Deadwood (2004–2006): Season 1, Episode 3 - Reconnoitering the Rim - full transcript

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Ellsworth:
He's down that hole for a fact.

Pitiful as you pursued it,

you better hope
he ain't got space enough

to roll around holding his sides,
bust a gut laughing.

Tell all the other woodchucks
at the club this afternoon.

He might not even call it an escape.

Might just call it
his "morning's entertainment."

Dan:
Hey! Hey, Ellsworth!

Hey, Dan Dority!

(whimpers)



Where's the great prospector?

I guess Brom slept in this morning.

Suppose his enthusiasm's
on the wane?

That's always possible.

He shows up,
you tell him I quit waitin'.

- Sure will.
- See ya at The Gem.

Always possible.

(yells)
Go on!

Reverend: "The earth is the Lord's,
and the fullness thereof;

the world, and they that dwell therein.

For He hath founded it upon the seas,

and established it upon the floods.

Who shall ascend
into the hill of the Lord?"

- (sneezing)
- "Or who shall stand in His holy place?



He that hath clean hands,
and a pure heart;

who hath not lifted up his soul

- unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully."
- (sneezes)

"He shall receive
the blessing from the Lord,

and justice from the God
of his salvation.

Lift up your heads, O ye gates;

and be ye lifted up,
ye everlasting doors;

and the King of glory shall come in.

Who is the King of glory?

The Lord of Hosts,
He is the King of Glory.

Selah."

(man yells) Let me see them titties!
What's your name?

What's your name?

(men hooting)

Pull that sign a little to the right.

No no no. That way, that way.

(whispers)

"Everyone proud in heart
is an abomination to the Lord.

Though hand join in hand,
he shall not be unpunished."

(sneezing)

"By mercy and truth is inequity purged.

And by the fear of the Lord,
do men depart from evil.

A man's ways please the Lord

when he maketh even his enemies
to be at peace with him."

Amen.

Amen.

Thank you.
Thanks for your help.

May we edify
my readers, Mr. Bullock?

I don't know what "edify" means.

Can we talk about
last night's gunfight?

No.

We can't talk about last night's
gunfight either.

- What the fuck?!
- EB: All's I can speculate, Al,

is whoever these
Bella Union people are,

they bought
Artie Simpson's place on the quiet.

- Pre-arranged turnin' it into a joint.
- This no-good fucking Judas!

- Hey, fucknut!
- Just take it easy, Al.

How long you been hatching this?

I made a practical
goddamn business decision.

No chance for me to match
their fucking offer?

You couldn't have. You'd have
killed me before you'd matched.

But it's between you and them now.

Drive careful, cocksucker!

Don't think I haven't
taken precaution.

Don't think I don't know your mind!

I hate to press you
on that lot, Mr. Swearengen.

I ain't ready to settle yet.

- We're anxious to build.
- If you want an answer now, it's no.

Two.

Same for me, only better.

And three to the dealer.
The dealer draws...

trench mouth.
Opener bets.

Well damn, Wild Bill.

Even a stopped clock's
gotta be right sometime.

Common law just says you gonna
win one sooner or later.

But I'm gonna keep
pushin' my luck.

What do you got there? $8.

Are you ready to stand any more
credit to Wild Bill, Tom?

I didn't hear him ask for any.

You want me to just bet eight, Bill?

Cover my call.

Aw, Bill, I can't
let you put your gun up.

That Colt's worth more than
my raise by a good 40 bucks.

- Are you takin' the bet?
- I tell you what,

I'll add 40 bucks to my raise
to make the bet fair.

And then 50 more,

if you'll put up a set.

(laughs)

Pot's right.

Would a nine-high straight
do the trick?

Pot to the club flush.

Well, that's one in a row
for you, Wild Bill.

Who's hungry?

What in the hell damn time
is it anyway?

Sure you wanna
quit playing, Jack?

The game's always between you
and getting called a cunt.

Meeting's adjourned, fellas.
Take it outside.

That dropped eye of yours looks like
the hood on a cunt to me, Jack.

When you talk, your mouth
looks like a cunt moving.

I ain't gonna get
in no gunfight with you, Hickok.

But you will run
your cunt mouth at me...

and I will take it to play poker.

Tom:
I'll tote up accounts, Mr. Hickok.

We'll do whatever business
we need to next you're in.

Anyone wants to
can find me at the Grand Central.

- Jane: She's warm, isn't she?
- Charlie: She ain't talk yet, neither.

That's beside the point.
You shut up!

She will get a fever,
bein' wolf bit.

The reason we risked
bringin' her into camp.

You don't need to fear
the saloonkeeper.

- He's not a danger to her no more.
- He's not?

Saloonkeeper worried
that the little one

said road agents killed her people--

who the road agents
might say they worked for.

Meaning him?

He took a different
approach to the problem.

She would do better indoors.

I told Jane she could take
my room with the little one

and I'd move back in with Bill.

I will not stay in no fuckin' hotel!
They won't give me a room!

You two keep your voices down.

What'd I say about noise?

He snores the whole fuckin' night!

Snoring's past a person's control.

I was a field nurse during the war,
at Shiloh and Second Manassas.

That was a good deal of violence.

Is that when you got your calling?

Yes, it was, sir.
Out of that crucible--

out of all that horror,
to come to God's grace.

A man's heart deviseth his way,

but the Lord directeth his steps.

He directeth all our steps,
Mr. Bullock. All of us.

If you're preaching at me, Reverend,

you need to put some more
light on the text.

If I am preaching at you, sir,
I do you a disservice.

Good morning, Mr. Star.

Good morning, Reverend.

Seth: Did we get the lot?
Can we start building?

- The reverend's come to help.
- We're still hangin' fire.

- What's the damn holdup?
- New gambling outfit come into town.

- Time wasn't right to push him.
- I got all the lumber cut.

- And I warned you that was premature.
- You said 98%

after your last conversation
with that son of a bitch.

98 is not 100.

God damn it!

- Good day, sirs.
- Sol: Good day, Reverend.

Jane:
I said they'd find a way to stop me.

If it's raising room rates,
you have to go ahead and raise 'em.

Rates aren't the only factor.
There's a waiting list for occupancy.

You undertaker-looking
son of a bitch,

this little girl's doctor
ordered her to live indoors,

and I'm assigned
to change her dressings!

A sad story...
that's none of my affair, "madam,"

if I guess your sex correct.

What's the problem, innkeeper?

Mr. Hickok.

Little one took fever
in that wagon last night, Bill.

And I thought Jane and her
could stay in my room

and I'd move back in with you.

EB: I'm not in opposition, sir.
Just the opposite.

Who wouldn't want
to accommodate a sick girl?

But the Simpson Hotel's
closed its doors.

If Mr. Utter's vacating,

shouldn't these people that have been
trying me all morning get first call?

Isn’t that simple fairness?

He don't give fuck all for fairness!
He just don't want me in here.

How 'bout if he stays in his room
and the lady moves in with me?

That way no one's vacating nothing.

That would outflank
the checkout issue.

But it might raise
questions of decorum.

- With who?
- No one of consequence, I suppose.

Let her in.

I'm going to get some breakfast.

There will be a rate adjustment!

Good morning.

I've heard the stories, madam,
I tell you that at flagfall

you are here on sufferance.

Kiss my ass!

Cocksuckers.

Where were they
when Dan and me were

chopping trees in this gulch?

Hands all blistered,

bucktooth fucking beavers
rolling around in the creek,

slapping their tails in the water
like we was hired entertainment.

I'd have paid a nickel
to see you chopping wood.

Yeah. Don't think I wasn't
blow for blow with Dan.

I can play that shit when I have to.

But I've been to Chicago too.

How do I look?

Like Christ crucified.

Al:
Guess this ain't a hotel no more.

Come see us tonight when we open,

we'll find you a place to lay down.

And someone to keep
your feet warm.

I'm Al Swearengen.
I own the joint across the street.

- Man: The Gem?
- That's it.

Cy Tolliver, Al.

Ed Sawyer, Joanie Stubbs.

You people must've
trained with the heathens.

Yeah, you know, you come up
on us unbeknownst.

How long you been in camp, Al?

This year, Cy, since March.
I was here last year too,

- but the fucking cavalry drove us out.
- Put all the whites out, didn't they?

Deep fucking thinkers in Washington
put forward that policy.

This year though, so many
soldiers deserting to prospect,

gave up the ghost, let us all back in.

And of course,
Custer sorted out the Sioux for us,

so now we're all as safe
as at our mothers' tits.

Did a job for our side,
didn't he, Al?

Al: How about that long-haired
fucking blowhard, huh?

I'll tell you this, son,
you can mark my words,

Crazy Horse went into Little Bighorn,

bought his people one good,
long-term ass fucking.

You do not want to be
a dirt-worshipping heathen

from this fucking point forward.

- Pardon my French.
- Oh, I speak French.

Well, here we are,
settling the world's problems.

And I've been wondering, Cy,
um, perhaps we should

talk about our areas of overlap
so we're not at each other's throats.

- Give me a for instance, Al.
- Uh, women.

Would we want to agree on rates?

Well, far as pussy, Al, we'll want
to let the market sort itself out.

Sounds to me like I'm up
against specialty acts.

How about table games,
any overlap there?

We'll be featuring craps, Al.

I played that in Chicago.
I don't offer it myself,

gets these hoople-heads
confused, hmm?

That's one area of overlap avoided.

- What about faro?
- We'll have it.

Al: That decision hard and fast?

Cy: I don't see overlap being a problem,
Al, even where we duplicate.

We're offering
different atmospheres.

You're a pioneering type,
a trailblazer type.

You're gonna draw
a trailblazing element.

Meaning I get the ones
that don't wash?

Must cut through the stink when they
walk in with those sacks full of gold.

Oh, the money spends, definitely.

Anyways, thanks for
the neighborly visit.

Yeah, good to meet you.
Very good luck to you.

You're opening at 8:00, huh?

That's what we're aiming at.

8:00.

Good for you.

Wouldn't set a fire right away.

Come to case us though.

He would set a fire.

The way you tell it, mister,

the man didn't sell you that claim
holding a gun to your head.

Frankly, Mr. Hickok,

being a novice in these matters,
I was duped.

And now the seller's disappeared.
You checked into his room.

It sound like you're up shit's creek.

The seller had accomplices, gentlemen.

Men of-- what passes
for position in this place.

I would pay a handsome bounty if they
were brought to make restitutions.

Sorry you lost your money, mister,

but I ain't for hire to rob it back.

I make no terms as to method.

You don't figure a good talking-to
would do the trick?

I'm not leaving camp

without my money.

Mister, that fella you said
had my room before me?

A man named Tim Driscoll,
yes, pure charlatan.

Fresh stain on the floor
when I moved in.

He may have checked out
short a useful amount of blood.

It wouldn't surprise me in the least.

That would make these accomplices
you're talking about

dangerous people to deal with.

Yes, I quite take your point--
no honor among thieves.

Well...

thanks for your time.

I'll pursue my remedies
in some other fashion.

I don't think he took your point...

quite.

I think he quite missed it.

I believe I'll pass out, Charlie.

I guess you were
playing poker all night, huh?

Yes, sir.

When we was coming into camp
I saw that Montana fella

you seem to like.

Bullock.
Had my back again last night.

Well, he was seeing
to the result this morning.

Man has an active conscience.

What would you think of us
and him and his friend

- having dinner tonight?
- Why?

People gotta eat, don't they, Bill?

And maybe you'd enjoy
sitting with someone

who wasn't looking
to beat you at cards.

Or blow your fucking head off.

True enough.

Mark me down for a yes.

- I want to know who did their legwork.
- EB: You hit the nail square, Al.

Whoever went between them
Bella Union people

and Artie Simpson would be
a prime source of information.

Do not repeat back to me

what I just said
in different fucking words!

And I wanna know who cut the cheese.

I'll tell you this for openers--

we are gonna set off
an area on the balcony.

And God help whoever doesn't use it,

because the next stink
I have to smell in this office,

and whoever doesn't admit to it
is going out the window

into the muck
onto their fucking heads

and we'll see how they like
farting from that position, okay?

"I hate to press you
on the lot, Mr. Swearengen."

Wouldn't that be a setup?

If they were all
of the same fucking party?

You think them
hardware guys and Hickok

might be the advance party
for them saloon operators?

You did the same fucking thing
I told you not to.

Get them too, say I'm ready
to conclude on their offer.

Stop at Wu's on the way. Tell him he
feeds his pigs Persimmon Phil tonight,

- or I serve them raw loin of Oriental.
- I thought you forgot all about that.

I thought it just sorta
slipped through the cracks.

The faro dude at the new joint--

dope-fiend.
Tall guy, skankly red beard.

You want me to get next
to him, Mr. Swearengen?

Let me take a few dollars,
I'll go play at his table.

Stop hustling.

I'll give you dope when you
bring that cocksucker here.

He's as good as standing in front
of you, Mr. Swearengen.

No.

Stick around.

Help me measure
where their loyalties lie.

These hardware guys?

The burden falls on me, Alma.

That much is now clear.

Do you think there's
any possibility

that Mr. Hickok might reconsider?

None.

Nor was I sure that, if he'd agreed,

the man before me at that breakfast
table was equal to the task.

Promise me one thing then, Brom.

Don't ask me to amend my purpose.

That before seeing
Mr. Swearengen,

you take your walk.

To clear my head and reflect?

If only to perfect your arguments.

I see.

I accept the suggestion

and a feeling for its author.

Thank you.

If I'm stooped when
next you see me, Alma,

it won't be worry weighing me down
but bags of our recovered gold.

Take your walk, dear.

It's Hickok, Alma.

- Unconscious.
- I see.

I take this as proof
my reservations were well founded.

(door closes)

Too considerate to disturb us?

Wouldn't have truck with that...

room clerk ghoul to get
let into Charlie's,

rather sleep in the fucking hallway,
that's the kind of man he is.

Aw! I owe you
another fucking penny.

I owe you another one.

I don't know if you
ever should learn English,

never mind foul.

Spare you knowing
how ignorant people are.

But then I couldn't
tell you about Bill...

sleeping in the hallway
out of thought for others.

And I know some other
fucking stories too--

owe you another penny.

Seth:
Look at that jackass.

Help you with anything?

I tell you who's being done
a favor at this exact moment.

Or would you care to take a guess?

A favor in this tent.

I'd guess it's you doing one for
yourself, considering the quality goods.

The favor here's being done
for Wild Bill fucking Hickok.

What are you talking about?

'Cause if I'm out
prospecting in the hills,

then he ain't getting
his just desserts--

at the poker table or otherwise.

Don't ask me what I mean
by the last part.

What do you mean?

I said you'd do better not asking.

Get outta here.

I'll buy this one.

What's the price on that?

You ain't buying nothing.

I know you.

- Where I know you from?
- Can't help you with that, partner.

You follow him around.

Hey!

(groans)

That tent's shut to you.

Don't come back there.

Fuck you...

and any plans I might've
had to buy something,

or prospect.

I'd be lousy at retail.

I guarantee you that much.

Wouldn't have the patience for it.

I'm not sure how much
future he's got.

Charlie:
Anyways, I want to tell you fellas,

several days I'll be
going back to Cheyenne--

to try and secure a mail route.

I operate a freight business
outta there.

You need resupply, I'll be
bringing several wagons back.

That's good to know.

And, uh, I was, uh,
half wondering too if...

if you'd want to join
Bill and me for dinner.

Tonight or some other time.

Let's do it tonight.

I feel like I should've brung posies.

Afternoon.

Can I help you find something?

Mr. Swearengen wants to see ya.

I only hope you understand
me being short with you

- out in the street this morning.
- You had a lot on your mind.

I had a lot on what's left
of my fucking mind,

these new interests coming in.

I only hope you understand
and see my thinking

in not selling you that lot outright.

What's your thinking today?

Gets dead set at the fucking point,
which I like in most situations.

Do you know these
new saloon interests?

- Are you acquainted with them at all?
- Nope.

Not them and not Bill Hickok.

And all we want to do is
run a hardware business.

I have got to be satisfied.

See, I'm the simple-type cocksucker

that when he sees lightning,
readies for thunder.

And takes the thunder if it
comes from the same storm.

Why wouldn't ya, Mr. Swearengen?

Thank you for saying that,
even if you don't fucking mean it.

What would make you
comfortable selling to us?

1,000.

Plus right of first refusal
on any further sale.

Accepted.

And right to buy back
at the original price,

- plus the cost of your improvements.
- Sol: Accepted.

No gambling
on the fucking premises.

No association of any kind
with these Bella Union cocksuckers.

- Accept--
- We can't sell 'em our goods?

No.

What do you think of that?

Accepted.

What do you think?

Accepted.

Or, they could buy your wares

in your normal course
of your normal fucking business.

I'd guess it's okay to transact
with these cocksuckers.

- We can sell them our wares?
- Your normal fucking wares.

No gambling, whoring or whiskey

on the fucking premises
is the chief fucking point.

Agreed.

Al: I spit in my hand.

Will that drive you
screaming into the hills?

The thousand would be nice.

- Sol: 20, 40, 60, 80, 100.
- A happy outcome.

20, 40, 60, 80, 200.

A shooting exhibition!

That idea for Mr. Hickok has
been had and acted upon

by a few people before you.

And, then afterward,
we cut the bullets out

and the fucking playing cards
he was using as targets.

That's the point I was trying to get to.

How about the tree bark behind
the fucking playing card targets, huh?

Hell, yeah,
we'll sell the fucking bark.

- What do you say, fellas?
- We got our lot.

Hooray for you boys.

Two days for me
to get the word out.

10¢ to watch, and we'll charge
for the souvenirs.

I ain't taking you up on that, mister.

- Another 20 for you on the quiet.
- No.

And the talk between us is over.

Soap!

Soap with a prize inside.

Soap!

Got that man to sell, huh?

Never had to strain so
to spend $1, 000.

Will you let us outta dinner?

You'd as soon not do it, huh?

We'd like to get to building.

Will we see you tomorrow
for breakfast?

Sure.

Maybe we'll catch Bill
coming back from cards.

Well, congratulations
to both of you.

Thanks, Mr. Utter.

- Thank you.
- Good luck to you.

Looks like we're in business.

Huh?

My goodness.

My heavens.

My goodness gracious.

Heavens to Betsy.

What do you think, Hiram,
ever seen a craps layout?

- My first.
- Shall I show you how it works?

I might could follow.

I do read and cipher.

Well, you're well
in advance of the pack.

Tell me what this says.

C-O-M-E.

It says "come."

You really can read, can't ya?

I wasn't raised to lie.

(softly)
I'm liable to be killed, Eddie.

He's on my scent and closing.

Curious tactics,
your coming here then, EB.

To remind you
secrecy is of the essence.

Al Swearengen's a dangerous man.

Let him doubt those he's trusted,

this camp will run red with blood.

Argues for raising your room rates,

at least make the game
worth the candle.

I wonder how cavalier
your attitude will be...

with a pig gnawing through your vitals.

Bet on me screaming for mercy.

EB: I turned down your offer to buy
and pointed you to Artie Simpson.

The whole damn extent
of my involvement.

And I'm staring straight at extinction.

He may get you anyway, EB,
but if your nerve goes,

he'll get you sure.

Now, dope is not my own
preferred form of relaxation,

but I did try the shit
and believe me... I nearly converted.

Jimmy said you'd do right
by me, Mr. Swearengen.

Everything... that goes on
at that place.

I'll give you a daily report.

Yeah.

Here's the type
I'd wanna know about.

Just left your joint.

Judas goat-looking fella.

Hey, you see him?

Coyote-moving type?

- You see him?
- The short guy?

Yeah, with his paws always damp
like a just shit fucking turd.

That's the type
I'd wanna know about.

Comings, goings,
any dealings with your bosses.

I'll keep a special eye on him.

- Al?
- Yeah.

That cherry New York dude

- is downstairs asking for ya.
- No good.

Charlie him the fuck out.

He keeps talking
about the Pinkertons.

Dan Dority thought you were dead.

Yes, I didn't go
to the claim this morning.

You should've told him.

I've had him here
the last several hours in tears.

Dan, look!

- He's alive.
- Thank God.

Brom:
Yes, I chose not to go to the claim.

Whiskey, Brom? Snatch?

Frankly, Al, I'm here to speak with you.
And I'm not to be distracted.

Then proceed, my son. Speak frankly.

We needn't reach the question
of whether my claim has "pinched out,"

as the saying goes, or whether it was
a sham proposition to begin with.

Let's just say,
I've lost faith in the property.

- Al: Have you?
- And I want my $20,000 back.

In the heat you've confused
me with Tim Driscoll.

I think we're both aware, Al,
that Driscoll's no longer in camp.

And because I believe you
colluded with Tim Driscoll

and perhaps were in cahoots
with other parties as well,

I require satisfaction from you.

It's the heat again, Brom.

I don't collude and I don't cahoot.

Al, are you familiar
with the Pinkerton Agency?

- Why?
- Pursuing its business interests,

my family's had several occasions
to engage the Pinkertons.

We maintain friendly relations.
I'd prefer we settle this as gentlemen,

but if need be, the Pinkertons
can be made a party to our dispute.

Has he asked you to reconnoiter
the rims with him at all?

- Never.
- Did he ask to and you refused?

Didn't get around to it, Al.
I thought he was in for the long haul.

What are you talking
about specifically?

The gold you found washed down from
somewhere, that's the law of gravity.

And your claim runs rim to rim
the width of the fucking gulch,

so the original deposit
the gold you found washed down from

is likely on your claim above,
near one of the rims.

That's what you feel
I should reconnoiter?

First place the Pinkertons would look.

Unless I'm fucking wrong.

No, that's how they operate.

So if he asks you,

would you reconnoiter
the rims with him?

Al, I waited out there
all morning for him--

- Is that a yes or a no?
- Yeah.

I'd be happy to reconnoiter
the rims with him.

And if Dan's and mine
good faith reconnoitering

don't show the source of the gold,
do you then make restitution, Al?

Or do I have recourse
to the Agency?

If at that point you ask,
yes, I'll make restitution,

all rights and wrongs aside, 'cause
you've got me by the fucking balls.

Let me go home and change.

Uh, do I need climbing gear?

You might want to bring a pickaxe.

Goodbye, then.

Make it look like an accident.

Ain't this a pretty picture?

I can't wake people
I don't know about.

- Passed out in the public hallway.
- He never knocked on the damn door.

By the time I looked out
he was already snoring.

Did you want me to drag him in
by the damn heels?

I say leave him where he is
and go about your own business.

He's up. I hope you're happy.
Congratulations, cocksucker.

Dinner's been canceled, Bill.

All right.

Them two fellas got their lot bought

and they're started right ahead
with the building.

Sure.

I was that shocked seeing
you sleeping out here, Bill.

First saw you maybe an hour ago.

Didn't want to disturb me
and the child, Charlie.

He must've sought entry to your room,
wherever the fuck you were at.

I'd like to know where that goddamned
innkeep was! He could've let Bill in.

You're not gonna let me sleep, are ya?

I'd have let you sleep
as long as you wanted, Bill.

(sighs)

- How's that little one?
- Good.

She's napping.
More than I can say for you.

Are those hardware boys
looking for extra hands?

In a roundabout way.

I don't agree with this plan.

Reconnoitering the rims
is exactly the sort of

due diligence that Father
would ask if I've done.

Nor do I see the need
to involve your father.

It was my mention of the Pinkertons,
Alma, which brought Swearengen around

and the Pinkertons can't come
into this unless Father does as well.

I wouldn't even know
where to look for them.

Oughtn't we possibly to take
a different view of this, Brom?

Consider we've had an adventure
costing us $20,000

and let matters rest there.

Let them rest?

Yes. If you still want
to see more of the West,

let's go now and see it.

Or else return to New York.

I don't think we should linger here.

I have no abiding affection
for this camp, Alma.

But I won't leave
without my money.

Why do you take
that medicine?

You know why,
to relieve my headaches.

The other day I had a whopper
of a headache and I sampled a bit.

I would hardly call

the dull, numb, floating feeling
I experienced "relief."

Perhaps the sexes experience
the medicine differently.

In any case, I, um...

hope you feel better.

Thank you.

(people chatting)

(EB clearing throat)

EB.

Thanks for coming.

Whistle-- (whistles)

--and I'm underfoot.
Loyal as a damn dog.

I tell you what, Al, you got a helluva
nice turnout downstairs.

Hell of a nice Monday crowd.

EB:
Jesus Christ Almighty!

- Go ahead in, EB.
- I'm not in dutch, am I, Al?

Go ahead in.

Man:
Mr. Hickok?

I'm Nathan Gordon.

I come up from
Murfreesborough and...

- How are you, Nathan?
- Fine.

See, I'll tell you
this much, Mr. Hickok,

and I'd say the same
to the angels in heaven.

As a stage performer,

you cannot act
a single damn lick.

I'd call that a fair judgment.

I saw you on a stage
in Hartford, Connecticut.

And I'd have bet US currency
that you'd been strangled

and killed, and you just didn't
know you was dead yet.

Was you born patient, Montana,
or did you cultivate it?

I guess I'm patient for labor.

Now why the fuck tell him
that type story?

Why, I saw him perform
with Buffalo Bill Cody

and Texas Jack Omohundro
on a stage in Hartford, Connecticut.

Who gives a fuck?

You think he was put on Earth
to hear you run him down?

I'm all right, friend.

No, why don't you get
outta my sight

before I do something
I'll fucking regret?

I'll tell whatever kinda story
I feel like telling.

That's right, tell it walking.

Anyways, me and Sol are sure
grateful you and Mr. Utter

are taking the time to help.

Man #2: Go ahead
about your work, Mr. Hickok.

He won't bother you no more.

Charlie encourages me
being in your company.

He feels you're a positive influence.

Man #2:
No reason you'd remember me

but I saw you marshal in Abilene.

Saw you blow one cocksucker's head

right the fuck off his neck.

I also saw you...

dead center three bullets
on an ace of spade

playing card at 25 goddamned paces.

Some other loudmouth like
this loudmouth I just sorted out

said you'd doctored that playing card
before you ever tacked it to that tree.

- And did you sort him out too?
- Goddamned right.

Well, thanks for all that help.

Now it's time you moved along.

I sorted him out proper.

Gouged out the both
of his fucking eyes.

- Charlie: All right, friend!
- I'm tired of listening to you.

You're tired of listening?

- That's what he said.
- Oh.

I guess everybody's
talking to me now.

Get the fuck outta here!

All right, I hear you, Wild Bill.

You don't need to insult me twice.

I'll tell you what, I hope you get
what's coming to you

and I hope it's sooner
rather than later.

I hope they sort you out!

And I get to see it!

I hope you're gut shot
and die slow!

And I hope they
get you in this camp!

Hand me-- hand me some
of them pegs, would you?

Hey, want some pegs, Bill?

I'm gonna desert you.

Play some poker.

Drink some whiskey.

Thanks for your help.

See ya later, Charlie.

All right, Bill.

Ready, lift.

Oh, there we go.

For having nothing to do with him,

these hardware cocksuckers
sure seem to be joined

to Hickok at the hip.

You made your judgment
on that situation

and I believe you judged correct.

No connection
between them and him?

Or between any of them
and these new saloon people?

You saw it like that and I did too,
to the best of the both of our thinking.

- Which was important to me.
- Which was?

- What?
- When you said "which was,"

I didn't follow
what you were asking.

I wasn't asking nothing.

I was saying.
I didn't have full information

so your impression
on this was important.

Someone I could trust.

What's wrong?

What's the matter?

- My palms are damp.
- They're always damp.

- Yes, sir.
- So is something wrong?

No no.

Well, the great prospector's
found his second wind.

You tell me, Al.

Have you a doubt or misgiving?

You tell me.

Generally, if I have
a misgiving or a doubt,

I kill the cocksucker I have
a doubt and misgiving about.

But these are special circumstances.

I don't know what you mean
by "special circumstances."

If I want to, I can burn
the whole fucking camp down.

- Yes, you can.
- Cut your throat first,

and then burn down
the whole fucking camp.

- You can--
- So I don't know what you mean.

I mean, short of burning it all down,

you gotta trust someone.

- What were you doing over there?
- Where?

- Where?
- At the Bella Union?

Get an impression, scouting.

Listen to me, listen to me.

I was the go-between, it was me.
But without malicious intention.

Well...

I confess to being winded.

Oh no, Dan.

No.

No.

Mother.

Simple greed. One less hotel in camp,
shorten up the room supply.

No conspiracy, no betrayal.

If you're gonna murder me,
I'd appreciate a quick dying.

And not getting ate by the pigs--

in case there is
resurrection of the flesh.

Stay friendly
with them cocksuckers.

With them Bella Union people?

Can't help yourself, can you?

(wheezing)

You fell, but you'll be all right.

I'm gonna take care of you.

Hold on a second.

No hollering.

I'll take care of you.

Now, hush.

(grunts)

(piano music playing)

Tina and Molly can be quiet
if you want him kept company.

That man's already
doing all he wants to.

If I send him anyone, it'd be you.

Are you loaded, Leon?

Well on the path, Mr. Tolliver.

That man at The Gem
has got some serious shit.

I know when you'd make
your first report on us to him,

you'll remember to say thanks.

I hope you're not too fucked up
to deal the deuce for us, Leon.

Opium ain't been made yet, Mr. Sawyer,

that can fuck me up that bad.

I'll tug his reins.

- I hope our hero wins.
- Count on it.

If Bill comes,

I'm gonna move you

to that nice pallet over there,

only 'cause he's far too big
for it and so too would I be.

So if you wake up on the pallet,
that's what happened.

And him and me being where we are

is the circumstances
of the room, period.

And the grownups are just sleeping.

But don't be afraid to--
to-- to wake me up.

All right.

Sweetheart, go to sleep.

I'm right here.

Not too fucking deep, huh?

I won't.

Trust.

Hell of a way to operate, huh?

Learning at all the ins
and outs of getting killed.

Not too fucking deep.

Every fucking beating
I'm grateful for.

Every fucking one of them.

Get all the trust beat outta you.

Then you know what
the fucking world is.

(knocks at door)

Al, open up, it's me, it's Dan!

You're gonna wanna
hear this, open up!

Come here, sit down.

- Well, it's a mixed report.
- You just tell me, is it done?

Oh, it's done.

Yeah, he's gone.

So what's the mixture?

He went owning one hell
of a fucking gold strike.

Where's the dude now?

Splattered at
the bottom of the ridge.

Ride back out.
Bring him back in at dawn.

All right.

Trixie!

You want the other foot?

Yeah.

Please.

(country ballad playing)

♪ Kick off your high heels ♪

♪ Careful where you stand ♪

♪ Kick off your high heels ♪

♪ Careful where you stand ♪

♪ Don't you move too close,
I'm a twisted little man ♪

♪ Heaven help me,
I know what I am ♪

♪ Don't you move too close,
I'm a twisted little man. ♪