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(Open in front of the Pioneer office at dawn. Merrick
and Blasanov are leaving, carrying stacks of the morning’s edition of the paper.
Each with a stack of papers on their arm, they head first to the hotel, where
Richardson is sweeping up. Richardson looks happy to see them, and after they
leave a stack of papers on the counter, he hurries over and starts reading the
paper. Next they head to the Gem, where Johnny and Jen are
up.)
Merrick: 23…four, five, six. 51, 52. (He leaves a stack of papers. Johnny grabs
one and stars reading)
Johnny:
“The latest news.” (Johnny
starts showing the paper to Jen)
(Cut to the Bullock house as Seth and Martha are in
the kitchen. Seth is readying to leave, both of them seem
perturbed)
Martha: I
fail to understand, if I who am most effect am not disturbed, why you should
be.
Seth:
Perhaps I’m disturbed by a reason different from what you
believe.
Martha: Forgive me then for believing the one you’ve
given.
Seth: I
disapprove of changing from day to day when the school is to be
relocated.
Martha:
Speak to the theater people then.
Seth:
What disturbs me is your accepting the uncertainty without
quarrel.
Martha:
For whatever reason, the theater people keep deferring their moving in. I don’t
want the children to feel they’re leaving vacant what has been their place of
education. I want them to leave it as a place with new life.
Seth:
Fine, Martha.
Martha:
What good would quarreling with them do?
Seth:
Fine.
Martha:
It seems you waked intent we quarrel.
Nor, may I say, claiming you were pleased with the outcome of your meeting with
the other men of the camp, did you retire last night with your customary
sweetness.
Seth: Do
please then forgive me … for christ’s sake. (He starts to leave, then pauses at the
door.) Do please forgive
me.
(Seth leaves, and as he reaches the street, Sol is
just leaving his home as well. They walk together as they
talk)
Sol: Mornin’.
Seth: How
did Hearst take the letter?
Sol: I
don’t know. Is the paper even out yet?
Seth: Guess
you don’t fuckin’ know much. Do
you, Sol?
Sol: I
guess I don’t. (They walk a moment)
You wanna fight? (Seth smile, then we
hear gunshots and see a stage entering town. Two men on horseback are behind the
stage, whooping and hollering ensues.)
Men: Whoo!
Whoo.
Teamster:
Hold on! Whoa! (He stops the stage in the
thoroughfare, Al looks down from his balcony.) Road agents! Ambushed us a couple of
miles out!
Seth:
Anyone hurt.
Teamster:
Cocksucker dropped a tree across the road.
We just come up on it and they started shootin’ from the fuckin’
ridgeline. Would have lost the
strongbox sure, Sheriff, not for them there that laid down rifle fire as covered
us.
Morgan:
Whoo! Fuck me! Holy fuck. Holy fuck, right, Wyatt?
Teamster:
I’d like to buy you both a fucking drink.
Morgan:
That’s a big fucking yes from the both of us.
Seth: You
hit anyone?
Wyatt:
No, we were just trying to drive ‘em off, Sheriff.
Seth: How
many were there?
Wyatt:
Two or three.
Morgan: I
heard one of ‘em shout like you winged ‘em. They was dodging behind stumps and
making for cover.
Wyatt:
Hey. (to Morgan) Why don’t you go in there and get drunk with them, let
the Sheriff and I finish out talk?
Morgan:
All right. (He heads into the
Gem)
Wyatt:
Little brother’s got me for a hero.
Seth:
What’s your name?
Wyatt:
I’m Wyatt, and going in there to get drunk is Morgan -- Earp. I was a lawman in Dodge City, before
that in Wichita. But I ain’t
looking for none of that here.
Seth:
What are you looking for?
Wyatt: We
got a timber lease.
Seth: You
and your brother?
Wyatt:
What’s your name?
Seth:
Seth Bullock.
Wyatt:
How do you do?
Dan: (Approaching from the
Gem) There is a fella that wants to
buy you a drink. Over at the
Gem.
Wyatt:
All right. (He tips his hat to Seth,
smiles and follows Dan.)
EB:
(Has been watching from the hotel porch with Richardson) Shall I
authorize a watering and feeding of these gentlemen’s horses, Sheriff? (Seth ignores him) As Mayor? As a gesture from the camp? (Seth leaves, EB addresses Richardson)
One at a time…lest they drag you to a deserved demise.
(Cut to Joanie’s room. Jane is asleep on the floor
next to Joanie’s bed. Joanie starts to straighten Jane’s blanket, and Jane
startles)
Jane: Ugh, fuck!
Joanie:
It’s me, Jane. If you want the bed,
I’m leaving.
Jane:
Don’t go nowhere on my account. I’m
a fuckin’ floor sleeper anyway. (Jane gets up and prepares to leave)
Joanie:
Wanna find fruit for the schoolchildren’s morning snack.
Jane: Uh, I’m up,
I’m up, I’m up. I’ll get the hell
out of here.
Joanie:
Why not stay?
Jane: I got errands
all morning myself. (sniffles) If you
just heard me fart, excuse me.
Joanie:
Will you come back later?
Jane: Uh…Maybe,
maybe. It’s
heads or tails where any fuckin’ day will take me. (They leave the room and start down the
stairs. Shaunnessey sees them.)
Shaunnessey: I’ll not have vile affections or uncleanness on
these premises! Find my specific meaning at Romans I:24 through 6—(He is
holding his little blackboard with scriptures on it)
Jane: (Mocking as if to read the board he holds)
Fuck
yourself with a fist punch up your ass, today, at the present moment. (She smacks him on the side and walks
away) I gotta
go.
Joanie: I’m moving outta that fucking place.
Jane: Not me. Not
me. I never fuckin’ moved
in.
Shaunnessey: And verses following. (Joanie gives a dirty look
and walks away)
(Cut to the livery as Steve is washing up. Fields is
saddling his horse and preparing to leave)
Steve: Don’t think you was offered a job here last
night. Gauging the fucking level
you’d fucking presume to was all that was. (He walks over to Fields) Maybe you
declined ‘cause you thought you ought to be partners in the fuckin’ business,
name on the signage like a human’s or God hadn’t set man apart from the fucking
beasts!
Fields: I
got an errand, then I’m going to San Francisco.
Steve: We
will never be equal, sign or fucking no.
And if I agreed to your name on the signage, we would know the fucking truth
still. (Fields leaves on foot)
Fucking Nigger Bastard! Assuming to leave without my consent. (Steve turns and looks the horse in the
face.) Not without a fucking saddle, he won’t. Not if I hide his fucking
saddle till he reveals fucking Hostetler’s nigger voodoo ciphering methods. So
accounts ain’t constantly to be carried around in the man’s mind till he lives
in terror of taking a drink! (He looks back at the horse, it lowers it’s
head a bit.) Implying what by
that fucking lordly look? That he’ll outflank my tactics buying a new fucking
saddle? (He walks over and picks up a
shoeing tool) Then I don’t suppose you’ll mind the improved fucking strategy
involves you coming unshod behind. Now give me a fucking hoof. (He bends down and grabs the horses back
hoof.) Yeah. There we go. (The horse
neighs and kicks Steve away.) That’s right. Harp and fucking criticize until there’s
a fucking solution in the offing, and then become fucking obstinate. Now, for the last fucking time, give me
a fucking hoof.
(Cut to behind the hotel, as Lou is collecting
firewood in a basket. Fields approaches her from behind)
Lou: Come
sneaking up like an Injun.
Fields:
Can’t wait on your boy no longer, Miss Lady. (Hands her the bundled cash) Bow on that
money is the same one you tied.
Lou: I’m
grateful you waited on him as long as you did.
Fields:
It ain’t being none of my business gonna stop me from asking how your boy’s talk
with Hearst went.
Lou:
Odell gonna meet up with in New York City with a man works for Mr. Hearst. Go back with him to
Liberia.
Fields:
Ah.
Lou:
Odell say if Mr. Hearst wanted, he’d harm him here, get to see the hurt he
done.
Fields:
Well, your water broke open a damn smart nigger, didn’t it, Aunt
Lou?
Lou: You
think there’s sense to that?
Fields:
More than I’ve made since I’ve learned to talk.
Lou: No
place I guess you can hide a child from danger.
Fields:
If I knew, I’d keep that spot for myself.
(chuckles)
Lou: And
can I fix you something to take away?
Fields:
Something with meat and heat to it.
Lou: Come
on, stand next to me. (She starts to grab
the basket of wood)
Fields:
Here, let me get that for you.
Lou:
Thank you, Sir.
(Cut to Al’s office. Al and Wyatt ar at Al's des, Dan
is standing behind Earp.)
Al: Myself and him over there, my strong right arm, along
with Tom Nuttall that runs the Saloon No. 10, was the first operators in this
here camp.
Wyatt:
So…
Al:
Turned the first card, sold the first booze and snatch. Road agents, story goes, don’t work
these hills but by my leave. Which
if that’s true, explains why I’m fucking interested in what you’re telling.
Wyatt:
So…
Al: So…go
the fuck ahead and tell me then.
Wyatt: Me
and my brother happened along and we balked some unknown parties who was having
a few shots at the stage. That’s all.
Al: Ears
flat back to the head, nose without boils, fucking modest. A proper hero, Dan. How many unknown
parties?
Wyatt:
Uh, two or maybe three.
Al: At
what remove from you?
Wyatt: A
hundred feet and more.
Al:
Describe ‘em.
Wyatt:
Nah, they broke off. We returned
fire.
Al:
Describe ‘em.
Wyatt: My
meaning would be them firing, I didn’t get a good fucking look at them. I’d
also say you’re fucking free with your reprehending tone. (Dan slowly unsheathes his knife and holds
it at his side. Al raises his eyebrows at Dan and then at Wyatt for a moment. He
furrows his brow.) Drink?
Wyatt:
All right. (Al reaches for the bottle in his drawer,
Wyatt starts to reach for his gun till he sees it’s just a
bottle)
Al: My
opinion, may come out of vanity, your tale’s full of shit. I say, or else I’d
have known of ‘em, there was no road agents. I say…to make a hero’s entrance
into camp, you and your friend kicked up dust, whooped and hollered and played
all the parts yourselves. (He drinks)
Who is that with you?
Wyatt:
It’s my brother. This was my
idea. (Al smiles as he poured another
drink.)
Al: Any
others? Not brothers, ideas—how to
pass your time in camp.
Wyatt: I
got a timber lease to work.
Al: Come
by how?
Wyatt:
Cards, last night in Custer City. (Al
drinks)
Al: Small
chance that you want to explore options to working your lease, anyone hires your
gun, you report to me. I’ll double what they’re paying you. But your story ought
be true, you understand? I’ll test the sense of it, that knows more of this
place and I guess every other than you do. If you choose to fell the timber,
axes, wedges, block and tackle Sheriff has at the hardware store.
Wyatt:
All right. (He takes his shot off Al’s desk, drinks it,
grabs his hat and walk out of the office.
Dan shuts the door behind him.)
Dan: You
figure Hearst will take a run at him?
(Cut to Fields, walking to the livery with a swaddled
bundle of food from Lou.)
Fields: Hmm.
Good cooking, big-hearted fat lady presiding over my rest, I wouldn’t be
headed for San Francisco. (As he enters
the livery, he sees Steve slumped in a corner behind the horse) She’d
probably know what I’m talking about—how the wicked live. And are always at
fucking ease. Or just plain drunk
before noon.
(He takes a closer look at Steve, sees his eyes are
open and he looks hurt. He bends over him and sees that Steve is bleeding from
his head.)
(Cut to the Gem. Morgan is at the bar as Wyatt
descends the stairs)
Morgan: Wyatt.
(Wyatt joins his brother at the
bar, talking to Jen.) Wyatt, this here’s Jen, whose sister turns out the
both of us have knowed. Mary Bess
from the Yellow Bird in Gunnison.
Wyatt:
Even prettier.
Morgan: I
was speaking to Jen of that $11…
Wyatt: We
got to go acquire them tools.
Morgan:
That I loaned her sister. We was working out the forgiveness of the debt. (Johnny steps closer to them. Wyatt leans
into Morgan.)
Wyatt:
Well you can work out her forgiveness later. (He puts Morgan’s hat on top of Morgan’s
head and guides him away from the bar towards the door.)
Morgan: I
thought we was gonna capitalize on the good will we created.
Wyatt: Seeing to our fucking capitalizing means more than
getting your end wet. (Jen smiles at Johnny as they Earp brothers
step out onto the boardwalk. Wyatt
takes out a wad of cash and counts some out for Morgan.) Here. This will buy the tools to cut
our lumber.
Morgan:
What are you going to do?
Wyatt:
The next fucking step of my plan.
Morgan:
To capitalize?
Wyatt:
You go ahead down to that hardware place.
Morgan: I
can see to the tree cutting and more.
Wyatt:
Well only start with seeing to the trees.
Morgan:
Or don’t you think I’m able?
Wyatt:
Jesus Christ, Morgan. Now probably I’ll be in this place. (Points to the Bella Union)
Morgan:
Well, what did he want upstairs?
Wyatt: We
ain’t got time for me to get into that.
(Cut to Merrick’s office where he is working on his
printing press as Hearst enters)
Hearst: Morning!
Merrick:
Good morning, Mr. Hearst.
Hearst:
Very constructive reminder in this morning’s edition. 12 days to the election.
Will you continue to show that calendar, uh, 11, 10 days, so
on?
Merrick:
Assuming my press stays in tact. (They
laugh)
Hearst:
Thanks, too, for publishing Sheriff Bullock’s letter of condolence to the family
of that murdered worker of mine.
Merrick:
Oh, you’re welcome.
Hearst: I
suppose I should have written them myself.
Merrick:
I’d not presumed to suppose in that regard, Mr. Hearst, one way or another.
Hearst:
Was the Sheriff’s making his letter part of the public record meant to embarrass
or reproach me?
Merrick:
I’d not suppose in that connection either.(Merrick is looking a little
confused by Hearst’s approach)
Hearst:
I’m to take you for majestically neutral?
Merrick:
I’d make the less exalted claim, as a journalist, of keeping my opinions to
myself.
Hearst:
You are less majestically neutral than—than cloaking your cowardice in
principle? (Hearst is leaning into Merrick)
Merrick:
(Pauses to consider) I can only answer perhaps,
Mr. Hearst, events have not yet
disclosed to me all that I am.
Hearst:
Those kind of events could be in the weather, Merrick. You might have a second
calendar for them.
(Cut to Bella Union as Cy descends the stairs to meet
Con. Wyatt is at the craps table)
Con: (Indicating Wyatt)
The fella all those hats was up in
the air about, Mr. T.
Cy:
Ah. Claims he drove off them road
agents. (They walk over to Wyatt) Elrod Yulaham
from Galena, Illinois.
Wyatt:
Uh, afraid not.
Cy: Oh, I
see now. You got more flare about the nostrils than Elrod.
Con: Uh,
this here Gentleman’s a hero, Mr. Tolliver. Thwarted a band of brigands
attacking the stage out of Cheyenne. (Wyatt shoots)
Leon: Three,
Craps.
Cy: Don’t
levy the man’s wager, Leon. His throw got queered by Con’s chatter. (Wyatt nods to
Cy.)
Leon: Last was no
roll.
Cy: Cy
Tolliver, Sir. It’s a honor to meet
you. Thanks in the name of us all.
Wyatt:
Aw, we just happened to happen by.
Cy:
That’s the first I hear of a we. (Wyatt
shoots)
Leon: Six is the
point. Point six.
Wyatt:
Yeah, well, I come into camp with my brother.
Cy: Who
would be where at this present juncture?
Wyatt:
Well, we acquired a timber lease.
He’s out buying tools for us to work it.
Cy: Tools
to work a timber lease. (chuckles) I
guess you’re even more a hero, guns being out of your line.
Wyatt: I
didn’t call them a fully foreign subject now.
Cy: I
see.(chuckles, Wyatt shoots.) I see.
Leon: Eight. Point
six.
Cy: Pay
the man, Leon.
Wyatt:
But I didn’t make my point.
Cy: You
did to me.
(Cut to Chesterton’s room at the hotel, Jack is
there)
Chesterton:
We ought try…to cross the
road…today.
Jack: The
thoroughfare’s a menace. Ruts,
sinkholes…quick slimes (Chesterton starts coughing harshly, Jack
sits by his side holds his hand.)
Chesterton: You’re the producer, Jack. You’ll manage. (Jack gets up from the bed and strides to
the door, pulling it closed as he steps into the hallway. Hearst is at his own door. He appears to
be in pain.)
Jack: Forgive
my presumption, Sir. Have you
lancelet pains hereabouts?
Hearst:
Yes.
Jack:
Intermittent, but sudden, sharp in the onset, occasioned by a tilt of a
shoulder, a shift of weight?
Hearst: I
may try ice-water dousing.
Jack:
Ah.
Hearst: A
german Doctor in Viginia City urged me to it.
Jack: A vogue,
if you would permit me to say, now quite exploded, even recognized as possibly
harmful.
Hearst:
Really?
Jack: Yeah.
The cold causing too rapid and painful a contraction of muscles already knotted
in spasm.
Hearst: I
see.
Jack: I am
aware of a certain technique by whose virtue I was gradually and by degrees
relieved of a similar suffering of my own.
Hearst:
You are?
Jack: Blessed
by my pain’s entire remission for 15 years, 1 month and 3 days. (chuckles)
Hearst: I
dread the prospect of ice-water dousing.
Jack:
Taught me by a former Odabashi of the Turkish artillery, come himself to be
afflicted through chronic lifting of cast-iron cannonballs.
Hearst:
Can you help me…who does not know your name?
Jack: John
Langrishe, Sir. Ah, permit me to say you are known to me.
Hearst:
George Hearst. (They shake
hands.)
Jack: Yes. Oh,
yes. Would later today be convenient to start, George
Hearst?
Hearst:
Indeed.
(Downstairs, Countess, Bellegarde and Claudia all
wait in the lobby. Jack comes down the stairs and they
stand.)
Claudia: Better today?
Jack: No
better. Nor will be to take him any day to come. Be good enough to inform the
artisans they will not be renovating after recess at the school. Prepare his
transport. We are going to show him the theater.
Bellegarde: Will you
help me?
Jack: I’ve
other fucking business. (He leaves out the front
door)
(Cut to Bella Union as Wyatt is shooting the
dice.)
Leon:
Seven out. (Leon eyes Con, Con gives him the
thumb.)
Wyatt:
Motherless whore.
Leon: Speaking
against the establishment’s interests, you might leave with a rosier outlook
still holding some of our money. (Wyatt chuckles and gathers up his chips,
dropping them in his hat as he walks back to the cage.) Big winner on the
day. (Wyatt slaps his hat down on the ledge,
lifting it to reveal a pile of chips.)
Con:
Well, those appear to have propagated.
(Cut to the Chez Amie, Martha and Jack are speaking
on the front porch.)
Jack: He
worsens, Mrs. Bullock, never to improve, I’m afraid.
Martha:
I’m very sorry, Mr. Langrishe.
Jack:
Hope having postponed the old actor’s visit to what will be our theater, its
abandonment now argues the visit’s urgent execution.
Martha: I
understand.
Jack: Forcing
this directness upon me. When, Mrs. Bullock, today, will your classes stand in
recess?
Martha:
How soon could you have him here?
Jack: The
logistics of his transport and the histrionics of his porter may not make it
till late this afternoon.
Martha:
I’ll cancel the session right after the recess.
Jack: Bless
you. (He kisses her hand) And thanks.
(He sees a little girl peeking out the
window and taps on the glass, she runs away. He turns around and sees the garden.)
Oh.
Beautiful.
(Cut to the Gem, Morgan is back and is talking to a
different whore)
Morgan: I
got ammunition left.
Whore: I
see that. (Johnny approaches him, shotgun
in hand)
Morgan: I
didn’t order any shotgun.
Johnny:
I’m doing you the courtesy of allowing you not to think I’m as stupid as
evidently you believe that girl off who you tore that piece of pussy off of
is.
Morgan:
The girl’s sister owed me money. From the Yellowbird in Gunnison. (Johnny sets the shotgun on the bar and
turns back to Morgan.)
Johnny:
Well, Jen claims you worked that information from her.
Morgan:
That her sister owed me money?
Johnny:
Yeah.
Morgan:
Well, did she tell you how I did it?
‘Cause I’d sure like to remember for the next time I’m
short.
Johnny:
Worked it from her at this very bar in idle chatter, having a sister who whored
at the Yellowbird in Gunnison, and only then alleged the supposed owed $11. (Wyatt enters)
Morgan:
(whistles) How long you been wearing
shoes, counselor?
Wyatt: Did you fuck off the full 11?
Johnny:
She claims $5 was owed, but my inkling is the right total is seven. (Wyatt eyes both Johnny and Dan. He counts
out seven dollar bills and sets them on the table in front of Johnny. Johnny steps forward and takes the
money.) Thanks.
Wyatt:
Mm-hm. Where are the tools,
Morgan?
Morgan:
That is a story in itself. (The leave, Dan watching them. Johnny talks
with Jen.)
Johnny:
You say it weren’t an ass fuck, I believe you.
(Cut to the street. Seth is walking and meets the
Earps in front of Merrick’s office.)
Seth: You
buying those Goddamned tools, or not?
Morgan: I
wouldn’t have chose them not meaning to buy.
Seth: As
opposed to leaving chosen goods piled in the middle of the fucking store for
every other piece of business to be conducted over and around. It’s customary to
stand by till the transaction’s finished. (Merrick and Blazanov watch from the window
of their office.)
Morgan: I
was called elsewhere.
Seth:
Elsewhere meaning the Gem.
Wyatt:
You wouldn’t be doubting my brother’s word? (All three men are standing ready
to draw their guns)
Seth: (looking at
Morgan) Pay for the tools and remove
them, and I’ll cease to doubt your ability to do so. (Turns to Wyatt) How’s that? (Wyatt grabs Morgan by the jacket and pushes
him past Bullock in the direction of the Hardware
Store.)
( Cut to Hearst’s room, where he and Cy are seated at
the table.)
Cy: There
is no losing in a match like that, Mr. Hearst.
Hearst:
Never been much for draws.
Cy: Well,
I—I—I meant to say, let the matter be joined aright, whether Bullock or this
gunsel stood at the finish, there’s no losing in it for you.
Hearst:
What does “joined aright” mean?
Cy: Say
Bullock was first provoked out the public eye, so his throwing down in public
seemed…overquick. There’s all kinds
of implications to that, legal and
political too.
Hearst:
Have you taken steps to join this matter aright?
Cy: Only
steps I took so far, Mr. Hearst, was to bring me into your presence. As to what steps will be required if you
give the go-ahead, easy as the Sheriff sparks, and cocky look as his kid wears,
the number should be few. (Hearst nods) I—I would suggest, to keep
you fucking protected, that the kid should think I’m at the
helm.
Hearst:
Very circumspect. Very
considerate.
(Cut to Chesterton’s room as Bellegard
enters)
Bellegarde: There are the blankets.
Chesterton: Oh, there they are. (chuckles)
Bellegarde: You are excused by age and illness. (He wets a cloth) I am simply
stupid. (He dabs Chesterton’s chin with the wet
cloth.)
Chesterton: Oh, no.
(chuckles)
Bellegarde: At a minimum, unforgivably
forgetful.
Chesterton: My dear boy, we are here now. You and I and the blankets. (Wheezes and coughs)
Bellegarde:
Yes, yes. Um—(He starts wrapping Chesterton up with his
shawl and coverlet.)
Chesterton:
I wonder where the chair
would be in which I’m to be transported.
Bellegarde: Oh that the Countess and Claudia should be wheeling
across the thoroughfare even as we speak.
(Chesterton coughs and sounds like
he’s drowning in his own sputem.
Bellegarde, fuck that he is, makes no move to help him to his side to
spit it out so he doesn’t fucking choke.
Yeah, we all want him to fucking die already, but geez, have a
heart. Even if he does smell like a
nursing home.) We shall swaddle you like the baby Jesus, (He begins throwing blankets onto
Chesterton) making the most simple and economical of transactions to
transfer to you the Countess and Claudia’s chair once they arrive. (He grabs onto Chesterton and pulls him up
into a sitting position.)
Chesterton: All right.
All right.
(Cut to the livery. Doc is there looking at Steve as
Fields watches. Steve is clearly head-injured and gazes into
space)
Fields: Is he dying?
Is he dead?
Doc: He’s
in a bad fucking way. (Fields goes into his money pouch and hands
Doc some coins.)
Fields:
Here. Take that for his care and burying. Let me get my fucking horse past. And let the bank know, someone don’t
take over this place, that loan they made Steve is going
bad.
Doc: Why
don’t you tell them?
Fields:
Cause I’m a nigger, Doc, that don’t care what stands or
falls.
Doc:
Hostetler was too.
Fields:
Hostetler was taller than me. (He steps in close and bends over Steve)
Fuck you, Steve. Fuck you, Hostetler. (Turns to his horse) And fuck you
too!
Doc: I
can ask Jane Cannary to see to keeping him comfortable.
Fields:
See to her bringing back a bottle while you’re at it. I’ll linger, look to these
animals till the bank sends someone over.
(Cut to the street, Countress and Claudia are pushing
a sort of wheelchair through the muck with EB behind. They approach the
hotel)
EB: That
chair is hotel property. I will deal with the bathhouse administrator, believe
you me.
Countess:
Shoo! Shoo! (To the oxen in the
street.)
Bellegarde:
Where have you been? (Comes out
from the hotel)
Countess:
Pushing this contraption through the muck. To the bathhouse, it was on
loan. (snickers) Wait till you see what they
do there.
Claudia:
Stay right there, Bellegarde. We’re already knee-deep in
shit.
(cut to Al’s office, where Seth is
pacing)
Seth: Are
those assholes working for you?
Al: Those
heros that saved the stage?
Seth:
That Dority collected.
Al: Once
he confessed to the stretch I put the one on a fucking
string.
Seth:
$200
in merchandise in the middle of our store like an interrupted
shit.
Al:
Commerce. Every hump above ground’s
your master.
Seth:
Letter was a fucking mistake.
Al:
No.
Seth: I’m not
waiting on Hearst, I’ll tell you that right now. I am not on his fucking
timetable, or at his fucking beck and call. (knock on the
door.)
Al:
Yeah.
Merrick: (Whispering)
A.W. Merrick,
Al.
Blazanov:
Cheyenne and Black Hills Telegraph.
Merrick:
Is Sheriff Bullock inside?
Al: Only
briefly. He’s out of sorts and going downstairs for a blowjob. (Seth looks at Al) Come in for fuck’s
sake! (They enter, Al rolling his
eyes.)
Blazanov: Telegram for Sheriff Bullock. (He hands Seth the
paper.)
Al:
What reaction to your publication of
Bullock’s letter?
Merrick:
The great man himself took, um, umbrage.
Al:
(To Seth) It was not a mistake, and we are waiting on Hearst. Unless you think those two assholes are
his response.
Seth: (Heads to the door and holds up the
telegram) Not likely. (exits)
Blazanov: (Stepping
forward) Uh,
the Sheriff is going for blowjob?
(Seth approaches the hardware store, we see the pile
of lumber tools in the doorway. The Earps are inside talking to
Sol)
Wyatt: Now having paid, may we leave our tools here till we
go out tomorrow to our lease?
Seth: I’ve had
a wire…says your statement is true, far as having worked as a lawman. Not asking
why you put the work aside, I’ll say only some that do, find themselves ready
and uniquely able to work the other side of the street. (He sees Wyatt bristle at this)
Some do that. (Morgan shrugs, Seth takes off his hat and
steps behind the counter next to Sol.
The Earps step past him to leave.) I took the badge off myself once, without
losing my impulse to beat on certain types.
Wyatt:
No, that seems never to go.
(Cut to Hearst’s room as he is pacing. There’s a
knock at the door)
Hearst: Not now!
Lou:
Could I come back soon then, Mr. Hearst?
Hearst:
God damn it. Come in Aunt Lou. Come in now. (She enters) Boots are in the
corner.
Lou: I’d
pay a man three weeks of my wages, Mr. Hearst, rode quick to catch my son and
give him this from his Mama. Searched and searched before he left, come to find
it with him gone. (He takes a brooch from
her.)
Hearst:
Lovely garnet. Does seem a moral law
we find what we seek only tardily.
Lou:
Would you send somebody, Sir?
Hearst:
My imagination resists the approach, in that however quickly he might catch
Odell, until he did, the man would know he rode in the service of a colored
person. I’d suggest,
having packed the brooch carefully and securely, we ship it to New York, where
my man Fitzpatrick can give it to your son when he
arrives.
Lou: All
right. (nods)
Hearst:
Are you afraid that by his not receiving today the token of your love, something
untoward might befall Odell? Are you superstitious that way, Aunt Lou? (She says nothing, turns and picks up his
boots.) Thanks for seeing to those.
It’s the reason I thought you’d knocked.
(Cut to the Bella Union, it’s nighttime now. The
Earps are enjoying the company of the whores.)
Wyatt: Maybe we should head out for the
lease.
Morgan:
Well, now has the sun rose since last I looked? Or more than you let on
previous, do you even know the path we’re going?
Wyatt:
No, I do not fucking know.
Morgan:
Second look, he don’t seem such a bad sort, that fucking Sheriff. Maybe we ought to be fucking deputies,
work our lease on the fucking side.
Wyatt:
Well, did you hear him offer us work?
Morgan:
Well, then let’s kill him and take his job. (Cy comes downstairs)
Wyatt: On
the other hand, here is a man who might be about to.
Morgan:
The one that has a plan for you that factors into yours for us? (He starts to turn)
Wyatt: Do
no fucking turn around, Morgan.
Morgan:
(whispers) I thought he didn’t show
up. (Wyatt clears his
throat)
Cy: Well,
well. This the hero brother I heard
about?
Wyatt:
This is him, Morgan Earp. Morgan,
meet Mr. Tolliver who operates the joint.
Cy: How
do you do, Morgan?
Morgan:
How do you do? What a beautiful
fucking joint.
Cy: Well,
we like to think so.
(Cut to the livery. Jane is there, trying to feed
Steve as Fields looks on Steve remains stuporous.)
Jane: Come on, you fucknut. (She holds a spoon of mashed potatoes up to
his mouth) Without
a day’s education, medical or otherwise, I vouch safe this fucking truth: Those as don’t eat without exception
fail to survive. (Steve doesn’t move. She gives up and throws
the spoon back in the pan and stands.) Fuck ya. (She puts the pan down and grabs her gun
belt, strapping it on.) He’s all yours.
Fields:
Thanks for your help.
Jane: Yup. (leaving)
Fields:
You heard the lady, Steve. Them that
goes on have got to fucking eat. (He takes the spoon and flings potatoes in
Steve’s face.) Cocksucker. (Laughing and flinging potatoes)
Cocksucker.
(Cut to Hearst’s room, Jack and Countess are there.
Hearst is lying nude on a table as Jack covers him with a blanket. Jack then
starts to rub Hearst’s back in a circular motion)
Jack:
Do for me, Mr. Hearst, and
much more for yourself, this one important thing. Breathe, Sir. Breathe deeply, hungrily,
as if your life depended on it. (Hearst inhales rapidly) And yet
slowly! As with the rhythm of the
waves of the sea. (He looks at Countess,
she nods and doesn’t seem to have a clue what Jack is up to) The while, Mr.
Hearst, allowing influx of my motion’s heat. (Countess nods) Do you begin to feel it, man?
Hearst:
(muffled) I think
so.
Jack:
Hmm?
Hearst: I
said I think so.
Jack:
Then too…begin to feel this: One
towards the neck and one towards the coccyx. (He puts some pressure on these points with
his palms. Looks up and exclaims as
if in pain.) Ooh!
Hearst:
What?
Jack: My
God!
Hearst:
Are you all right?
Jack: I am.
How are you?
Hearst:
Ah.
Jack: Some
release in tension?
Countess:
Ja. (She almost cracks a smile)
Hearst:
Yes. (Laughs) Yes, by
God.
Jack: Is the
pain diminished in some measure?
Hearst:
It is. (Jack groans as he lets go and collapses,
stepping back, holding Countess’ hand.
Hearst starts to move.)
Jack: Now lie still, Sir. As your nodals…settle to the
adjustment. Try to
sleep.
Hearst: I
don’t want to sleep. I’m waiting
for something.
Jack: Very
well, please yourself.
(Cut to what must be the new schoolhouse. Mose is
seated, Joanie is standing.)
Joanie: Second look, she may have decided it didn’t suit.
This hasn’t said…anything yet to spare my feelings.
Mose: I
don’t believe Mrs. Bullock’s that sort. I believe them theater people not moving
in yet, she feels no call to disrupt her education activities by moving the
children out yet from the Chez Amie into this place here. In other words,
exactly what she said.
Joanie:
Does it trouble you, keeping watch on a dark place?
Mose: No,
ma’am, it does not. Especially when I know there’s light coming to
it.
(Joanie smiles and crosses the room to give Mose a pat on the shoulder, then exits. Mose looks a bit startled, looks at his shoulder and smiles)
(Cut ot the livery, Fields is drinking from a bottle
and watching Steve. He has second thoughts, and takes up a cloth and starts to
wipe the potatoes from Steve’s face.)
Fields: One
sorry-ass, shit eating cocksucker.
(Cut to the Chez Amie, Jack and Chesterton are seated
in chairs together looking over the room)
Jack: Claudia and the Countess have embroidered the tabs in
gold: Thalia and
Melpomene.
Chesterton: Big lie…the masks. Same damn thing, Jack—comedy and
tragedy.
Jack: The
curtain rises. The stage is set
before us.
Chesterton: What’s
the rake?
Jack: 18
to one, old trouper.
Chesterton: Hmm. (Chesterton seems to be pretty much out of
it. Jack is looking sad)
Jack:
Dost thou know Dover? There is a cliff whose high unbending head looks fearfully
on the confined deep. Bring me back to the brim of it, and from that place…I
shall no leading need. Here’s the
fly tower. If you mount up, take firm a rail in each hand. (He pauses and looks at his friend, who is
motionless) I’ll boost your bum, darling.
Chesterton: Here’s the place. (he seems to be fading
away)
Jack: How
fearful and dizzy it is to cast one’s eyes so low.
Chesterton: Set me where you stand. Let go my hand. (Jack slips his hand out of his friend’s
grasp.)
Jack: You’re
now within a foot.
Chesterton:
Line. L-line. (He seems to have
died)
Jack: Our father, which art in heaven, hallowed be thy
name. (We see motion in the shadows, the other
members of the troupe appear) He’s gone. (Bellegarde puts his hand on the old man’s
shoulder and slips off his glasses.)
Claudia:
We’ll see to him now. (Jack
leaves sadly)
(Cut to the Bella Union, the Earps are partying with
several whores.)
Leon:
Winner 10! 10 as hard as they
come.
Morgan:
(To the whores) That is my big brother, who I’m going to be assisting on
some very important business for the man you work for, and for whom I may put in
a good word for you depending on how good you are to me.
(cut to Al’s office, where Jack has
arrived)
Al: You
seem blue, Jack.
Jack:
That old actor I spoke of … passed.
Al:
Sorry.
Jack: Wrapped
like a mummy in blankets, drowning in his own fluids. (Al stops pouring and eyes him) Perhaps,
Al, given the sleigh ride which ensues, the best connection to leviathan may not
be by harpoon.
Al:
Explain yourself.
Jack: I mean
the inimical Mr. Hearst, suffering with discomfort at his back, the wiles of a
bullshitter such as oneself may have use as a feint to occupy him.
Al:
How?
Jack: Campaign
towards relief, protracted, punctuated by Pentecostal whoops and manual pushes
and prods while invoking arcane authorities. The host’s unhealthy soul reliable
to sustain his symptoms.
(They step out onto the balcony and Al spots Hearst
on his “veranda, checking his pocket watch)
Al: You
were good to try a net on that cocksucker, Jack, on such a sorry day. (Jack drinks and walks down the balcony a
bit, eye on Hearst.)
Jack: Mr. Hearst!
Are we still in a state of respite?
Hearst:
The odd twinge, Mr. Langrishe, but overall much improved.
Jack: A
winning skirmish in a long campaign! (Hearst tips his hat to Al) Mr.
Swearengen.
Al: Mr.
Hearst.
Jack: Old
friends! (He points to Al and back to
himself, laughing aloud.) Don’t imbibe overmuch the evening
chill.
Hearst:
Waiting for something.
(Jack gives him a thumbs up, and walks back toward
Al.)
(Cut to Bullock’s house as Seth and Martha talk in
the kitchen.)
Martha: It appears the theater people’s moving in was delayed
by the illness of one of their troupe, who today, I believe, has died. So they should be moving in very
shortly.
Seth: Thank
you for telling me. (sighs) Without quarrel. (She approaches him, they stand next to a
window.)
Martha:
And you acknowledge your lack of
sweetness on retiring last evening?
Seth: I do,
being uneasy about my letter’s publication.
Martha:
And Mr. Hearst’s reaction.
Seth: (sighs) Perhaps tonight will be twice as
sweet.
(There’s a commotion in the street, many riders enter
the town with torches blazing. The Bullocks watch this through their window. Cut
to the Bella Union porch as Cy walks out and sees the
riders)
Cy: Sweet
mother of Jesus. (The men pause in front of Mr. Hearst and he
nods them down the thoroughfare, they head in that direction. Cy addresses Con)
Take them amateurs off the fucking sugar tit. Mr. Hearst brought the pros to
town. (Hearst smiles and steps
inside.)
(Al and Jack are
watching from his balcony)
(The many riders gallop down the
street.)
The End
Click here for the music from the credits
Directed by: Ed Bianchi
Al Swearengen: Ian McShane Dan Dority: W Earl Brown
Seth Bullock: Timothy Olyphant
Alma Garret: Molly Parker
Ellsworth: Jim Beaver
Doc Cochran: Brad Dourif
Sol Star: John Hawkes
Trixie: Paula Malcomson
Tom Nuttall: Leon Rippy
Cy Tolliver: Powers Boothe
Leon: Larry Cedar
Sophia: Bree Seanna Wall
Silas Adams: Titus Welliver
Martha Bullock: Anna Gunn
Hugo Jarry: Stephen Toblowsky
Claudia: Cynthia Ettinger
Richardson: Ralph Richeson
Jen: Jennifer Lutheran
Morgan Earp: Austin Nichols |
E.B. Farnum: William Sanderson
Calamity Jane: Robin Weigert
Charlie Utter: Dayton Callie Johnny Burns: Sean Bridgers
Andy Cramed: Zach Grenier
Jewel: Geri Jewell
A. W. Merrick: Jeffrey Jones
Mose Manual: Pruitt Taylor Vince
Mr. Wu: Keone Young
Joanie Stubbs: Kim Dickens
Con Stapleton: Peter Jason
Blazanov: Pavel Lychnikoff
Steve: Michael Harney
Jack Langrishe: Brian Cox
Aunt Lou Marchbanks: Cleo King
Harry Manning: Brent Sexton
Odell: Omar Gooding
Gustave, the tailor: Gordon Clapp
Wyatt Earp: Gale Harold |
Transcription last updated on 02/06/2007 | |
Deadwood transcription from www.CalamityDan.com These transcriptions are the property of CalamityDan.com, and are intended solely for entertainment purposes. No copying or public distribution is permitted. |