Carnivàle (2003–2005): Season 2, Episode 10 - Cheyenne, WY - full transcript

2x10 - Cheyenne, WY

There's my buttercup.

- Can it, will you?
- What?

You're goggling at me.
You're giving me the creeping willies.

Sorry.

For Christ's sake!

I'm sorry. I just-- I'm sorry.

Where's the fire?

I got to get you two
back to the show.

Then what?

There's things I have to do.



I'm probably
too late as it is.

We mess you up?

It couldn't be helped.

It was the boy
Ben Hawkins.

He's the one
who took me from you.

What about Samson?

- Covered it up.
- I knew it!

I can read that little trout
like a book!

- I must leave.
- No!

Please stay.

Ah, my little clarinet.

In this body?

Hardly practical.

I don't care
what other people think.



Don't be a fool.

All that really counts in this world

is what others think of you.

Besides...

you'll be seeing me soon.

Like this?

No, my dear...

in the flesh.

Lodz?

Lodz!

Dear God,
what're you--

What am I doing here?

You were doing fine.

Now you're just...

leaving.

Wait here.

- I got to get going.
- Just a minute, okay?

I've got something for you.

Remember. Not a word.

You only told me
about 10 times.

So now it's 11.
What're you going to tell your ma?

We went off.
You got liquored up, in a fight.

You had been pinched
and we spent the night in the tank.

That's right.

Jesus, Clay.
Can't we go with something else?

She already thinks
you're a bum.

Good!
Let's keep it that way.

How you going to hide it
from the others?

I'm going with him.

What? Why?

I don't know.

It's just... something I have to do.

I'll go too.

No. You got to stay here
with the show.

Mama's going
to make it hard.

She's gonna tell everyone
you've left me cold.

Then she'll look like a damned fool
when I come back, won't she?

Will you?

What?

Come back.

Yeah.

I will.

Go home.

Hey. What're you doing?

I thought you said you had
something for me?

I do-- Me.

No, I don't need
any company.

Well, you got it.

We gonna sit here
all night?

Aw, hell.

Ah, jah, jah, I'm coming!

It's middle of the night.

Room?

We're looking for two men
traveling together.

One's got long white hair,

the other's a big fella, bald.

They might have checked in
the last 24 Hours.

What're you, cops?
G-men?

You think I want trouble,
is that what you think?

Ain't going
to make no trouble.

We just want to talk to them,
that's all.

I'm not a halfwit.
You cannot just come in here and snoop.

Okay, listen good.

This is not the Ritz,
it is fucking Cheyenne, Wyoming,

- do you understand me?
- We get that.

Three peoples check in
since yesterday.

The first one was a big,
huge, fat woman,

the size of a tank.

Sweating all the time,
disgusting.

Full of donuts.

And?

And...

two men
just like you say.

Wait.
I will take you there.

Cold tonight, jah?

Always too hot
or too cold around here.

Always too everything.

Nasty bald man requested
this bad number.

Very odd fellow, that one.

Hey, watch it with
that gat!

- You want you should kill somebody?
- Shut up.

Hello?

God damn their blood!

I had a feeling about
those two.

Lousy needle-jabbers!

I should have known
they was fucking chronics!

Yes?

I'm Varlyn Stroud.

- I got business with Brother Justin.
- Do you know what time it is?

Iris.

What's he doing here?

Upstairs.

Iris!

Where is he?

Hawkins, we been
all through this room!

Might help if you told me
what we're looking for!

I'll know it
when I see it.

Fine!

What?

Who is he?

Someone I gotta stop.

This is your prophet?

Scudder?

Henry?

It hardly seems worth it,
does it?

After all this time and trouble

and Mr. Stroud's valiant efforts...

To foul my hands with the blood
of this pathetic creature,

to receive the boon of an idiot...

But so be it.

You know I've never actually killed a man
with my own hands before.

It's fun.
You'll like it.

Shame this little piglet's too drugged up
to feel anything.

Drugged up?

Don't!

If he touches me again,
kill him!

No! Not now!

You will never get your boon!

You didn't tell me
this buffoon drugged him.

Brother Varlyn was
following my instructions.

You suggested we keep him
restrained.

Physically restrained,
not drugged.

His mind must be clear
during the passing.

If he is impaired
or delusional,

the result
would be disastrous.

How so?

Madness...

Or even death.

Let him go.

Let him go!

It appears we must wait
for the drugs to wear off.

My, oh my.

You're shaking like a pussy-willow
in a hurricane.

My, oh my.

I remember the first night
Felix came home nine hours late.

Said he stopped for some gypsies
outside of Tulsa.

Offered to help them round up
a pack of goats.

Then they supposedly jumped him
and took all his money.

I'm telling you the truth,
God's honest.

That's what he kept saying.
Can you imagine?

The very idea of your daddy stopping
to help somebody!

Come on now.

The truth ain't nothing
to be ashamed of.

What in hell
are you talking about?

You not the first little girl ever been
kissed and left flat by some slick mickey.

- That ain't what happened, god damn it!
- Then tell me what did happen.

He said he would come back as soon
as he made bail.

Sure he did. I know the man
we're dealing with here, remember?

- Intimately, I might add.
- Mother!

And he weren't that good
if you ask me.

Fuck you!

Least I got me a whole man!

You can't even hang onto a cripple
for more than a night or two!

* If you're happy and you know it,
clap your hands *

* If you're happy and you know it,
clap your hands *

* If you're happy and you know it *

* Then your face will surely show it... *

What's the matter,
slap-happy?

Is that too tight for you, hmm?

Let's see if we can make it tighter,
What do you say?

* If you're happy and you know it,
clap your hands. *

There.

There, that's better.

Now you be a good little piglet
and sober up

'cause Brother Jay

wants you all clear-minded

so's we can slaughter you up
proper.

Like father, like daughter--
natural-born liars.

I don't know how you put up
with it.

I suppose Jonesy is still
rolling in tar

and feathered up
like a sunday rooster?

Oh no, of course not.

That Hawkins boy, he's got the touch.

He laid his hands on
and healed him up just like that,

just like some kind
of hillbilly witch-doctor.

Well, isn't that
a rib tickler?

Hawkins a holy man,

what a riot.

The fact is,
Libby's been hitched all of four days

and she just can't keep the man.

I tried to be understanding
about it,

but she was having none of it.

Well, sugar,
at least you tried.

You're a good mother,
that's what counts.

I'm sorry!

Tell me about the passing.

The only way to...

receive the full measure
of the boon

is if it's freely granted

in sound mind
by the Prophet.

Scudder will never give me
what I want.

He would have no choice
if you took him by surprise.

But--

he's spent
his entire life running.

Given the depth
of his paranoia...

No.

You must take the boon by force.

At the risk
of madness or death.

Perhaps.

But if you hesitate, he may escape...

and then the boon
will be forever lost to you.

You'll remember your promise?

What promise?

You said I could have
a moment alone with him.

I said perhaps.

That's hardly a promise.

But I insist!

Oh, you insist.

But you said it yourself,

he's dangerous.

No.

I could never allow you
to take such a risk.

You're far too valuable to me, Wilfred.

You know that.

Your tea's getting cold.

Libby!

I've been looking for you.

Come on.
We need to talk.

Come inside.

In there?

Have a seat.

I witnessed a tarring myself
one time.

South Dakota.

Worst thing I ever seen.

She didn't waste no time
blabbering about it, did she?

She thinks you're crazy.

Don't you?

I know about Hawkins.

Not all about him, but...

enough.

I promised
I wouldn't say a word.

Then I had to go and open
my big fat mouth and spill it!

I'm just glad
you didn't get hurt.

It was Jonesy
who got it bad.

Burned all over.

Till Hawkins
brought him back.

Yeah, he did.

It was a miracle.

Well, you made a mistake,
telling your ma.

You shouldn't have done that.

I know. I promised Jonesy.

He'll be so angry
when he hears I let him down.

He'll hate me.

He don't have
to hear nothing about it.

Be our secret.

But you can't be telling
nobody else what you saw Ben do.

You understand?

So where are they now?

Ben was headed West
to some motel.

And Jonesy went with him.

I didn't want him to go.

I tried to stop him.

Now, it's going to be all right.

As soon as we get
a fix on them,

I'll make sure of that.

You can set
your watch by that.

Shit!

I'm sorry.

Oh, don't be.

Vulgarity is not a sin
against God,

but against
polite society.

And between you and me,

I don't give a shit
about polite society.

I never had much
use for it either.

But they can be most generous
with their contributions.

And so...

we are tolerant.

Have you seen Iris?

She's inside
with Reverend Balthus.

Thank you, Sofie.

Yes, I've noticed that too.

Strange, isn't it?

No! No, absolutely not.

I almost lost you!
I can't take that risk.

He won't be that lucky
the next time.

But we must work together.
That's the key.

It's the only way
we can stop him.

Justin.

Good morning, Iris.

Norman.

Oh, I don't mean
to intrude.

Oh, don't be silly.

Feeling better,
are we, Norman?

And you, Iris...

h?ow are you feeling today?

Fine, thank you.

I'm so glad.

It's turning into
a beautiful day.

Well...

I don't want to interrupt.

You two go right back
to catching up on things.

You be a good boy, Norman.

Yeah, yeah,
keep your pants on.

Are you Mr. Samson?

What's it to you?

This is for you.

Much obliged, Fritz.

Wait a minute.
What about my sawbuck?

What?

The boy said you would give me $10
when I put that fish-wrap in your hands.

That's a might steep, sport.

Hey, Fritz!

My name is not Fritz.
It is Klaus.

Yeah, yeah, Klaus...

When you said about the boy,

are you talking
about Ben Hawkins?

The boy, jah.

Come on back here.

Come on! Come on!

Don't be
so sensitive.

Pleasure doing business
with you--

Fritz!

Son of a bitch.

All right, people,
we're moving out!

Let's get
on the highball!

Let's shake some dust!

* What a friend we have in Jesus *

* All our sins and grief to bear *

* What a privilege to carry *

* All our love to God *

* In prayer. *

Miss Iris?

Yes?

I want to thank you--

and Brother Justin
for taking me in.

You have no idea
how much it means to me.

It's our pleasure, dear.

Sofie.

It's an unusual name.

Jewish?

Not that I know of.

My mother was roma.

I never knew my father.

Roma?

Gypsy.

Gypsy.
Who would've guessed?

Where did you grow up, Sofie?

Around.
Here and there.

Everywhere.

Where were you born?

St. Paul.

Minnesota.
Brother Justin and I loved St. Paul.

Tell me about your life.

There's not really
much to tell.

Everyone in New Canaan
has something in common.

Do you know what that is?

Brother Justin?

Yes.
That's part of it.

But I think what brings us together,

what bonds us
as a community,

is that everyone of us
at some point...

Has been discarded,

thrown away like scraps.

I know that you've been hurt
in the past, thrown away.

But you are
with God's people now.

You're safe here.

The past is the past.

Just like a bad dream.

My mother was
a fortune-teller.

And we traveled with a carnival
for most of my life.

A carnival?

But before that
we had a proper home,

- A little walk-up off Lexington.
- The tower, ruin...

We did readings there.

Your father?
Was he a gypsy?

No.

No, no, please.
I know you're a good person.

- Don't-- don't do this.
- I gave you a chance.

You hold still,
You gypsy bitch!

Iris!

Are you all right?

I upset you.

No.

No, dear.

It's just so hot.

So very hot.

And I have to get up to the house
to take care of some things.

Nobody in, nobody out.

Just since I been here, I seen a few fellas
I recognized from the pokey.

I reckon
there's more.

I've already put them
on the gates, the roads, shotguns.

Maybe you ought to give them
some kind of fancy name,

- you know, for esprit de corpse.
- How much longer?

- What's that?
- Scudder.

He ought to pretty much be dried out
by tonight.

Probably climbing
the walls right now.

You want
I should check on him?

After sunset.
Do you think you'll need help?

When have I ever needed help?

Come in.

Iris.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

You two haven't formally met yet,
have you?

Brother Varlyn Stroud, my sister Iris.

Pleased to meet you,
ma'am.

Brother Varlyn and I were just discussing
security concerns...

in light of the recent attempt
on my life.

I see.

I'll be taking real good care
of your brother, little lady.

- Is that a fact?
- Stone cold fact, yes, ma'am.

I'll be organizing
a group of volunteers.

The Knights of Jericho.

Well, isn't that catchy?

I take it you're well qualified,
Mr. Stroud?

Overqualified.

You have a resume?

A what?

Brother Varlyn has extensive experience
in matters of physical security.

So in other words,
he's a thug...

A first-class goon.

First class, that's me.

All the way.

I'm finished, Sofie.

Thank you.

Not hungry?

Not terribly.

You should eat.

Waste is a sin.

So is gluttony.

Did you really think
a dried-up old spinster

and a pathetic, delusional cripple
could harm me?

More lemonade?

Yes, I think we'd both like some,
wouldn't we, Iris?

Sofie.

You have been doing
a splendid job since you've joined us.

Wouldn't you agree?

Certainly.

In fact, I want you to take over
the care of Reverend Balthus.

Me?

Are you sure?

Yes.

Quite sure.

You'll be responsible
for his daily needs

and his general well-being.

It's all become a bit too taxing
for Iris.

Besides, she has
other duties to attend to.

Wait.

Don't leave.

Please, sit.

Join us for supper.

Thank you.

If you'll excuse me?

I have other duties
to attend to.

My, my, what a pretty sight.

What're you doing here?

I guess you're not taking care
of Balthus anymore.

Is eavesdropping part
of your job description, Mr. Stroud?

You ask me, there's nothing wrong
with that old boy a pillow couldn't fix.

- You're a very sensitive man, Mr. Stroud.
- I know it. And you...

You smell pretty good
for a woman your age.

- I'm not wearing perfume.
- Oh, I hate perfume.

I like the smell
of a woman.

You know, the one she has
no matter how many baths she takes,

no matter how many times
she tries to scrub the stink off of her.

- You disgust me.
- Do I?

Good.

- We got something in common.
- Let go of me.

There's one thing keeping
you from being happy.

- You don't know anything about me!
- You need to get rammed.

Hard.

Not a pansy fuck,
but a true blue banging.

Something to blow out the cobwebs.

Well now, Varlyn,

that wasn't very christian
of you, was it?

Henry?

It's Wilfred.

You remember me?

Henry...

I spoke with Bennington.

He says you have
the Sauniere manuscript.

Where is it?

Where?

It doesn't exist.

Now, now, Henry,

we both know that's a lie.

Do we?

I guess we do.

Very amusing, Henry.

Very amusing.

I hope you're still smiling

when the Usher begins tearing
your soul apart.

Go to hell.

No.

You go to hell!

Because you failed.

All those years
running and hiding,

all those years
you could've killed yourself...

But you didn't quite have the guts
to do it, did you, Henry?

Did you?

Here's what I'm going to do for you

in exchange
for your cooperation.

Tell me where
the manuscript is,

and I will bash
your fucking brains out right now.

That way,

you beat the Usher,

and keep your soul.

How about it, Henry?

Going once.

Going twice.

The priory.

Behind the sacristy.

Where?

Rennes-Le-Ch?teau.

Thank you, Henry.

Thank you.

Thank you!

Smith!

I kept my end.

Sorry, old chum,

but we all have to give
the devil his due.

You should know that
better than anyone.

Smith!

* If you're happy and you know it,
stomp your feet *

* If you're happy and you know-- *

Scudder?

Hey, why don't you go ask him
when we's gonna get paid?

We's volunteers.

We don't get paid, jackass.

I better go see
what he wants.

Evening, Mr. Stroud.
How are you?

Who the hell are you?

Open the gate.

Yes, sir, right away.

Open the gate!

Open the gate!

Come on!

I'm thirsty.
You want a drink?

No, I'm all right.

Get your fill?