group, boy.

B: You're a clay group with claws pulled out, not mung beans, boy.

You are a puppy, not a dead bug, son.

You are a dead bug-not buckwheat husk, boy.

Sesame claw-you're not a big louse, son.

A louse pulls its paw-you are not a big sesame seed, son.

A: You, this is called bullying. To tell you a joke, you are the decoration of the North Sea-not the Little White Pagoda, my child.

B: Here we go again. You, this is a little white tower-this is not a twist, boy.

A: You are a wooden pole in the White Tower-not a big awl, boy.

B: You are a tight rope on the white tower-not a big incense tray, boy.

A: You, dig a hole in the white pagoda-it's not a big steamed bun, boy.

B: You ... Baita, Baita, in Beihai! Boy!

What is this? It's not good. You, that's a white tower split in half-not a curved ladle! Boy.

B: If you say that, you'll split the white tower in half-boy, it's not a big piece of pickled radish.

A: You, pull the bait for six and a half-it's not that big tuberose, son.

B: You pulled the Baita into sixteen and a half pieces-it's not beef jerky, boy.

A: You, chop the white tower into mud-you can't fry meatballs!

B: Don't be scolded!