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(Open at the Gem with Davey sitting in a chair outside the whore’s room where Mr Wu is being held. Davey is fast asleep. Mr Wu quietly slips out of the room, carrying his shoes, and exits the back door of the Gem)
( Cut to Al, having coffee on the balcony as a stage
arrives. Al watches as George Hearst steps off the stage and stretches. Hearst
looks around the camp and sees Al on the balcony. Hearst walks off toward the
Grand Central)
( Cut to Mr Wu making his way down chink’s alley. He
comes to one of his helpers, and motions him to follow, they exchange a few
words in Chinese. A third Chinaman follows, and Wu motions for both of them to
follow him into a small shack)
(Cut to Jarry, sleeping in a chair in the telegraph
office. Blazanov sits in front of the telegraph, which suddenly starts
clattering. Jarry arouses, and
Blasanov is writing out a message)
(Cut to Wu and his men in the alley. They approach a
large Chinaman and one of them distracts him while the other attacks him from
behind, hitting him with an axe, killing him. They run away. Mr Lee comes out,
hearing the commotion, and fires his pistol, hitting one of Wu’s men in the
back. Mr Wu steps out and confronts Lee, yelling at him in Chinese.
)
(Mr. Lee, pistol raised, marches down the alley. Mr. Wu, growling, approaches Lee. Johnny, a butchered pig draped
over his shoulders, passes the alley and sees the commotion as Mr. Wu runs
toward Mr. Lee, grabbing a meat cleaver on his way.)
MrWu: Lei!
Lei! Lei! Ahh! (He throws the cleaver down, takes his hat
off and takes the tie out of his hair, letting his hair
down.)
Johnny:
(Running up behind Wu) Jesus Christ!
MrWu:
Saht ngo! (Taps chest) Saht ngo! (He displays his long hair.)
Johnny:
All Chinese but Wu stay put!
MrWu: (Spits and screams at Lee) Saht ngo! (Lee holds his ground, pointing his gun at
Wu)
Johnny: Wu!
Wu! Wait a minute, Wu! I will fucking drop you! (Johnny grabs Mr. Wu, restraining him, his
pistol in his hand.) Wu, get with me here!
(Johnny pulls Mr. Wu up to the back door of
the Gem, Wu is yelling at Lee all the way..)
MrLee:
Nei tong bok gwai!
Johnny:
Exactly because of this bullshit.
MrLee:
Nei tong bok gwai!
Johnny:
Or I’ll blow your tall Chinese head off!
Hey, Davey, open the door.
(Cut to the Bullock house. All the shades are drawn
in mourning. Seth is sitting in the front room, facing the darkened window.
Martha brings him a cup of coffee.)
Seth:
Thank you. (Martha sits, he takes a sip.)
Mmm. (He raises the cup to her, indicating he likes the
coffee)
(Bella
union, Con sits in the Bella Union, staring up at the wall. Tess sits at a table behind him,
reading. Leon walks up next to Cy,
who is about to eat to breakfast.)
Leon:
Wu’s reappeared, Mr.
Tolliver. His and Lee’s chinks went
at it. Looks like one dead
apiece.
Cy:
Whence the fuck did Wu reappear? (Con stares at the bison head on the
wall.)
Leon: (Laughs) It seems to me like he just
fuckin’ materialized.
Cy: From
the clouds or in some type conveyance?
Leon:
Make me choose, I’ll pick the clouds.
One minute he ain’t by his sty.
The next glance, there he is.
Then one man’s dead by ax—Lee’s man. One by bullet.
Cy:
Wu’s.
Leon:
From Lee’s pistol. Then Wu and Lee
are comin’ after each other like stags until Burns drags Wu into the
Gem.
Cy: Drags
Wu into the
Gem?
Leon:
Burns does, yes Sir, pointing his pistol at Lee.
Cy: Could
Wu have issued from the Gem, as well?
Leon: I
wouldn’t say he didn’t.
Jack: (Entering from the street, approaches Cy.)
Larson—that I got the dollar in with—says he just brought George Hearst to
camp, Sir. (Cy stops eating and looks at
Tess.)
Cy: Some
of us don’t know better might mistake me for bein’ on the outside lookin’
in. Then you got your idle snatch
readin’ scripture and know there’s still hope. Con Stapleton!
Con: (Jumping up) Yes,
sir?
Cy: Situate yourself at the Grand Central and tell me
what fuckin’ Wolcott’s doin’ and who he’s doing it with.
Con: (gasps for breath) Yes, Sir, Mr. T. (He gasps again, looking up at the
bison.)
Cy: Can
the bison spare you?
Con: (sighs) Somethin’ strikes me fuckin’
melancholy about that creature.
(Al’s office, Dan, E.B, Mr. Wu, Johnny and Silas are
all there. Al slams his chair into
the desk, standing behind it.)
Al: One
more fuckin’ day! (Kicks Dan’s foot, E.B. tucks his legs up
into his chest as Al passes by.) That’s all he had to control himself and I
could have put him in fuckin’ business!
Wu:
Swedgin—
Al: Shut
the fuck up, Wu! (Leans against his desk, looking at Johnny)
At least he has an excuse. He’s
a chink. Who knows what the tribal
requirements are? (Looking around at the
others.) Maybe you don’t act for a week, maybe they exclude you from fuckin’
dominoes or the like. But you! (He punches Johnny in the face. Johnny falls) Tippin’ our fuckin’
business!
Johnny:
I’m sorry, Al.
Al: You
hold one chink off at gunpoint, bring him the fuck up
here!
Johnny:
I’m sorry.
Al: I’m
so fuckin’ pleased I trusted you, Johnny, to go out and buy meat! (he walks to his desk, kicking Silas on the
way) Get out of my fucking way.
Tell Hearst I want to see him. (Looks at E.B.)
EB: My
only reluctance, Al, I have had such an onset of diarrhea. (Adams snickers, Al looks sidelong at him
and turns back to E.B.)
Al:
E.B….
EB: If
the conversation’s brief I’m absolutely equal to the task. What shall I invoke as your
reason?
Al: How
about the fuckin’ truth? The chink
that attacked his chink has been captured by my employee. If it would please Mr. Hearst, I’d like
a word with him before I decide what to do with the chink in my
custody.
EB: But
you’d like it here?
Al: Don’t
you be settin’ fuckin’ terms,
E.B.. He’s got reason enough to want the
look-around.
EB: Fine
then! (He gets up and
leaves.)
Al: (sighs) Go lock him up somewhere in the whore’s
quarters. You might think to put a
fucking guard on him—that ain’t asleep you incompetent fucks! (Thye all get up to go, Johnny lingers.)
Johnny:
It wasn’t my watch he escaped on, Al.
Al: Go
away, Johnny.
Johnny: I
was 10 to 4.
Al: Shut
the fucking door!
(Johnny leaves.)
(Bullock house, Martha and Seth are still sitting,
staring at the windows.)
Martha: Would you still be willing, Mr. Bullock, to see me
take up the teaching of the camp’s children?
Seth: I
would, yes. I’d be delighted. (Martha smiles)
Delighted.
Martha: I
don’t want to lose him but I wouldn’t upset them either.
Seth: I
see.
Martha:
They’re daunted enough by schooling itself.
Seth: Oh,
yes.
Martha: I
am speaking of wearing mourning until the year has passed. (Seth nods) But I…believe if I teach
them with…love and joy, then I won’t make them afraid. And I don’t want to lose
him.
Seth: (Turns his head to her) You’ll never
lose him. (He looks back ahead, reaches
out his hand and grabs hers. They sit, 2 feet apart, holding
hands)
(Grand Central dining room, Wolcott and Hearst are
sitting down to eat)
Hearst: Are we done with our buying,
Francis?
Wolcott:
All but one of the important finds.
Hearst:
Ah, I have 40 stamps and a millwright coming in from the Ophir. (Con is at the oatmeal, trying to listen to
Wolcott.)
Wolcott:
I have the mill sited, the ground tiled and leveled. (E.B. snoops from behind the stairs.)
The Garret find we don’t yet own is not placed to obstruct
operations.
Hearst: I
want it bought.
Wolcott: I believe its title will be contested in coming
months. To act now would buy the
contest and not the find.
Hearst:
All this fiddle fuckin’ around is tactical back-and-forth. (chuckles)
Wolcott:
We’re up and running, Mr. Hearst.
With the millwright and double shifts we should be full bore inside the
week.
Hearst:
Gettin’ it out of the ground, that’s what I love. Thank you for handling the acquisitions,
Francis.
EB: (Muttering to himself) “Excuse me, Mr.
Hearst. Might I…escort you…across
the thoroughfare to meet a local luminary?”
Wolcott:
Will you be joining me at the operation this morning?
Hearst: I
may this afternoon. This morning
I’m conceding to my back. (E.B.
approaches.) This fellow looks like he stepped out of a specimen
box.
EB:
Excuse me, gentlemen. (Con casually leans
on the wall nearby, trying to listen) Um, forgive me for interrupting your
repast. I’m E.B. Farnum, Mayor and
Hotelier. And I know you are George
Hearst. (Wolcott looks
irritated)
Hearst:
Yes?
EB: (Leans forward, hands on the table, raising
his leg behind him) Allow me a moment’s silence, Mr. Hearst. Sir,
I am having a digestive crisis. And
must focus on suppressing it’s expression.
(Wolcott conceals a
chuckle.)
(Hardware store, Ellsworth is entering and
muttering)
Ellsworth: What’s next—pink fucking panties or something? Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. I can’t fucking do
it.
Customer:
And I’ll have a look at one of those pans.
Sol: Not
now. Tomorrow I’ll make you a
price. This is the prospective
groom for today’s prospective wedding and I’m going to wait on him now in
privacy. (The customer nods and
leaves.)
Ellsworth: Oh, I’m surprised you have any trade left, often as
I clear the joint. (pants)
Sol: What
can’t you do?
Ellsworth: Any of it!
It feels like.
Sol:
Oh—
Ellsworth: (Walks to
the counter) These fuckin’ mittens in particular. “Traditional” the fuckin’ tailor
says. Well, not in my experience
they ain’t. And if I was to imagine
where they might be, amongst males about to marry ain’t what comes to my
mind. Look at these
cocksuckers! (He holds them up) Lavender. “The rigor in New York City”, whatever the fuck that
means.
Sol: Have
you brought up not wearing them?
Ellsworth: What if they’re her idea? That’s liable to bring the dromedary to
its knees. (He puts the gloves back in a
silver case, shuts it and picks it up.) Christ. I’m in mortal
misery.
Sol:
Anyways. (He sighs, Ellsworth turns to
leave) Today’s the day!
(Sol smiles as Ellsworth walks out, shaking his
head.)
(Gem saloon, Al is descending the stairs. Davey is wiping off a
table.
Al: Going
to the weddin’, Davey?
Davey:
Not hardly, Mr. Swearengen. I
wasn’t invited.
Al: I
was, not that I’m goin’. Vicious
rumors I was responsible for her first husband’s death. Fuckin’ woman invites me to her
weddin’.
Davey:
Guess it’s no accountin’ for why people do things.
Al: The
congregation…(walks over, grabs the rag
from Davey’s hand and slaps it down on the table. He puts his hand on Davey’s
shoulder) says Amen,
Davey. (Slaps his shoulder, they start walking
around the room, Al guiding the way.) Consider the
Chinaman.
Davey:
Wu?
Al:
Hmm. Forsakes safety and even odds
in a future fight for immediate fuckin’ dubious combat. Here again, what gets into people’s
heads?
Davey:
Uhh…the congregation says Amen. (They
stop)
Al:
What?
Davey:
Nothin’. I-I was bein’
funny.
Al: No no
no. Don’t be fuckin’ funny with me,
Davey. (He chuckles, they walk
again.)
Davey: I
didn’t mean to interrupt your train of thought. (They stop)
Al:
What?
Davey:
Nothin’, Sir. (Al swings around and grabs
Davey by the neck.)
Al: Did
you loose that Chinaman to fuck up my fuckin’ plans? (Davey shakes his head.) Don’t lie to
me, Davey, or that breath you’re holdin’ is the last you
draw.
Davey: (choking) Can I
speak?
Al: Go
ahead.
Davey: I
need to breath. (Al lets
go)
Al: Go,
take a breath.
Davey: (gasps)
I fuckin’ fell asleep, Sir, on my
fuckin’ watch over the Chinaman.
Al: He
didn’t pay you to let him go?
Davey:
No, I fell off to sleep from the holding of three jobs.
Al: He
told me he paid you.
Davey:
Then he’s a lying fuckin’ bastard!
(Hearst and E.B. enter. Al looks back at Davey and grins, softly
slapping Davey’s cheek. He escorts
Davey back to the table he was wiping.)
Al: Don’t
fall asleep, Davey, hmm?
Davey:
No, Sir.
Al: Quit
a job before you fall asleep on it. (Hands him the rag
back.)
Davey: Yes, Sir.
EB: There
he is. That’s Mr. Swearengen. (Al walks over)
Hearst:
Yes, I see.
Al: Now I
call this an impressive contingent.
Would you be Mr. Hearst?
Hearst:
Yes, Sir.
Al: Al
Swearengen. How do you do? (They shake
hands)
Hearst:
Pleasure to meet you, Mr.
Swearengen. (Dan & Johnny are entering in the
hallway)
Al:
I’ll suggest we adjourn to my
quarters. (He starts for the
stairs)
Hearst:
Your kill, Sir? (Looking at an elk on the wall. Al turns
around)
Al:
Who?
Hearst:
The animal.
Al:
Oh no. Fuck no. I’m a fucking terrible shot. I work better closer
in.
EB: I’ll
stay below, gentlemen. Unless you
wish me up above? (Al just looks at
him. Hearst heads upstairs, moving
stiffly.)
Al:
Hurt back?
Hearst:
(groans) Just a little achy
today.
Al: Declinin’ years spare us no fuckin’ indignities. My latest blessing’s a horse apple up my
fuckin’ asshole. Half my wakin’
hours are spent tryin’ to pass water.
Dan, bring that Celestial to my office! I want to show him to Mr. Hearst. (Dan walks back down the hallway as Al &
Hearst enter his office.)
EB:
Very auspicious beginning!
(He nods and smiles at
Silas.)
(Al’s office, Al pours two shots while Hearst looks
around.)
Hearst: I’d think with these balcony doors open, you’d get
a-a little cross draft in the summer.
Al: I do
indeed.
Hearst:
I’ve spent the last summers in Mexico.
Al: Oh,
that fuckin’ heat must be oppressive.
Hearst:
Ho ho.
Al:
Nevada’s was drier I expect.
Hearst:
Have you been there?
Al: My
inferno was Australia. Wasted two
years that was. (There’s a knock at the door.) Yeah,
come in. (Al nods at Hearst. Dan enters, restraining Wu by the hair.)
Here we are. This yellow
monkey’s Wu.
Hearst:
Older fella. Not often you can tell
how old they are.
Al: Done
a turn or two for me, Wu has. And
well-liked enough among his own.
His display against your chink
(He grabs Wu’s braid, Wu grunts) was
my first fuckin’ inkling that he’s
irrational.
Hearst:
Mr. Lee, the man he tried to kill, has worked well for me in several
camps.
Al: Then
God bless Lee and off with fuckin’ Wu’s head! You’ve got your finger on the cause of
it too—your chink bein’ forward-looking.
“Set the bodies ablaze, on with the day’s trade!” This one bein’ longer in the
tooth—
Hearst:
Set what bodies ablaze?
Al:
Custom holds stronger to what passes for his mind.
Hearst:
What bodies, Mr. Swearengen?
Al: The
whores for your workers. Not only
does burnin’ the corpses save cargo space far as the transporting of their bones
back to the homeland—which, as I gather, they hold as their big fuckin’ chance
at the afterlife—what a tremendous tactic, terrifyin’ the unburned
here.
Hearst:
Do you know prospecting, Mr. Swearengen?
Al:
Fuckin’ nothin’ of it.
Hearst:
And the securing of the color once found?
Al: (shaking his head) Not a fuckin’
thing.
Hearst: All I really care about.
Al: I
fuckin’ hope so. I’d
hate to think you’re this good at somethin’ that’s only a fuckin’
hobby.
Hearst:
Most often my finds are in wild places, which I prefer. When that is not so, I want friendly
relations with my predecessors so that I can secure the
color…undistracted.
Al: (tapping his temple, smiling) Concentration,
see. I suspect that’s a key with
you hugely successful types.
Hearst: If others can provide here, with less disruption to
the camp, services Lee provided me elsewhere, I’d have no objection to using
them.
(Al stands across from Hearst, Mr. Wu between them,
darting his eyes from one to the other, trying to figure out what’s going
on.)
Al: Labor
bein’ the fuckin’ essential?
Hearst:
Towards securing the color.
Al: (Pointing his thumb at Wu) This is the
camp’s original chink. All
subsequent chinks were his imports.
Wu will staff your mines. (Hearst looks curiously at M. Wu) And those that survive the explosions,
he can place in laundries or kitchens.
Hearst: Can he understand us?
Al: Oh,
very little English. No, no words
we’ve employed so far. Say
“cocksucker,” Wu.
MrWu:
Cocksucka. (Hearst chuckles.)
Al:
That, San Francisco and Swedgin,
that’s all I’ve heard him use.
MrWu:
Swedgin—
Al: Shut
up.
Hearst:
Now—as to your man and mine, I would need some demonstration before making my
final choice. Uh…your man would
have to prove out.
Al:
That’s a fuckin’ mining term. Now
that’s a fuckin’ expression I’ve heard.
Hearst:
And you understand it’s import and context.
Al: (nodding) Yes,
Sir.
Hearst: It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Swearengen. (Holding out his
hand)
Al:
Honor and a pleasure meetin’ you,
Mr. Hearst.
(Hearst leaves, Al strokes his chin, Dan shuts the
door behind Hearst. Al walks over
to Mr. Wu.)
Al: Kill
a rooster, Wu, and offer him up in sacrifice. Then start honing your weapons for
tonight’s demonstration.
(He picks up both shots and drinks one, a grin on his
face.)
(Gem whores quarters, two whores lounge in the
hallway, Trixie, in one of the rooms, yells.)
Trixie: Stick me one more fuckin’ time, Jewel, I’ll drop you
in a pool of fuckin’ blood!
Jewel:
Well, you just can’t stand still.
Trixie:
I’m movin’ tryin’ to defend my-fuckin’-self! (She looks in the mirror, brushing off her
new pink dress with one hand, holding a cigarette in the other.) He’s
gettin’ what he asked for anyway.
(Jewel takes something out of her
pocket.) Looney fuckin’ Jew!
Jewel: (Hands Trixie her old brooch) Wear
this. (She smiles as Trixie takes
it.)
Trixie:
Devious fuckin’ cripple, you are. (Jewel grins) How’d you pay that time
then for the gun I sent you to buy?
Jewel: (shrugs) Sold a piece of pussy.
(She grins as Trixie puts on the
brooch.)
(E.B. & Hearst step out of the Gem, walking along
the thoroughfare.)
EB: How
may I serve you further, Mr. Hearst, be the fashion great or
mean?
Hearst:
Make a price on your hotel. Mr.
Wolcott says you avoid it.
EB: May I
quibble with “avoid,” Sir, as inexactly fitting the case? (shoos a rider aside) Not all—get over!
(shoos another rider away) Not all
not-makings-of-a-price are avoidances necessarily, would you
say?
Hearst:
What will you take? (He steps in closer
to E.B.)
EB: (Throwing
up his hands) Get away from me, God
damn you! (He backs away, hand to his
mouth in shock.) Forgive
me. (Sits on a stump, falls backward into the
muck) Excuse
me. I-I am mad. My hotel is also my hospital. I am my own warden. I mustn’t sell, lest I then wander the
thoroughfare gibbering like a simian…brandishing my privates in my fist. (Hearst crouches down in front of E.B., who
is gasping for breath.)
Hearst:
Will you take 100,000 if I let you
stay on as manager?
EB: Yes,
Sir. I must, of
course.
Hearst:
I’ll have it sent over later. (Hearst gets up and
turns.)
EB: Well,
where am I? (Hearst turns back, E.B.
laughs.) Why—why am I on my ass? (chuckles)
(Hearst spits and walks
away.)
(Al’s office, Jarry is there with a paper in his
hand)
Hugo: May I say to you that the week since our meeting has
seen me conduct with Yankton an active telegraphic correspondence which on every
count has ameliorated the terms of the proposal before you (sets it down) in favor of the Deadwood
camp?
Hugo: I have
worked so hard and diligently for you, Mr. Swearengen, that well may be the
case. (Al holds up a magnifying glass to
the paper) Regardless of the outcome, I am proud of that
advocacy.
Al:
Having said that, are you liable to say more?
Hugo: Let the document now speak for itself! (Al resumes reading through the magnifying
glass) The letters may get larger, (tilts his head) the numbers will
not. (snickers – Al frowns) Forgive me. Long hours, giddy at the smell of the
barn. (Al glares) Stoic composure. (He puts his hands together in prayer-style,
holding them to his mouth. He
quickly folds them under his chin.)
The next sound you hear will be that of your own
voice.
Al: Get
the fuck outta here! You’ll know
when I’ve come to an answer.
Hugo: I
must tell you I require a response within the hour. (Al slides the paper back) Or as soon as
humanly possible. (Jarry slides it back
to Al.)
(Jarry gets up and leaves, nodding at Al on his way
out.)
(Chex Amie. Jane is wearing one of Joanie’s
robes.)
Jane: Clam-on-a-half-shell-looking-goddamned fool! (yells) I’m embarrassed to say I know
you! (normal) Supposed intelligent
woman holding with rank superstition. (Mose coughs, Joanie enters the room,
holding some clothes.)
Joanie:
The same clothes worn to nuptials
the week of a memorial curse bride and groom forever. (Mose coughs)
Jane: Shut up, Mose!
Joanie:
He asked for work here.
Jane: As
what?
Joanie:
Watchman is what he suggested.
Jane: We’re a vacant
structure, in case he ain’t fucking noticed.
Joanie: I
think he shrinks from leavin’.
Jane: And the word
for that is malingering.
Joanie:
(Holds up bloomers for Jane)
Here.
Jane:
I will
not.
Joanie:
You will.
Jane: Is that part
of the superstition?
Joanie:
Undergarments, Yes! Over privates
in layers or bride and groom are doomed.
(Jane holds the bloomers up to herself
skeptically.)
(Bella Union, Con is
entering.)
Con: Hearst is at that claim, mid-thoroughfare—the one you
bought form Marvin Somes.
Cy: Still
in the company of Farnum?
Con: No,
Sir. Ahh…they left the Gem,
conversed a bit, Farnum fell over backwards. Hearst then helped him back to his feet,
then uh, then the two parted company.
Cy: That
makes a lot of fuckin’ sense, Con.
Well done. (He gets up and starts
to leave.)
Con:
Uh, Farnum then, uh, returned to his
hotel. They’re readying for them
nuptials. You know, Ellsworth and
the widow Garret’s! (Cy’s gone) Guess
that’s the last Ellsworth will be seeing of a placer cradle. (Tess looks at him briefly, then back to her
bible. Con looks up to the bison
head.) Set for
life!
(He gasps for air, clutching his crotch, looking up
at the bison.)
(Al’s room, Al is reading the proposal from
Yankton. There’s a knock at the
door.)
Al: Yeah?
(Silas pokes his head
in.)
Silas: Davey said you wanted to see
me.
Al: Get
in here. (Silas closes the door) And
help me parse Yankton’s proposal.
(Silas reads over his shoulder.)
We study…(Silas read over Al’s
shoulder) for our fuckin’ lives.
(In the street, Hearst in down in the open mine that
has been working there. Men are working the pump and cradle while Hearst taps at
a rock with a pick. Cy
approaches. Hearst throws the rock
down and climbs out of the hole.)
Cy: Three
hours in camp, goin’ straight to explorin’ her vitals. Cy Tolliver, Mr. Hearst, that’s acted
for your interests at one or several removes these last couple
months.
Hearst:
How do you do? (They shake) Did you
buy me this hole?
Cy: Off
Marvin Somes, Sir, yes, I did.
Hearst:
She’s outta color, boys. Let’s fill
her in. (He passes Cy and heads down the
boardwalk, Cy follows.)
Cy:
I was told to act on all
offers.
Hearst:
You did well, Mr. Tolliver. We want
to be comprehensive.
Cy: I,
uh, have been in the mud a bit for you myself, Mr. Hearst. I had my shovel out covering work of
your Mr. Wolcott.
Hearst:
Thank you for that.
Cy:
Scooped and scrubbed and cleaned up the guts and gore ‘cause I do what the
business requires.
Hearst:
Ah, there’s my hotel.
Cy: The
camp elders called a meetin’ in the aftermath. Barely time to wash my hands before I
talked them into washin’ theirs.
Hearst: I
have been traveling, Sir. (He stops)
Why don’t we resume after I’ve rested? (Cy chuckles, they
walk)
Cy:
Well, I guess I can manage a while
longer to keep the whiff off of him.
(Hearst turns) Suspicion, Mr.
Hearst, off your geologist Wolcott for cuttin’ three whores’ throats.
(Hearst pauses, smiles, turns and leaves without
speaking)
(Ellsworth scrapes his teeth, preparing for the
wedding. He grimaces as he scrapes,
slips and hits his gum. He groans
in pain.)
Ellsworth:Oh, cocksucker.
(He spits into the sink.)
(On the street, Alma is walking down the boardwalk,
alone. We hear her thoughts in voice-over)
Alma:
I don’t
know why I seek you out. If lying in the ground you can think or have
feelings, you may hate me and my part in your fate as I sometimes hate you for
bringing me here. Though I know
your bringing me was the end of something whose beginning I had as much a part
of, certainly, as you. I am
afraid. I am so afraid that my life
is living me, and soon will be over, and not a moment of it will have been my
own. And of how my body now tells
me that is fine and right. (She pauses in sight of the graveyard)
Perhaps I confide to you because you cannot tell anyone. (She turns and heads back) I am to have
a child, and I have a child in my care.
He is a good man. And he
whom I love is here as well.
(Hearst’s room at the hotel. Wolcott, smoking a cigar, is seated by
the door. Hearst knocks on the
wall.)
Hearst: These walls are comin’ down.
Wolcott:
They’ll be your walls soon.
Hearst:
Ever since I was a child in Missouri, I’ve been down every hole I could
find.
Wolcott:
Boy-the-earth-talks-to.
Hearst:
Yeah, I’ve told you—that’s what the Indians call me.
Wolcott:
Yes.
Hearst:
It talks to you too, Francis. I
know. Our time together, your
hearing has stayed keen. But this
gambler, Tolliver, who was our agent for securing the claims has spoken to me
about you. (Wolcott taps his cigar, uncrossing his
legs, looks a bit nervous.) He says that you’ve killed women. Prostitutes. That he has disposed of the bodies for
you. (Wolcott fidgets with his cigar) Well!?!
(Wolcott drops the cigar in the ash tray,
startled.)
Wolcott:
(pauses, nods) When I was in
Campeche. You wrote a letter on my
behalf.
Hearst:
To the Jefe de Policia.
Wolcott:
“I am aware of Mr. Wolcott’s difficulty.
You will find me personally grateful for any adjustments you may make in
his case.” (Hearst looks at him.) What did you
think that was about?
Hearst: I
didn’t think about it. You were my
agent in Mexico! You had many
responsibilities. You asked me for
the letter and I wrote it!
Wolcott: As when the earth talks to you particularly, you
never ask its reasons.
Hearst: I
don’t need to know why I’m lucky!
(He turns, leans on the wall with
one hand.)
Wolcott:
What
if the earth talks to us to get us to arrange its
amusements?
Hearst:
That sounds like goddamned nonsense to me.
Wolcott: Suppose to you it whispers, “You are king over
me. I exist to flesh your
will.”
Hearst:
Nonsense.
Wolcott:
And to me…”There is no sin.” (Hearst
turns) It happened in Mexico and now it’s happened here.
(Hearst walks over to a chair next to Wolcott and
sits. He spits into a spittoon on
the floor next to him. He
pauses.)
Hearst: We must end our connection, you understand that,
Francis. Make a severance you think
fair. You know I won’t
quibble. (Angry, he leans forward, looks back at
Wolcott.) Does some spirit overtake you? Is that what you mean by the
“talk”?
Wolcott:
(shaking his head)
No.
Hearst:
It tells me where the color is.
That’s all it tells me. My
God.
(Wolcott sniffles.)
(Al’s office, he and Silas work on the
proposal)
Silas: This has to be a date certain. “Timely fashion” means fuckin’
nothin’.
Al: (Urinating) Timely fashion means when they got the fix
in.
Silas:
So when do you want the
elections?
Al: The
sooner the fuckin’ better.
Silas: Six
weeks?
Al: (groans) No more! (He buttons up.)
Silas: Far as
bringin’ ringers in, a period of residence would be a nice shiv to stick in
their fuckin’ ribs.
Al: And
now you’re using your fuckin’ noodle.
How do we put that into words? (walking over.)
Silas: “Period of
Residence.”
Al: Are
you being smart with me?
Silas: How would you
put it?
Al:
“Period of residence not less than” what?
Silas: Two
weeks.
Al: “No
one is eligible to vote unless they’ve been two weeks in the
camp.”
Silas: Unless
committed to dump in our favor.
Al: I’d
like to get this fuckin’ thing done.
Silas: (writes) “Has not been two weeks in
camp.”
Al: (sits)
Now I’ll tell you what the fuck
else. And it makes me weep to say
it. Take out the fuckin’ 50 from Yankton to
us.
Silas:
(leans back) Shall I urge you to reconsider?
Al: We
get this thing off the ground, I will be without peer of robbin’ these
cocksuckers senseless. I don’t want
the foundin’ document recordin’ a fuckin’ bribe.
Silas: (shrugs) Strike number four from the
original, with disgust it was even brought up.
Al: What
else? (Silas sniffs and shrugs) Summon that cat-piss-smellin’
fuckhead and his holiness the Sheriff.
(Al walks out onto the balcony, teacup & saucer
in hand. He sees E.B. and
Richardson preparing the porch of the hotel for the celebration. Andy is studying his bible on the porch,
Jarry stands nearby.)
Al: Commissioner!
(Raises his teacup) Shall we
chat?
(Jarry steps forward as Merrick snaps a picture, he
hurries to the Gem. Al looks down
and sees Sol and Trixie step out onto the
thoroughfare.)
Al: Aw,
ain’t you two a fuckin’ picture? (They look up) Oh, Trixie, you, uh—save
me a trip. (Tosses a letter from his jacket pocket down
to her. Sol picks it up from the
mud.) You shoulda let it hit her in the schnoz, reminder her of her escorts
in days past. That’s a gift for the
bride, from her child’s former tutor in absentia. Whirlin’ her around’s okay, Star. Just don’t tread on her fuckin’
toes! (Adams walks out of the
Gem) Adams! You saw Yankton’s
hypocrite, huh? (Silas nods) Just his holiness. And we’ll have a
quorum.
(Silas leaves, Al goes
inside.)
(Hearst’s room, Capt Turner is putting cash into a
satchel. He turns and looks at Hearst when he
finishes.)
Hearst: Oh, go ahead and take that to him, Captain. Thank you.
(Turner nods and leaves. Hearst sighs. Turner goes downstairs, E.B., spotting
the satchel, dusts off the counter.
Turner sets the satchel on the desk. E.B. sniffs, Turner sneezes, turns, and
looks at the offending flowers.)
EB: Bless
you. (Turner goes outside. E.B. grabs the satchel and runs back in
his private room) Bless
you. Bless you. (giggles) Bless
you.
(He shuts his door.)
(Gem saloon, Al descends the stairs. Tom Nuttall is
sitting at a table, drinking alone.)
Al: I’m
in the day’s fuckin’ talents, Tom.
Nuttall: There’s talk of an offer on my
place.
Al: (leaning on the banister) How will you
answer?
Nuttall: I came to take counsel with you.
Al: Drunk
or sober is my question.
Nuttall:
Well, I have my wits about me, Al.
Al: (Walking over) Maybe then—you’ll want a few more,
huh? (Sits, raising the bottle)
Nuttall:
Don’t talk to me in fucking riddles.
Al:
Drunk, Tom, for reasons not to do with business, you’ll sell. If that’s your decision, let me offer. Sober, you know sellin’s
stupid.
Nuttall:
What’s my reason not to do with business?
Al: Use
your own fuckin’ faculties.
Nuttall:
(sighs)
Remorse.
Al: Over
that boy that was not your fuckin’ fault.
(He readies to pour Tom another
drink) Again?
Nuttall:
(Covers the glass) Not right now. (Al puts the bottle down.) Ellsworth…and the widow Garret, what
odds would you have made on that?
Al: Every so
often there’s a love match.
(He puts the cork in the bottle, Tom laughs heartily
and Al joins in a chuckle, he gets up.)
(Bullock house, Silas is on the porch. Seth comes
out, putting on his gun.)
(Grand Central lobby, the wedding party has gathered. A mandolin is tuning, Jane and Joanie
hold some flowers, Jane is fidgeting.
Merrick nods to them. E.B.
is in his office, clutching his satchel, leaning up against the door looking out
the peep hole.)
EB: (high-pitched voice) Isn’t it time to start the
ceremony?
(Richardson is in a suit, trying to hide his antlers
under the jacket. The mandolin
starts to play the wedding march and he looks up, taking off his hat. Sofia comes down the stairs first,
followed by Trixie. E.B. tip-toes
into his office, clutching the satchel.)
EB: (Speaking to the satchel)
And
now, my dear lady, shall I part thou leather lips? (He flicks his
tongue.)
(Alma comes down the stairs. She stops in front of Andy Cramed. Merrick, Doc, Joanie and Jane look on,
Richardson in the background. Andy
motions for Ellsworth to stand next to Alma. Sol is beside him, Trixie beside
Alma with Sofia in front of her.
Ellsworth nervously joins Alma.
Joanie taps a fidgety Jane.)
Jane:
(whispering) It’s the damn underwear.
Andy:
Dearly beloved, we are
gathered together here in the sight of God and in the face of this company to
join this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which estate instituted of God
at the time of man’s innocency, signifying unto us the mystical union that is
betwixt Christ and his Church.
(Al’s office, Jarry looks over the amended proposal,
Seth standing behind Al.)
(As the wedding proceeds, we cut back and forth
between the lobby and Al’s office as the wedding is
recited)
Andy:
Therefore, not to be entered
into lightly but reverently, discretely, advisedly, soberly and in fear of
God.
(Jarry slides the proposal back to
Al.)
Andy:
If any man here can show just
cause why they may not be lawfully joined together, let him now speak or else
hereafter forever hold his peace.
(Al slides the proposal back to Jarry. The wedding party looks on as Ellsworth
and Alma unite.)
Andy:
Whitney Conway Ellsworth…wilt
thou have this woman to they wedded wife, to live after God’s ordinance in the
holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou
love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health, and
forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her as long as you both shall
live?
Ellsworth: I will.
(Cut to Wolcott’s room, he is seated writing a
letter.There’s a large coil of rope on the chair next to
him)
Andy:
Alma Russell Garret…wilt thou
have this man to they wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in
the holy estate of matrimony--?
Alma: I
will.
Andy: Uh,
continuing. Wilt thou obey him and
serve him, love, honor and keep him in sickness and in health, and forsaking all
others, keep thee only unto him as long as ye both shall
live?
Alma: I will. (Merrick wipes away the
tears.)
Andy: Who giveth
this woman to be married to this man?
Sol: I do.
Both.
(Cut to the street, Charlie rides his horse into
camp.)
Andy:
Say after me, “I, Whitney
Conway Ellsworth—“
Ellsworth: I Whitney Conway Ellsworth,
Andy: “Vow to love,
cherish and protect…
(Jarry and Al discuss the
proposal.)
Ellsworth: Vow to love, cherish and
protect…
Andy:
“Till death do us part
according to God’s holy ordinance—“
(Seth walks around the desk and sits next to
Jarry.)
Ellsworth: Till death do us part according to God’s holy
ordinance…
Andy: “And thereto I
give to thee my troth.”
Ellsworth: And thereto I give to thee my
troth.
Andy: Say after me,
“I, Alma Russell Garret,”
Alma: I, Alma
Russel Garret,
Andy: “Vow to love,
cherish and obey—“
Alma: Vow to
love, cherish and obey…
Andy: “Till do us
part according to God’s holy ordinance—“
(Hearst’s room, he has taken up a sledge hammer and
pauses, cradling it)
Alma:
Till do us part according to
God’s holy ordinance…
Andy: “And thereto I
give to thee my troth.”
Alma: And thereto I
give to thee my troth.
Andy: The
ring.
(Sol reaches into his pocket and gives Ellsworth the
ring. Ellsworth slips it on Alma’s
finger and holds her hand in his.)
Andy:
“With this ring I thee
wed.”
Ellsworth: With this ring I thee wed.
Andy: Those whom
God has joined together let no man put asunder.
(Cut to Bullocks house, Martha is looking over
William’s garden.She finds a small sprout from one of his sunflower
seeds)
Andy:
For inasmuch as Alma and
Whitney have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same
before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth each
to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving a ring and
joining hands, I now pronounce that they are man and wife.
(We hear loud pounding and plaster falling from
upstairs, the wedding party looks up – confused. E.B., in his office, is laying on his
back wiggling his feet in the air, rolling in his money. Hearst is knocking doen a wall in his
room The mandolin plays as Doc
congratulates Alma. The party
claps.)
Ellsworth: We ask all to join us for collation and dancin’ in
the thoroughfare. (Joanie kisses Ellsworth’s
cheek.)
(Al’s office. Jarry, Seth and Al are still going over
the amended proposal.)
( Ellsworth and Alma dance in the street. Jane, arms crossed, wanders about.
Merrick is taking photos)
(In a whore’s room, Dan, Silas and Johnny get dressed
in Chinese garb)
Dan: Shit! (Jen laughs) What’s so fuckin’ funny,
Jen?
Jen:
Nothin’. (She
leaves)
(Mr. Wu enters with a basket. He claps
twice.)
Dan: Who
are you fuckin’ clappin’ orders at, Wu?
You only got us on loan.
Wu: (Picks up some masks) Ming hoi. (Hands Johnny a mask) Ming
hoi.
Silas:
Oh, for Christ’s sake! (Takes a mask)
Johnny: I
guess in for a penny, in for a fuckin’ pound.
Wu:
Swedgin. (shrugs)
Dan: He
wouldn’t allow it if I went up and asked him.
Wu:
Swedgin! (Dan takes the mask. They all put them
on.)
Johnny:
(To Silas) Do you wanna swap
masks?
(Silas shakes his head. Wu claps twice. Dan tests an ax as Wu hands one each to
Johnny and Silas.)
(In the street, Trixie and Sol dance, Joanie and Jane
are standing together other. Joanie
watches the dancing, Jane looks around, spots a man staring at Joamie and
punches him.)
Jane:
What the fuck are you looking
at?
Man: I wasn’t fuckin’ lookin’ at
you!
(Joanie pulls Jane back over, the song ends and
people clap. Alma and Sofia curtsy
to Ellsworth, who bows to each of them in return. They walk to the porch. The tailer hails
Ellsworth.)
Tailor:Mr. Ellsworth, was I right about the
gloves?
(Ellsworth raises a gloved hand. The music starts back up. The crowd dances on, Trixie and Sol join
hands and start sashaying.)
(Hearst’s room, he sits across a table from Cy. Two gold sacks are sitting on the table
between them.)
Hearst: Full and final payment, Mr. Tolliver, for what
service you conceive you’ve rendered me.
Cy: The
Lord himself would testify to me havin’ served you, Mr. Hearst, (chuckles) and to what should be my just
reward. Oh—(puts a hand to his ear) is that the
cocksucker addressing us from the fuckin’ whirlwind? “George Hearst, Cy’s just
reward…every claim he helped you buy he’s in for 5%. (smiles at Hearst) Cy, as I’ll sometimes
be busy elsewhere, take your own fuckin’ precautions you’re fairly treated. Should George try to fuck you, Wolcott’s
letter gets broad circulation.”
Hearst:
Tell me what letter you mean.
Cy:
George asks what letter you refer to Lord.
(hand to ear) “That you, Cy,
before you disposed of them whores, made that murderin’ geologist write once he
told you George knew of his habits.”
(Cy stands) Disturb you bein’
in the public eye? Some don’t
mind. (Waves his hand) Fuck, some men like
it. But I wonder if you’re among
‘em.
Hearst:
Stop movin’ your hand, Sir. I mean
you know harm, but I can’t speak for Captain Turner. (Turner steps forward, revealing the gun at
his hip.)
Cy: “Put
your hand down, Cy.” I hear you, Lord.
(puts both hands on the table –
sighs) The press bein’ sold-out cunts, it hardly matters that a story’s
true, but one like this that is, sportin’ a man like you, and fucked-up
geologist and whore dug up from shallow graves with their throats slit from ear
to ear, and the same to their poor privates—what’s that Lord? (chuckles) Would you, Lord? You dirty-minded cocksucker. He says he’d follow a story like that
Himself. 5%. Your interests seen to by one that
controls his appetites. (Claps his hands as if done, then Cy
leaves.)
Hearst:
You’d first want to know from Wolcott if there is a letter. (Turner leaves)
(In the street, Merrick is taking pictures. Wolcott
stops on the street to look over the party. Jane and Joanie are standing with
Andy)
Jane:
You got your quiver full of
words again, don’t you? (Andy chuckles)
I found him in the woods. All’s
he could say was “I’m sorry.” (Cy steps out onto the hotel porch, looking
on.)
Joanie:
First I knew Andy, all’s he could say was “deal.”
(Cy looks irritated, he steps off the
porch.)
(Cut to chink’s alley. Mr. Lee is lying on his back,
clouds of opium smoke swirl around him.
There’s a whore on top of him.
Wu and the disguised crew walk onto chink’s alley. Wu taps Dan on the shoulder and
points him to a hut. Dan checks it
out and shakes his head. They keep
walking. Johnny trips. A group of Celestials are gambling in an
alley, they fight over their bets.
They don’t notice as Wu points the gang in their direction. Johnny axes one guy in the back. Dan gets another. One of the gamblers runs up and grabs
Dan from behind, a knife to Dan’s throat.
Silas runs up kills Dan’s attacker.)
(Jarry signs the deal, slides it to Al, stands and
shakes Seth’s hand. He leaves. Al holds his hand out to Seth, they
shake. Seth leaves and goes
downstairs to the bar as Jarry exits.
He knocks his fist on the bar for a drink. Al comes out of his
office.)
Al: Davey, tell Merrick to go ahead and print. (He walks back into his office, Seth drinks
a shot.) (Back in Al’s office) Fraught with contingencies, Chief, is our
fuckin’ electoral process. (sits) Will his holiness climb into a
bottle or pursue the widow, stiff-pricked, the miles to her Hot Springs
honeymoon? (He looks at the box next to
him.) Who’ll bear the local’s banner then, huh?
(Chez Amie, Doc is with Mose. He motions Mose to
follow him, taking his arm to help him up.
He motions Mose over to the doorway, opening up the doors. He steps onto the porch and begins to
demonstrate a breathing exercise.
Mose joins in on the next one.)
(In the street,
Cy approaches Andy, talking to Tess.)
Cy: Most
men, Andy, once they’ve brought one fuckin’ plague to the camp would lay the
fuck off. Not you! No, you’re gonna
bible-talk my whores.
Andy: God is not
mocked, Cy. (He steps up to Cy, reaching in his pocket,
Cy grabs his shoulders.)
Cy: You
got a pestilence for every fuckin’ occasion! (groans)
Andy: God is not
mocked, you son of a bitch! (He pulls his knife out of Cy’s belly and
walks away. Cy, shocked, grabs his
stomach.)
Cy: He
fuckin’ --gutted me.
Joanie:
See to him, Honey. (Tess runs over to
Cy.)
Cy: I
ain’t gonna die! (He gasps, Tess grabs
his arm, guiding him away.) Don’t let me die.
(Joanie watches as he is led
away)
(Mr. Wu rises up from the side of the bed next to Mr.
Lee and slits his throat. Wu,
shouting, drags the blonde whore outside and shoves her away. Lee lays bleeding as the smoke rises in
plumes. The gang leaves the
alley.)
(Doc shakes Mose’s hand, turns and leaves. Mose continues his exercise. He steps out in front of the
building. As Doc walks away, he
skips merrily to the music. Mose
turns back to the doorway, does one last breathing exercise, and goes inside. At
the same instant, we see Wolcott’s body drop from the 2nd floor of
the livery across the street.Wolcott hits the end of his rope and snaps back
into the air, then swings back and forth.)
( Charlie is at the party now, looking around. Smiling, he approaches Jane’s side. Jane, arms crossed, glares straight
ahead while Charlie laughs and looks at Joanie)
Jane:
Welcome the fuck
back!
Charlie:
Miss Stubbs. (Tips his
hat)
Joanie:
(laughs) Mr.
Utter.
(Al steps onto the balcony with a bottle in one hand
and the box in the other.)
Al: They
dance on, Chief, however much at home, (sets the box down) as at yours and
mine, comfort and love await. (He sees Silas, Dan, Johnny and Wu
approach.) Unhurt…it appears.
Dan:
Don’t hold for them that went against us.
Al: I
should hope fucking not. (looking at Wu) How’d he
fight?
Johnny:
He gave a good fuckin’ account, did Mr. Wu.
Al:
Lee?
MrWu: San
Francisco cocksucka—(draws his finger
across his throat)
Al: Well
done then, men. And well done,
Adams, the day’s full course, indoors and out.
Silas: (pants) Thanks,
thanks.
Dan: (punches
Silas in the shoulder) You saved my
bacon in that fuckin’ alley.
Silas:
Jesus Christ! (Rubs his
shoulder.)
Dan:
Fuckin’ Adams. (The three go inside. Wu steps up, looking up at
Al.)
MrWu:
Swedgin!
Al: All
right, Wu.
(Mr. Wu holds his knife out to Al, reaches back and
grabs his braid, he slices it off and holds it up.)
MrWu: Wu!
America!
Al:
That’ll hold you tight to her tit.
MrWu: (Holding crossed fingers up to Al) Heng dai.
(Al returns the gesture.)
(We see Wolcott’s hat sitting in the dust. His shadow swings over it. Turner steps onto the porch and sees the
body swinging.)
( Merrick is running through the party crowd with his
new edition of the paper.)
Blazanov/Merrick: Elections are coming! Elections are
coming!
Merrick:
Territorial governor agrees to local elections!
Blazanov:
Elections are coming!
(Seth is still drinking at the Gem bar. Davey is cleaning up. Al comes out onto the inner
balcony.)
Al: Don’t
you have a fuckin’ home to get to?
(Alma steps out onto the hotel porch. The tailor
approaches.)
Tailor: Right this way, Mrs. Ellsworth. (Ellsworth steps to her side.) Bart,
help Mrs. Ellsworth onto her wagon.
(Sofia pulls Ellsworth out for
another dance.) There we
go. Help her up there!
(Alma steps up, Ellsworth and Sofia dance a jig. Trixie hands Alma the letter from
Al. Ellsworth swings Sofia around,
holds his arms open and she jumps into them. He hoists her up and they climb into the
wagon.)
(We see Tom playing spoons with the band. Seth walks down the boardwalk, looking
over the crowd.. The music comes to
an end as Alma catches sight of him.
Their eyes meet. He smiles
at her.)
Al: (Watching Seth from his
balcony) I believe it’s to your
fuckin’ right. (Seth continues
home.)
Jane: Hey,
we ain’t done fuckin’ dancing!
(The crowd claps in rhythm, the music starts back up
again. Blazanov is dancing with
the Gem whores cheering him on. Merrick has his head in the camera as
Jen grabs his crotch. He looks up
with surprise. Next we see Charlie, Jane and Joanie
square-dancing. Doc is with Jewell,
and they are dancing Al is on the
balcony, tapping his fingers to the music.)
Click to hear the music from the credits
Written
by: Ted Mann
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
Mose Manual: Pruitt Taylor Vince |
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
Mr. Wu: Keone Young
Joanie Stubbs: Kim Dickens
Con Stapleton: Peter Jason
Wiliam Bullock: Josh Eriksson
Francis Wolcott: Garret Dillihunt
Blazanov: Pavel Lychnikoff
Steve: Michael Harney
Richardson: Ralph Richeson |
Transcription last updated on 02/06/2007 | |
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