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Episode #1 - "Deadwood"

Montana Territory
May, 1876

(Night. A gallows stands in the empty dirt street of a town. The camera pans to the left,
and we notice bars on the windows of the building that the gallows is in front of, the jail.)

(Next, the interior of the jail. Sheriff Seth sits at his desk, writing. He pauses, and the
camera shifts focus from his face to someone standing behind the bars of a cell at the
rear of the room. The prisoner is Clell Watson.)

Clell: Is that some sort of a letter, marshal?


Seth: Journal.
Clell: Good. You know, I was goin' to Deadwood, same as you.
Seth: Is that so?
Clell: I had my plans about set. I only wish to Christ I could get these past three
days back.
Seth: I can imagine.
Clell: (Appearing to consider something) No law at all in Deadwood? Is that true?

(Seth nods slightly, and takes his cup over to the wood stove to pour himself some coffee.
He's wearing a sling to support his right arm, which is injured.)

Seth: Bein' on Indian land.


Clell: So then you won't be a marshal?
Seth: Takin' goods there to open a hardware business. Me and my partner.
Clell: If I'd a got there, I'd a been prospectin'. Jesus Christ Almighty. No law at all.
Gold you can scoop from the streams with your bare hands. And I gotta go
and fuck myself up by supposedly stealing Byron Samson's horse.
Seth: It's poor damn timin' at the least.

(Seth walks over towards the cell with two cups of coffee, and places one on a table next
to the cell where Clell can reach it.)

Clell: Thank you very much.


Seth: You're welcome.
Clell: I'm sorry as hell about your shoulder.
Seth: Flesh wound. Don't look like it wants to infect.

(Seth walks back to his desk and sits in the chair.)

Clell: Well. Never mind flesh wound, sir. When you are goin' to meet your maker,
you don't feature tellin' him you shot a marshal in the shoulder for only doin'
his legally ordained job.
Seth: He may have heard worse stories.
Clell: God? Well if he ain't, I'll tell him six, or seven, just on people of my own
personal acquaintance.

(Clail and Seth both smile at that.)

Clell: I'd like to suggest an idea to you, sir, that I pray as a Christian man you will
entertain on its own fuckin' merits.

(Seth stands and walks back over to the cell bars.)

Seth: Does it involve lettin' you go?


Clell: I know two scores, Mr. Bullock, that we could make in transit without movin'
20 feet off our path. People with cash on hand. And if once we hit Deadwood
and you didn't want to have anything to do with me, we'd never speak again.
We would meet as strangers the rest of our fuckin' lives. Now, you tell me
what you think of that, sir.

(Seth doesn't say anything, but has a slight smile on his face, like he's amused.)

(Suddenly, the front door of the jail opens, and Sol enters. Seth turns toward Sol, then
back to Clell, and his face is serious once more.)

Seth: (To Clell) It don't appeal to me.

(Seth walks over to meet Sol at the desk. Clell is upset about being interrupted.)

Clell: (To Sol) Get the fuck out of here for a moment would you, sir?
Sol: (To Seth) Byron Samson's comin' for him.
Clell: (To Sol) Sir, would you please get the fuck out of here 'til we have finished
our previous conversation?
Seth: (To Sol) How many in his play?
Sol: (To Seth) A dozen, shit faced. Samson just caved in Tommy Raymond's head
over at the no-name frog. He went against it.
Clell: What are you two conversing at?

(gunshot) (From outside)

Clell: Jesus Christ!


(male): (From outside) Come out and talk to us, Bullock!

(Seth walks over to the barred front window and looks out. A group of men armed with
guns are standing in the street. Some carry lit torches.)

Clell: Now who is that? That sounds like ah, Byron Samson.
Seth: Yeah.
Clell: What would he want?
(Seth removes his arm sling and turns to look back at Clell. Clell smiles sadly.)

Clail: Now tell me what kind of fuckin' luck I got.


Byron: (Yelling in to Seth) All you're doin' stallin', Bullock, is pissin' me off! Cause I
guarantee you ain't makin' it through in there till sun up! So why don't you
climb out from behind your badge, and your big brick building, and you bring
Clell Watson out here so we can give him what he fuckin' deserves!

(Sol drives his and Seth's wagon, loaded down with supplies, from behind the jail, and
stops the wagon next to it. He's armed, and aims his gun at the men in the street.)

Byron: Well what do we got here?


Sol: Whoa!
Byron: It's a Jew on a wagon.
Sol: (Yelling so Seth can hear him) Yeah, right out here in the alley!

(Seth, followed by Clell, comes out the front door of the jail and stands on its porch.
Clell's hands are tied behind his back and he wears a noose loosely around his neck. Seth
is holding the rest of the rope.)

Seth: I'm executin' sentence now and he's hangin' under color of law.
Byron: You and your partner plan on makin' Deadwood, marshal, do not try for this
scaffold.
Seth: That's a deal you loud mouthed cocksucker!

(Seth throws the rope over an overhead support beam at the front of the porch.)

Byron: You hear this?


Clell: Ohh wait, this ain't right. My sister was comin' in the mornin'.
Seth: What would you have her told?

(Seth kicks a stool across the porch so it rests under where the rope is looped.)

Clell: (Looking down) That's not enough of a drop.


Seth: I'll help you with the drop. Now get up and say what you'd have your sister
told.
Byron: Do not tether that rope off of that porch!

(Clell steps up on the stool and Seth ties off the end of the rope, securing it.)

(gunshot) (From Byron's gun)

Seth: Anymore gunplay gets answered. You called the law in, Samson. You don't
get to call it off just 'cause you're liquored up and popular on payday.
Byron: And you don't get to tell us what to do and what not to do. 'Cause you're
leavin' Montana anyways! Now do not jump off that stool, you cocksucker!
Clell: (To Byron) Or what? You'll kill me? (To Seth) You tell my sister, if my boy
turns up, raise him good.
Seth: What else?
Clell: Tell her, give him my boots.
Seth: What else?
Clell: Tell him, his... daddy loved him. Tell him, he asks God's forgiveness.
Seth: Anything else?
Clell: You help me with my fuckin' fall!
Seth: (Gesturing with his hand) Come ahead.
Clell: (To Byron) Fuck you!

(Clell steps off the stool, and his feet kick as he strangles.)

Clell: (groaning)

(Seth grabs Clail around his legs and yanks down firmly. Clail dies quickly. Seth looks at
Sol and sniffs, puts his gun down, and pulls out a piece of paper and something to write
with. Byron starts to walk towards Clail's body.)

Sol: (To Byron) Stay back!

(gunshot) (From Sol's gun)

Sol: Move the fuck back, while my partner... while my partner's takin' his sweet
ass time writing whatever the fuck he's writing over there!
Seth: (To the men) Who'll give his last words to the sister?
Byron: (To the men) None of you better fuckin' move!
Toady: Shit! I'll do it!

(Byron's toady walks forward to Seth, and Seth gives him the piece of paper with Clell's
last words, along with Seth's badge.)

Seth: (To Toady) Thank you. (To Sol) Let's go.


Sol: (To horses pulling the wagon) Hee!

(Seth, holding his gun, climbs up and holds onto the back of the wagon as it pulls away.
Fade to black.)

-----

(cow mooing)

(shouting)

(Day. A wagon train has stopped. Calamity Jane walks towards us past some wagons,
back to the wagon in which we see Wild Bill Hickok lying on his back on some furs, as if
sleeping.)

The Black Hills


July, 1876

Jane: Same damn wagon that broke down yesterday, Bill!


Bill: That's the holdup, huh?
Jane: Same wagon and no damn room to maneuver.
Bill: Sounds like it's tighter out there than a bull's ass in fly season.
Jane: How's your headache?
Bill: Not bad.
Jane: You want me to canvas for whiskey?
Bill: That's alright Jane.
Jane: Believe me, we're stuck here a fuckin' while.
Bill: I know your canvassing techniques. I don't want any casualties on my
conscience.

(Jane gets down off the back of the wagon.)

Jane: (Yelling to no one in particular) It's only Wild Bill Hickok you got stalled
here in the muck! You ignorant fuckin' cunts.

(Jane starts walking towards the stuck wagon, as Charlie Utter, who is driving Bill's
wagon, looks on.)

Jane: What a goddamned circus! Shit.

(male): Let's go!

(Jane stops and looks down the hillside at the trail in front of them, and her eyes follow
the trail until it winds into a camp at the bottom of the hill. Welcome to Deadwood.)

-----

(Deadwood. Day. Seth drives his and Sol's wagon, still loaded with goods, down the
street through the center of the crowded camp.)

(Come on, now. Come on, now. Come on.)

Sol: (Trying to get Seth's attention) Seth! Seth! Hey, Seth!

(Seth pulls the wagon over when he sees Sol standing at the side of the street.)

Sol: This lot rents at 20 a day, Seth.


Seth: $20 a day.
(Dan Dority is standing next to Sol.)

Dan: (To Seth) Tent only, no construction.


Sol: (To Seth) Corner location.

(Sol looks up at Seth, and they nod to each other. Sol takes out money to give to Dan.)

Dan: In advance, every morning, to Mr. Swearengen at the Gem.


Seth: Where's the Gem?
Dan: You'll find it. Everybody does.

(Seth looks around and sees the balcony of the Gem, with its canvas sign. A few whores
stand on the balcony.)

-----

(Inside the Gem. Al is holding some gold in his hand, and talking to Ellsworth at the bar.)

Al: 8 ounces of gold at $20 an ounce is a 160, plus $10 for a half-ounce is a 170
total.
Ellsworth: (Cheerfully) Inform your dealers and whores of my credit, and pour me a
goddamned drink.
Al: (Also cheerfully) Honor and a pleasure my good man. 170 credit, Dan, for
Ellsworth.
Dan: Yes, sir, 170 for Ellsworth. I'll let everybody know.

(Dan puts some money on the bar.)

Dan: (To Al) Lot four, some hardware guys.


Ellsworth: (Drinking a shot) First one today with this hand. (To Al) And pour me
another, my good man.
Al: Here comes another. (To Dan) Lot four a stayer?
Dan: (To Al) Wagon loaded with goods.
Ellsworth: (To Al) Now, with that Limey damn accent of yours, are these rumors true
that you're descended from the British nobility?
Al: I'm descended from all them cocksuckers.

(Dan looks over and smiles a little at that.)

Ellsworth: (Raises his glass to Al) Well here's to you, your majesty. I'll tell you what.
I may a fucked my life up flatter than hammered shit, but I stand here before
you today beholden to no human cocksucker. And workin' a payin' fuckin'
gold claim. And not the U.S. government sayin' I'm tresspassin' or the savage
fuckin' red man himself or any of these limber dick cocksuckers passin'
themselves off as prospectors had better try and stop me.
Al: They better not try it in here.
Ellsworth: Goddamn it, Swearengen, I don't trust you as far as I can throw ya, but I
enjoy the way you lie.
Al: Thank you, my good man.
Ellsworth: You're welcome! You conniving, heavy thumbed motherfucker.

(gunshot) (From upstairs)

Ellsworth: Watch out!


Al: (To Dan) That's her Derringer. I warned you about that loopy cunt!
Al: (To Ellsworth, still sitting at the bar) Keep your own tally!

(Al grabs a gun and the cash box, and he and Dan rush up the stairs.)

Ellsworth: (Pouring himself a drink) Oh, have no fear on that score.

-----

(Upstairs in the Gem, in one of the bedrooms. Trixie is seated and crying, Al and Dan are
there, and so is Trixie's john, who is sitting on the floor, against the wall, shot through
the head from side to side. The john's still alive.)

Trixie: I said not to beat on me! I told him.


john: Ticonderoga, New York, Barnett Robinson...
Dan: (To Trixie) You got any other guns?
Trixie: No, I don't got anymore.
john: Ticonderoga, New York, Barnett Robinson. Ticonderoga, New York. Do you
find it? Barnett Robinson.

(Al is looking through the pockets of the john's coat, trying to find something. He finds
the paper the john is going on about.)

Al: (Reading off the paper, to the john) Barnett Robinson.


john: That's who to notify if this thing goes wrong.
Al: Yeah, I've got it right here.

(Johnny comes into the room, followed by the Doc. Doc walks over to the john and
crouches down next to him.)

Doc: How you doin', Trixie?


Trixie: I told him don't beat on me, Doc!
Al: (To Trixie) No one asked for your version!
Trixie: (Very upset) I robbed him and then he started in beatin' on me. And I didn't
rob you.
john: (Mumbling to the Doc) I don't remember.
Trixie: I didn't, goddamnit!
john: (Pointing at his wounds) Ah, she shot me right in the head.
Doc: (To the john) D-D-D-D-Don't. Don't put your fingers in it.
john: Ah, ah, yeah, is it bad, Doc?
Doc: Shhh, shhh, shhh.

(labored breathing) (The john stops breathing.)

Al: (To Dan) Get the Chinaman!


Doc: Sure would like to know how he lasted for 20 minutes shot straight through
the brain.
Al: So prospect in him, 'til Dan brings the Chinaman.
Doc: Do you mind if I take him to my place?
Al: Sure. Johnny, help the Doc with this guy. (To Dan) Bring the Chinaman to the
Doc's.
Johnny: I'll bring that sled right in, Doc.
Al: Doc, you drink free today. And I hope any word of this would keep the gun
out of the whore's hand.
Doc: That wouldn't come from me.
Al: Bastard did himself in.

(Al grabs Trixie roughly and pulls her to her feet.)

Al: (To Trixie) Come here.


Trixie: (To Al) I said to stop.
Al: (To Trixie) Tell me in my office. (To Johnny, who has returned with the sled)
Get the gimp to clean this place up.

(Doc sticks a thin probe completely through the john's head, temple to temple. Johnny
sees the probing.)

Johnny: (Disgusted) Aww, Doc!


Doc: You know there's something peculiar about this man's cerebral setup where
they can just write off the forebrain as being the center of thought and speech.
Johnny: Let's just get him on the sled.
Doc: (Smiling just a little) Of course it ah... won't matter to Mr. Wu’s pigs.

-----

(Back at the stalled wagon train, Wild Bill climbs down from the back of the wagon.)

Bill: Whiskey. Got an urge to see that camp, Charlie.


Charlie: Alright.

(whipping sounds) (Jane's cracking her whip, with a small crowd gathered watching
her.)
Charlie: Can we leave you with the stock, Jane? Bill and me gonna ride on ahead into
camp.
Jane: (Puts her whip away and walks over to Bill and Charlie) I expect I'll be there
before sundown.
Charlie: Well, we'll know where to find ya.
Jane: (To Charlie) What in the hell do you mean by that? That I enjoy a fuckin'
drink? I wasn't aware that's outlawed?
Bill: (Trying to make peace) Thanks for lookin' at the stock, Jane.
Jane: (Smiling at Bill) 'Scuse my ill humor. Certain people wear on my fuckin'
nerves.

(Bill and Charlie walk over to their horses and mount up. Jane takes a seat at the front of
the wagon.)

Bill: She likes me better than she likes you.


Charlie: I wish to hell I knew what I ever did to get on that woman's wrong side.

(Bill and Charlie ride off down the trail. A covered wagon with a family pulls up next to
Jane, going in the opposite direction. It's the Metz family: Pa M, Ma M, and three young
daughters.)

Jane: (To the Metz's) Do you know a back way into the camp?
Pa Metz: Whoa.
Ma Metz: (To Pa Metz, speaking foreign language) (To Jane) We don't go to the camp.
We go home... back to Minnesota.
Jane: You probably got the right idea.

(Jane smiles and clucks her tongue, as though to get the Metz's horses moving again. She
notices the youngest daughter, Sophia, and Sophia smiles back at Jane. The Metz's
wagon continues on its way.)

-----

(Deadwood. Day. Seth and Sol are unloading their wagon. Some asshole is upset with
them for taking so long.)

Asshole: Jesus Christ almighty, move it! I can't get to my spot until you finish. You got
me circling my wagon like a fly around shit.
Sol: (Trying to be nice) We're pretty near done. We gotta long wait, same as you.

Asshole: This the first wagon you ever fuckin' unloaded! Hold onto my horse. I'll show
you how to do it!

(Wild Bill Hickok and Charlie Utter stop and listen to this exchange as they ride down
the street.)
Seth: (Trying to be as nice as he can) We know what we're doing. Put your hat back
on and stick with your wagon.
Asshole: And what if I don't?
Seth: (Tired of being nice) Stand there mouthin' off and you'll find out.
Sol: (Trying to make peace) Sir, have a commode for your inconvenience.
Asshole: You think I'm gonna pay for that?
Sol: No, that's free, from Star and Bullock Hardware, open in Deadwood soon as
we locate.
Asshole: (Not quite as cranky as before) Hurry up and get finished.

(The asshole leaves. Wild Bill and Charlie continue on their way.)

Sol: (To Seth) My father's last words there in Vienna... before he passed away, was
"Sol, lose a can and buy the goddamned fool could slow it down and sell 'em
at retail."
Seth: I gotta put a book together of your old man's deathbed sayin's.
Sol: That was Wild Bill Hickok just ridin' past us, Seth. I seen him in photographs.

-----

(Al's room in the Gem. Al and Trixie are talking alone.)

Trixie: He lost his stake gamblin'. He told me before he passed out. He said he lost
his stake and he hadn't found no gold and he was goin' back east after one last
piece of pussy.
Al: None of that's anything to me.
Trixie: He wakes back up, starts in beatin' on me. "Where's his stake? Where's all his
money?"
Al: You call Danny, you call Johnny.
Trixie: Must've been me took it from him.
Al: You don't shoot nobody 'cause that's bad for my business and it's bad for the
camp's reputation. (Examining Trixie's bloody nose) He beat the living shit out
of you, didn't he?
Trixie: (Closes her eyes against what's coming, because Al's about to give her
another beating.) Do what you gotta do to me.
Al: (Yelling) Don't tell me what to do. (Al throws Trixie against the wall, and she
collapses to the floor.) Either way this comes out, we'll only have to do it
once. What's it to be, Trixie?

(gasping) (Al is pressing his boot against Trixie's windpipe so she can't breathe.)

Trixie: I'll be good.


Al: Alright now.

-----
(Interior of the Grand Central Hotel entrance. E.B. Farnum is behind the front desk, and
looks up to see Wild Bill Hickok and Charlie Utter walk in the propped-open front door.)

EB: (To Bill) We heard rumors you might be comin', but you can't believe every
rumor. We heard you might be comin' from Cheyenne.
Bill: Here I am.
EB: If every rumor was true, we'd all been scalped now by the Sioux. Or the
government would've tossed us out as treaty violators. (E.B. pauses and smiles
awkwardly, then turns to Charlie.) E.B. Farnum. How do you do?
Charlie: Charlie Utter. You got some mighty clammy hands there, partner.
EB: Damp palms run in my family. (To Bill) Here to prospect, Mr. Hickok, or on
other business?
Bill: I'm here to get a room.
Charlie: Ah, could we get two? We're ah, worn out lookin' at each other.
EB: Separate rooms. I'll arrange that by tomorrow, but today I can't fix it. (To Bill)
Unless you kill a guest. (chuckling)

(Bill is not impressed.)

-----

(Later that day. Al's office. Al, E.B., and Johnny are there.)

Al: Wild Bill Hickok. Nothing can ever be simple.


EB: He didn't speak of havin' law man ambitions, Al.
Al: Starting right the fuck with Custer gettin' himself massacred, it's been one
thing after another. Leaves the godless, savage cocksucker Sioux on the
warpath. (Dan Dority enters the room.) If that long haired loud mouth had
held his end up, we could be operatin' here in peace.
Dan: The New York dude's downstairs, Al.
Al: Did he order whiskey?
Dan: Yeah.
Al: Did he down it, or is he sippin' at it?
Dan: He's sippin'.
Al: Why'd I even ask, huh? (laughing) (To E.B.) Go get Tim Driscoll. Make sure
the dude sees you leave.
EB: What should I tell Tim?
Al: Tell him to get over here. Tell him he's drunk, sorry for himself. Give me five
minutes, then you come back, do your part.
EB: Alright, Al. (He starts to leave, then turns around.) As far as Hickok, Al. If I'd
a pushed him any harder on his plans, I was afraid he'd shoot me.
Al: Go get Driscoll.
EB: Yes, sir.

-----
(Night. The hardware tent Sol and Seth have put up for selling their wares. Across the
street, some guy is yelling loudly, trying to sell his own wares. Seth observes from their
tent, then walks inside.)

Some Guy: (To people walking by in the street) Hand made! It's all hand made,
guaranteed!
Sol: (To Seth) It ain't like somethin's bein' foisted on 'em, they'll be sorry they
bought come sun up.
Seth: I know that.
Sol: These are quality items. They meet these folks' needs. They're bein' offered at
fair markup, and we're announcing their availability.
Seth: Got through Indian country, figures into the markup.
Sol: By us, at personal peril.
Seth: Let's go.
Sol: Comin' out with your fly down might strike the wrong note.

(Seth looks down. His fly is fine. Aw, he just needs to relax a little. Nice one, Sol. They
walk out through the front of their tent to begin their lives as salesmen.)

(loud chatter)

Seth: (To people walking by in the street) Come have a look, boys. Star and Bullock
Hardware and Mercantile just opened for business. We got boots to sell ya.

(People continue to walk right on by.)

Sol: Knee boots $10! Hip boots 15!


Seth: We got picks, pans, and shovels.
Sol: Picks at $12, shovels at 10 and pans at 8!

(Some people have stopped and are listening.)

Seth: We got plaster cradles, prospector's best friend.


Sol: Perfected at the Montana strikes!
Seth: We got chamber pots to sell ya. And if you don't know what one of those is,
the man livin' next to you will appreciate your findin' out.
Guy1: I'll look at your biggest size hip boot.
Sol: (Leading Guy1 into the tent to look at the boots) Got 'em right here.
Seth: We stand by our stock. Any item that don't do what it's supposed to will be
exchanged for one that does. And we'll be here for you to find us.

(A man (Soap Guy) in the group that has stopped at the hardware tent starts talking
loudly.)

Soap Guy: Sonofabitch! Man said I might get a prize. I'd paid 50 cents for this bar of
soap. There's a five dollar prize in the wrapper.
Guy2: Where'd you buy that soap at?
Soap Guy: (Points) Man standing right over there.

(Seth walks over to Soap Guy.)

Seth: Front your game away from our tent.

(Soap Guy's smile disappears, but he touches his cap respectfully and walks away.)

Soap Guy: (As he's walking away) Cash prizes, every night's case of soap.
Guy3: (To Sol) Hey, store keep! Hold me some of those large hip boots 'til I get over
there and I'll pay you two dollars extra.
Seth: Set prices, boys. And first come, first to be served. (To Guy3 as he leads him
over to the tent) We'll get you squared away.

-----

(Night. Inside the Gem Saloon, Brom Garrett sips a shot of whiskey.)

(piano music)

(Al and Dan come down the stairs.)

Al: (To a man on the stairs who is feeling up a whore) No free feels in this house.
(To Dan, as they approach Brom) Brom Garrett of Manhattan. Scourge of the
Deadwood faro tables.
Brom: Don't think I confuse two nights holding good cards with being a faro shark.
Al: Two here, Dan. (To Brom, regarding his shot of whiskey) You ah, you see a
finish to that?
Brom: (After downing his shot) Did you hear Bill Hickok's in town?
Al: Oh, yes I did. Does that give you the vapors?
Brom: Are you mad about something, Al?
Al: I'm not mad about nothin'. All's I can tell you, Brom, things sort out fast in
Deadwood. And I vouched for you with Tim Driscoll two hours in here last
night when I gather you must have been home in bed, sleeping. End result?
Tim's just about got his claim sold to E.B. Farnum.
Brom: What? Where's Driscoll now?
Al: He ain't here, so I'd assume at his hotel.
Brom: You told me he's here by six.
Al: Well, he ain't yet.
Brom: Al, E.B. Farnum just saw me here and headed for the door.
Al: I wouldn't know how to interpret that.
Brom: I was doing the legwork, Al. I was doing the due dilligence. You tell me
Driscoll's got money troubles, and he's a motivated seller, fair enough. But
how did I know his claim's not played out? I had to do the legwork on that.
Al: I see, fair enough.
Brom: Oh, that's what I had to ascertain.
Al: Did you do the legwork?
Brom: Al. (Brom downs another shot, and pulls his hand out of his pocket holding a
piece of gold he retrieved from Driscoll's claim.)
Al: For God's sake, close your fist.
Brom: Cleaned up during the night with five more just like it. From claim number
nine above Discovery. Panned, at the Driscoll claim.
Al: All's I can say, Brom, while you were out winnin' the battle, I hope you didn't
lose the fuckin' war.
Dan: Al. (He looks towards the door, and Al and Brom turn to look, too. A bald
man swaggers into the saloon and up to the bar, ordering a shot.)
Brom: Who's that?
Al: Tim Driscoll. Shit faced. Let me handle the play.
Brom: My God, he is shit faced.

(Al is facing away from Brom, and he smiles.)

-----

(shouting)

(Night. Outside in the street, there's a fistfight going on. Wild Bill and Charlie walk past
and into the No. 10 Saloon. Tom Nuttall is tending bar, and Merrick, who is sitting at one
of the tables, stands up as the two men enter and approach the bar.)

Tom: (To Bill and Charlie) Boys.


Bill: Whiskeys.
Tom: Two whiskeys. I'm ah, I'm respectin' your privacy, not sayin' your name but I-
I certainly recognize ya. And I'd like to buy the first round.
Bill: (Nodding to Charlie, introducing him) Charlie Utter.
Tom: Tom Nuttall, Charlie.
Charlie: Tom.

(At one of the tables, Jack McCall is seated with two other men. One of them speaks.)

Man: It's Billy Hickok. I seen him kill Phil Coe in Abilene.

(Merrick has gathered his things from his table and approaches the group at the bar.)

Merrick: Ah, hey, A.W. Merrick, Mr. Hickok. Of the ah, Deadwood Pioneer.
Bill: We're drinkin' whiskey.
Merrick: Certainly. Certainly ah, whiskeys here, Mr. Nuttall.

Jack: (To the men he's seated with) Let me say one thing, before anybody opens
their mouths. I'm gonna say no more on the subject, and I'll be through for the
fuckin' evenin'. I'm not impressed.
Merrick: So ah, ah, what brings you to our camp, Mr. Hickock, ah... may I tell my
readers?
Bill: Warrant out on me in Cheyenne.
Charlie: Ah, get off of that now, Bill.
Merrick: Well, I suppose for a man like you, warrants are a vocational hazard.
Bill: You callin' me a professional vagrant?
Merrick: The ah, warrant was for vagrancy?
Charlie: (To Merrick) He's kiddin'!

(laughing) (started by Tom Nuttall)

Tom: Anyway in this camp, warrants don't count.

Jack: I'm tellin' you, he's not impressed, alright? And you may apply that to
whoever you feel may be my reference. But I intend to gut that sonofabitch at
poker whenever I get the chance.

Bill: (To Tom) You run that game, Can I buy 50 in chips?
Tom: I do, and you can. Just, settle up after you see how your luck runs.
Charlie: You feel like playin' now, Bill or you wanna take in the rest of the camp?
Bill: I feel like playin' now.
Tom: Draw and five stud. Dealer calls the game.
Bill: Sounds fair. See you later, Charlie.
Charlie: Alright, Bill.

(Bill walks to the back of the room and speaks to a group of men already seated at a
table.)

Bill: You boys mind if I sit in?


Boys: Not at all. Not at all, sir.

Merrick: (To Charlie) What a grand surprise. I never thought he'd live long enough for
me to meet him.

-----

(One of the bedrooms at the Gem. Jewel is tidying up, and Trixie is sporting some new
bruises, courtesy of Al.)

Trixie: (To Jewel) I need another gun.


Jewel: So in case they beat on you?
Trixie: Never mind what for. Just take this and get me another gun.

(Trixie hands Jewel a cameo pin.)


-----

(Downstairs at the Gem. Tim Driscoll is acting drunk and loud with a whore.)

Tim: Now Mabel, Mabel, get your ass across that table. This dollar is not for a
drink.
Whore: My name's Caroline.
Tim: Yeah, well you'll always be Mabel to me.

(Brom and Al approach Tim to speak to him.)

Al: (To Tim) Claim nine above Discovery, $14,000, yes or no? $14,000, yes or
no?
Tim: (To Brom) Alright, we'll make it 14,000.
Al: (To Brom) Spit in your hand. Spit in your hand.

(Tim Driscoll spits in his hand, but Brom hesitates to spit in his.)

Tim: (To Al, regarding Brom) What's his fuckin' problem?


Brom: Ah, nothing. (Brom spits in his hand.)

(Brom and Tim shake hands.)

Al: Done, witnessed.

(E.B. walks up to the three men.)

EB: (To Tim) Am I too late?


Tim: Mmmm. No, no, no, but your too late Farnum. I just sold to this, goose lookin'
fella for 14,000.
EB: (To Brom) Will you take 16?
Brom: (To EB) Ah, no, thank you, but no.
Tim: (To EB) What a fuckin' lyin' cunt ya are. Ah, 12 and a half thousand. That's
every cent I can get hold of, Mr. Driscoll. Yeah, and more than the claim is
worth, you said.
EB: (To Brom) 16,000, that's 2,000 profit, standing over a drink.
Brom: I believe events would prove that claim nine above Discovery was worth far
more than 16,000, Mr. Farnum.
Tim: Unhand me, Al. Though, you know of course, I haven't actually seen his
fuckin' money yet.
Al: I'm discountin' his bank note, Dan. There's $10,000. I'll waive four out of the
other sack right now.
Brom: (To Tim) You see, Al's holding a full faith letter of credit for $20,000 from the
Bank of New York.
Tim: (To Brom) Well, full faith is one thing, but until the money has actually passed
hands, you know, between us, the deal isn't done.
Al: (To Tim) The deal is done.
Tim: (To Al) The deal isn't done.
Al: (To Brom) The deal isn't done.
Brom: (To Tim) We spat in our hands!
Tim: (To Brom) What the fuck would you know?! Yeah, I fuckin' knock ya into the
middle of next fuckin' week. (To EB) Would you offer me the 16,000?
EB: I suppose, if you're open to further offers.
Brom: 16,500.
Al: Just what the fuck did you just do, Brom?
Brom: (To Tim) Will you close at 16,500?
Al: (To Brom) You just reopened the fuckin' bidding.
EB: 17,000.
Brom: 17,500, I'll go no farther.
EB: 18.
Brom: 19.
EB: 19,800, and that's every cent I can put together.
Brom: 20,000.
EB: Damnit. Damnit.
Tim: 20 once. 20 twice.
EB: (To Tim) I can't.
Brom: (To Tim) It's over. He's through. Is it over?
Tim: Alright. 20,000. Sold to the goose looking man, in the shiny suit.

(Brom and Tim spit in their hands and shake on it.)

Brom: I got it, Al.


Al: Yes, you did.

-----

(Inside the No. 10 Saloon. Bill is playing cards. Charlie sits at the bar, talking to Tom
Nuttall.)

Charlie: Comes to look for business opportunity, and sits there, losin' at poker.
Tom: Is he having a bad run? I can't see that far.
Charlie: You'd have to see back to Cheyenne. He lost his patience, stays in hands
whether he's holding cards or not. How's your crowd in here tonight, anyway?
Tom: Oh, it's alright.
Charlie: Well it's better than alright, and you know it. You could see that damn much.
Bill Hickok's an asset to any saloon. Any joint he frequents. You agree with
me on that or not?
Tom: You got a say in that? I mean, as far as where he drinks and gambles?
Charlie: S'pose I did.
Tom: Well... 50 a night if he'll frequent here exclusive.
Charlie: 50. What a sport you turned out to be.
Tom: Well you quote a figure.
Charlie: Well let's come to one understandin'. Any figure I would've come up with,
part of that you give to him to ah, gamble or piss away however else he's
gonna do it. And that'd be the only part he'd know about.
Tom: I'd work with ya.
Charlie: The rest you'd give to me to ah, hold in trust for his future.
Tom: Now that'd be your affair.
Charlie: Listen to me, that man's recently married. He needs to put a stake together.
That's all I'd be in this for.
Tom: I'd work with ya.

-----

(The Garretts' room at the Grand Central Hotel. Alma puts some drops of laudanum in
her drink. Brom strides into the room.)

Brom: Banish all headaches. Spit in your hand, Alma.


Alma: What?
Brom: Spit. I'm gonna show you something.

(Alma spits in her hand.)

Alma: Promise you'll tell my mother about this.

(Brom spits in his hand and shakes hers.)

Brom: I bought it. We own a gold claim. This is how we sealed the deal.
Alma: And then, did everyone dry their hands?
Brom: Do you know who I was bidding against? Farnum, who owns this hotel.
Alma: Oh, and where was your secret agent?
Brom: Dan Dority? He was tending bar. No one realized that Dan had helped me
reconnoiter the claim. Now Swearengen, runs the saloon, he was intermediary.
He brokered the deal. Driscoll, the seller, legless with liquor. You will have a
vivid entry for an article when I've told you all the details.
Alma: Yes, I've already begun to imagine it.
Brom: It's a near thing 'til the end. I had to go all our 20,000 to turn Farnum away.
Alma: Oh well.
Brom: I'll have to write the bank to renew my credit. Of course they'll contact father.
Alma: Well, I expect that's inevitable.
Brom: Wild Bill Hickok is here. I'm sure he's going to prospect, too.

-----

(pigs squealing)

(Wu carries the body of Trixie's john to the pig sty and dumps him in, splashing mud
everywhere. Johnny and Doc have followed and watch as the pigs enjoy their midnight
snack.)

-----

(Back at the Gem. Inside Al's office. Al talks to Tim Driscoll, while E.B. Farnum stands in
the background.)

Al: How much do you want?


Tim: But we agreed on 30%. 30% of 20 would be six.
Al: Mm-hmm.
Tim: So I want the 6,000.
Al: What's 30% of 14,000?
Tim: What the fuck, Al?
Al: Who told you to take him to 20?
Tim: Well, you know I could feel that he had more in him, I don't know, it was just
ah, spontaneous fuckin' feelin'. I knew that there was more to get.
Al: And you thought six more would be the jackpot. Take him from 14 to 20.
Tim: Oh Jesus Christ, you know, if you had further plans, I wish you'd a just said
somethin' to me.
Al: Should I tell you when I plan to take a shit tomorrow? Would that be none of
your fuckin' business?
Tim: So ah, 14,000. 30% of that's what, what is that, no, ah, 4,200.
Al: (Stares at Tim)
Tim: Well what the fuck arrangement do you suggest now?
Al: What do you suggest?
Tim: O-oh J-Jesus Christ almighty, you get in a mood like this and I just as soon as
not even discuss it. Look, let me just have 500, you know, and we'll discuss
the rest of it some other fuckin' time.
Al: Cash? Or credit at the tables?
Tim: Fuckin' time and try, the fuckin' English in you comes out. Fine. I'll have the
500 at the fuckin' tables, and Jesus Christ almighty.
Al: Are we holding markers?
Tim: Oh, you're holding markers, alright. You've been holding markers against me
and my kind for the past several centuries across both sides of the fuckin'
water. How the fuck do I know?! Ask Dority, he'll know better than me.
Credit it against the fuckin' markers, but just let me hold 20 in fuckin' cash.
Al: Tell Dan to give you 20.
Tim: And a piece of fuckin' pussy.
Al: Tell Dan, then tell him to come see me.
Tim: (To EB) And thanks for steppin' in on the side of rightin' fuckin' justice, you
deaf dumb bastard!

(Tim Driscoll leaves the room. E.B. walks over to Al.)

EB: I tell ya Al, you could've knocked me over with a feather when he took him to
20. Did you see me strugglin' to stay on the path?
-----

(Seth and Sol's hardware tent. They're speaking with Reverend Smith.)

Rev: My ah, wife and children are in Louisville, Kentucky. I'm, I'm, I'm saving to
bring them out. Days I dig on the Foster's water ditch and nights I watch folks'
goods like I'm going to do for you.
Sol: Schedule like that, Mr. Smith, seems like you'll have 'em here in no time.
Rev: And then Sabbaths I preach Christ's crucified and raised from the dead.
Seth: I'm from Etobicoke, Ontario.
Rev: So you were born in Canada.
Seth: I come to Montana when I was 17. That's when I met up with Mr. Star.
Rev: Is that so?
Sol: I was born in Austria.
Rev: Austria? Wonderful where people come from.
Sol: Well, I was born in Austria and then I, I grew up in Chillicothe, Ohio.
Rev: And you partnered with Mr. Bullock in Montana.
Sol: That's where we partnered up.
Rev: The Lord is our final comfort, but it's a, it's a solace having friends. I know
that from past experience. You sure sold up a storm here tonight, didn't you?
Sol: We did alright.
Seth: We'll be a few hours, Mr. Smith. We want to look around the camp.
Rev: I will watch your goods as if they were my own.
Sol: Thank you, Mr. Smith. Thank you.

(Seth and Sol walk out of the tent, into the almost-deserted street, and immediately notice
a man on a horse, Ned Mason, who stops when he sees them.)

Ned: (To his horse) (whoo) (To Sol and Seth) I seen a terrible thing tonight.
Seth: What'd you see?
Ned: I seen white people dead and scalped and... man, woman, and children with
their arms and legs hacked off.
Seth: Where? How many dead?
Ned: Well, it was a whole family on the road to Spearfish. Oh my God, it's them
heathens, bloodthirsty savages.

(The Reverend Smith has heard Ned talking, and has joined Seth and Sol in the street.)

Rev: How many was it died?


Ned: It was a whole family... they was hacked and mutilated. The parents, two
children.
Rev: The Metz family took the Spearfish road, going home to Minnesota.
Ned: Then that was probably them then.
Rev: They had three children.
Ned: Were there three? There could have been three, 'cause they was that hacked
and spread around.
Rev: Rest their souls.
Sol: Rest their souls.
Ned: Yeah.
Seth: (To Ned) You probably need a drink.

-----

(Inside the No. 10 Saloon. Wild Bill and Jack McCall are playing cards with two other
men.)

Jack: You call my bluff, Hickok? I was tryin' to run one. Whoa! Wait on Mary. I got
a third eight under there.
Dealer: (To Jack) Three eights wins, your pot.
Jack: Oh, I absolutely did not realize that.
Dealer: Your chips.
Jack: Here I am, thinkin' I'm fuckin' bluffin' the third eight, and I mistakenly
outdraw the greatest gunfighter in the world.
Bill: Meaning the third eight?
Jack: What?
Bill: Sayin' you outdrew me? You meant the third eight.
Jack: Well, what else would I have meant?
Bill: Say it. Then we'll play cards.
Jack: Third eight's what I meant.
Bill: Deal.
Dealer: Ante's up, same again.
Jack: Jesus Christ ah, can we shake hands or somethin'? Relieve the atmosphere? I
mean, how stupid do you think I am?
Bill: I don't know. I just met ya.

(At the other end of the No. 10 Saloon, Merrick is talking with Tom Nuttall and Charlie
Utter.)

Merrick: Paradoxes, the massacre at Little Big Horn signaled the Indians' death throes,
Mr. Utter. History has overtaken the treaty which gave them this land. Well,
the gold we found has overtaken it. I believe within a year, Congress will
rescind the Fort Laramie Treaty, Deadwood and these hills will be annexed to
the Dakota Territory, and we, who have pursued our destiny outside law or
statute, will be restored to the bosom of the nation. And, that's what I believe.

(Seth, Sol, and Ned enter the Saloon.)

Bill: (To a man at his table) Does bosom mean tit?


Man: Same thing.

Ned: Ah, ain't nothin' against y'all fellas, but I'd as soon do my drinkin' gettin' a
piece of ass.
Seth: First you want people to know about that family.
Ned: Yeah, well, what harm is it in me meetin' my needs before I circulate the
news?
Seth: What if the third child's alive?
Ned: You listen, mister, it was a massacre. I'm the one who saw it. And they ain't
no one was alive.
Seth: Did you see the massacre or not?
Ned: I told you I got there afterwards.
Seth: So, by then the child could've got away from where you saw those other
bodies? Or the child could have been hiding and so afraid of who you might
be, it didn't call out.
Ned: You listen to me, I ain't goin' back out there again tonight, so you better mind
your own goddamned business!
Sol: You're sayin' a family's massacres by Indians on the road to Spearfish and one
child may still be alive out there and it's no one's concern in this saloon?
Charlie: What's this about a massacre?
Ned: Shit. Goddamn it, I ain't goin' out there again tonight after I just made camp
with my scalp by sheer, dumb fuckin' luck!
Bill: Ride out and show us the place. I'll guarantee your scalp. (To Seth) You ridin'?
Seth: Yeah. (Nods towards Sol) We'll ride.

(One man, Jimmy Irons, who has overheard what has happened, hurries out of the
saloon.)

Merrick: Ah, may I ride? I'd be honored to ride, infirmities permitting.


Seth: (To Ned) Here we go.

(The men who will be riding to find the third Metz child leave the saloon. Jack McCall
remains.)

Jack: (To no one) Wild Bill fuckin' Hickok.

(Bill and Seth walk together down the street towards their horses.)

Seth: You were a marshal in Kansas?


Bill: Yeah. You?
Seth: Montana.
Bill: Come to your senses now?
Seth: Yes, sir. The fella's story on this don't hold water.
Bill: No, it don't.

-----

(Al's office. Al is trying to open his safe. Dan Dority enters the room.)
Al: What'd you give Driscoll?
Dan: 20 bucks. Free poke with Wanda.
Al: Half smart Mick that he is. Yeah.
Dan: Tim really fucked up with the dude, huh?
Al: I guess the dude's case money. Dude only out here three days. How's the dude
ask his people back home for more they're liable to send the Pinkertons.
Dan: So, shut the dude down?
Al: You bein' his secret best friend, he'll want you out prospectin' in the morning
beside him. That claim needs to pinch out.
Dan: Oughtn' take but a couple a days. He ain't got much sand.
Al: And Tim Driscoll needs to be seen to.
Dan: No kiddin', now?
Al: No kiddin'
Dan: Well not than anybody asks, but I'd look to Trixie for danger before I'd look to
Tim.
Al: No kiddin'.

(knocking)

(Johnny and Jimmy enter the room.)

Johnny: Jimmy says the Sioux massacred a family on the Spearfish Road.
Jimmy: A hand come into Nuttall's Number 10 telling the story, Mr. Swearengen.
Al: Who was he?
Jimmy: I-I never seen him before.
Al: Can you get him over here? Is he still at Nuttall's?
Jimmy: Ah, they're ridin' back out to where it happened. Hickok and some others were
ridin' with him.
Al: Did the hand look happy to be riding back out with Hickok?
Jimmy: He didn't look too happy.
Al: (To Jimmy) How many people downstairs did you tell about this?
Jimmy: A few?
Al: A few?

(Al punches Johnny.)

Johnny: Oh!
Al: (To Johnny) You let him tell a few people downstairs before you bring this to
me?
Johnny: Al, I brought him as soon as I heard!
Al: How many people do you think the people he talked to have talked to by now?
I guarantee it this minute, my entire fuckin' action downstairs is fucked up!
Nobody's drinkin', nobody's gambling, nobody's chasin' tail. I have to deal
with that! (Al puts on his coat to get ready to go downstairs.) (To Jimmy) You
want $10 or a bottle of dope?
Jimmy: Bottle of dope please, Mr. Swearengen.
Al: (To Dan) Give him a bottle of dope.
Dan: (To Jimmy) Come on. I'll take care of you. (To Johnny) He's got a lot on his
mind, Johnny.

-----

(Outside. The men going out to the site of the massacre ride out of town, carrying torches
as well as guns.)

(Downstairs at the Gem. Johnny looks out the window as the riders go by.)

(piano playing)

(gunshot)

(Johnny turns around and sees Dan Dority has a gun pointed towards the ceiling, as Dan
fires another round.)

Dan: (To the crowd) Quiet! Al's got words!


Al: (To the quieted crowd) Well, I guess when it starts pissin' rain in here, you
know who to blame, huh? Now, I know word's circulatin' Indians killed a
family on the Spearfish Road. Now it's not for me to tell anyone in this camp
what to do, as much as I don't want more people gettin' their throats cut, scalps
lifted or any other godless thing that these godless bloodthirsty heathens do.
Or even if someone wants to ride out in darkness tonight. But I will tell you
this. I'd use tonight to get myself organized. Ride out in the morning clear-
headed. And startin' tomorrow morning, I will offer a personal $50 bounty for
every decapitated head of as many of these godless heathen cocksuckers as
anyone can bring in. Tomorrow. With no upper limit! That's all I say on that
subject, 'cept next round's on the house. And God rest the souls of that poor
family. And pussy's half price, next 15 minutes.

(cheering)

(piano playing)

(Calamity Jane is drinking on the Gem's porch. She tosses her empty liquor bottle away
and walks towards the front door.)

Johnny: (To the whores in the whores' room) Ok, ladies, let's go.
Whore: (To another whore, regarding Trixie) She must've done some fancy fuckin' to
keep Al from killin' her.

(Jewel hands Trixie a small gun, which she tucks into her cleavage, under her dress. Jane
walks in the front door and over to the bar.)
Jane: (To the crowd) Where's Bill Hickok? Where's Charlie Utter? Give me a drink!

(Al watches as people get back to drinkin', gambling, and chasin' tail. Johnny walks up to
him and Al playfully mimes punching him again, with much less force. Johnny smiles.)

Johnny: It's alright, Al, I know you got a lot on your mind. That was one hell of a good
talk. Look, you got everybody back at the tables, doin' what they do.
Al: Tell you the truth, for murderin' people on the road to Spearfish, my money'd
be on Persimmon Phil.
Johnny: Make it look like Indians.
Al: That is his speci-al-ity.

(Dan joins Al and Johnny. Jane addresses some of the guys at the bar.)

Jane: Is it true? Indians killin' white people?


Dan: That's the sewer mouth that follows Hickok around.
Jane: Why are we standin' here?
Guy: Ridin' out tomorrow, daybreak.
Jane: Oh, really? Tomorrow. What's your fuckin' rush?! I'm goin' now. Even
without Bill. Even without Charlie. I know the road to Spearfish. And I don't
drink where I'm the only fuckin' one with balls!

(laughing)

(Jane strides out the front door.)

Al: Let her go. She ain't takin' any business with her. (To Dan) Oh, and don't
forget to kill Tim.

-----

(Night. The Spearfish Road. The riders find the place where the Metz family was
murdered. Coyotes are there ahead of them, and the men chase them off.)

(barking)

(yah)

(The family was indeed mutilated and their bodies lay scattered and bloody, illuminated
by the torches. As the men look around, Seth notices two coyotes sniffing at something
under a bush, and he goes over to investigate.)

Seth: Waa, yah!

(The two coyotes run off, and Seth gently pulls a little girl (Sophia) from under the bush.
She's alive, and he picks her up.)
-----

(The following morning. The Spearfish Road. The riders are heading back to Deadwood.
Seth cradles Sophia in his arms. Jane rides up to meet them, and upon a look from Bill,
Seth hands Sophia to Jane to hold as they ride back to camp.)

-----

(The Garrett's room at the hotel. Alma is in bed, sleeping. Brom is getting dressed to go
out to their claim. Alma opens her eyes, then closes them again, pretending to be asleep.
Brom attempts to wake her by clearing his throat, but leaves when she doesn't stir.)

(clearing throat)

(clearing throat)

(After Brom leaves, Alma opens her eyes.)

-----

(Downstairs at the Gem. Al is counting the money in the cashbox. He sees a whore sitting
on the pew near the hallway to the back rooms.)

Al: Get to your room. You've been sleepin' on a goddamned pew! (Al walks up the
stairs, and passes a man and a whore as they come down.) (To the man on the
stairs) You in love?

(Al pauses on the stairs as he sees Trixie sitting at a table. She's drinking, and she looks
back at Al. He continues up the stairs, and Trixie watches him go. Ellsworth is sitting
with her at the table.)

Ellsworth: You know I don't intrude on the affairs of others. Problem enough keepin'
my own life straight. Somethin's not my affair, I don't pretend it is. Contrary
wise, if you feel like talkin' about that, headlight (He indicates a large bruise
on Trixie's cheek), I'll pay a dollar a minute to hear ya. Get anything off your
chest you feel like.
Trixie: What I got on my chest, don't concern you, Ellsworth.

(We see the gun hidden in Trixie's cleavage.)

Ellsworth: And fuck us all anyway for the limber dick cocksuckers we are.

(Ellsworth drinks to that.)

-----
(Dan and E.B. walk down the hallway in the Grand Central Hotel. Dan puts a large knife
between his teeth and opens one of the doors with a key. Dan opens the door and enters.
Tim Driscoll is asleep in bed, and he wakes up when Dan comes in.)

Tim: What is it?


Dan: Just hush, Tim.

(Dan covers Tim's mouth with his hand, then stabs him once with the knife.)

(muffled screams)

(Tim stops screaming and Dan looks down at him.)

-----

(Deadwood's Main Street. Alma Garrett looks out the window as Brom walks out of the
hotel into the street. He stands and looks around, as the riders arrive from the Spearfish
Road. The riders continue down the street to Doc Cochran's office.)

Merrick: Doc! Get up! Doc! Doc! Doc! Wake up! Doc!

(Merrick dismounts and hurries over to knock on Doc's door. Doc comes outside, holding
his head from all the yelling. He sees Sophia, and Jane hands her down to Doc. Carrying
Sophia, he starts towards his door. Jane pulls a gun on him.)

Jane: Wait for me, goddamnit! Just hold on 'til I'm with ya.
Charlie: She don't mean nothin', Doc. She's just excitable.

(Doc carries Sophia inside, and Charlie and Jane follow him. Seth and Bill look over at
Ned Mason, who has not followed them all the way to Doc's. Seth dismounts and walks
towards Ned.)

Bill: (To Sol) What kinda hand is your friend with a gun?
Sol: I don't feel qualified to say.

(Brom watches from in front of the hotel.)

Ned: (To Seth) I ah, guess I'd done my duty, and I's ah, I was glad enough to help.
Seth: Stick around. See if she lives.
Ned: Nah, I-I was ah, glad enough to done my duty, and that little one will be in my
prayers.
Seth: Get down off your horse.
Ned: Listen to me. I'm an innocent man, and it was them Indians, goddamnit!
Seth: Too much ransackin', and too many goods left behind. Someone was after
money.
(Wild Bill walks over to stand beside Seth.)

Ned: Goddamnit, if I had somethin' to do with what happened, why'd I come to this
camp, huh?
Bill: Maybe when it got thick out there, you ran? Maybe the others was goin' a-
ground, but you had to have pussy. And get to a faro layout. I felt that way
sometimes after a kill.
Seth: Get down off your horse or face the consequences.

(Ned draws, but Bill and Seth are faster, and Ned is shot and killed. Alma watches from
her window, and the Reverend Smith comes out of the hardware tent after hearing the
shot.)

(dog barking)

Bill: Was that you or me, Montana?


Seth: My money'd be on you.

(Dan comes out of the hotel and walks over to Brom. A crowd starts to gather in the
street, and Merrick takes out his notebook to record what has happened. Dan gives Brom
a thumb's-up for his outfit and mining supplies, and Brom hands him a pan. Alma
watches the two of them walk away, and she has herself another laudanum-laced drink.
Al has been watching from his bedroom window, and he gets into bed.)

(knocking)

(Al picks up a pistol from the bedside table and hides it under the covers.)

Al: Yeah?

(Trixie enters, walks over to the bedside table, and places her gun there. Al just watches.
She undresses and gets into bed with Al, laying her head on his chest. Al has not moved.
The camera pans up from Trixie's face to Al's. The screen goes black.)

Cast(in credits order)


Timothy Olyphant Seth Bullock
Ian McShane Al Swearengen
Molly Parker Alma Garret
Jim Beaver Ellsworth
Brad Dourif Doc Cochran
John Hawkes Sol Star
Paula Malcomson Trixie
Leon Rippy Tom Nuttall
William Sanderson Eustis Baily (E.B.)
Farnum
Robin Weigert Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown Dan Dority
Dayton Callie Charlie Utter

Jackson Bolt Vgilante Rider


Sean Bridgers Johnny Burns
Ursula Brooks Whore #6
David Carpenter Vigilante
Keith Carradine Wild Bill Hickock
Misti Cassar
Jane Leigh
Connelly
Candice Cook Gem Whore
Christopher Darga Byron Sampson
Garret Dillahunt Jack McCall
Allison Gammon
Gill Gayle Huckster
Michael Hagerty
Dylan Haggerty
Michelle Haner
Dan Hildebrand
G.T. Holme Miner in the Gem Saloon
Robyn Hyden
Peter Jason Stapleton
Geri Jewell Jewel
Jeffrey Jones A.W. Merrick
Honey Lauren
Victor McCay
Ray McKinnon Rev. H.W. Smith (as Raymond
McKinnon)
Jamie McShane
Timothy Brom Garret
Omundson
James Parks
Dean Rader- Jimmy Irons
Duval
Vanessa
Robertson
Reiner Schöne (as Raynor Scheine)
Tom Simmons
Everette Wallin
Keone Young Mr. Wu

Publicity images & episode content © 2004 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved. HBO and Deadwood
are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2004 Cristi H. Brockway. The copyright claimed
by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her personal contribution of material not contained in the episode
from which this transcript was compiled. Any commercial use of this transcript is expressly prohibited.
Episode 2 – “Deep Water”
(In front of the Grand Central Hotel, men are felling a tree using ropes to guide it.)

Lumberjack: Hold it, now keep attention on it boys! That’s it!

(EB emerges from the hotel pushing a wheelbarrow full of laundry – he’s heading for Mr.
Wu’s. We see Tim Driscoll’s dog come running after him. When EB gets to the pig sty,
we see Mr. Wu raking the mud around the pen and hear the pigs squealing – he watches
EB approach.)

E.B.: “Washee” (Holding up some of the linens)


Mr. Wu: “Washee”

(EB reveals the body of Tim Driscoll in the cart under the linens.)

EB: “Eat-ee” (Camera pans to the pigs, EB points to the barking dog) His doggy,
them “eat-ee” too, or, “eat-ee” him yourself, you leering heathen. (Smiles, laughs
and leaves.)
---
(Up in Al’s bedroom, he and Trixie are sleeping – Al sits up, Trixie remains asleep. We
hear the chattering of the lumberjacks outside, Al gets up and – yup, pisses in his
chamber pot. He looks out the window and sees the men fell the tree. He spots EB
approaching. Al, finished pissing, picks up the gun Trixie left on his bedside table –
Trixie opens her eyes.)

Al: Is this for me?


Trixie:Brought it for you.
Al: (Throws back the covers off a naked Trixie) Get out.
---
(Back out on the street – one man is talking excitedly to another.)

Hoople head: Pointed the gun at him! Boom, shot him right over there! That’s the guy
over there. Him and Wild Bill got the guy right in the eye.

(Seth turns his mirror away from the gossiping hoople-heads and we see that he’s been
shaving outside his tent. Sol approaches him.)

Sol: You touch that hotel’s kitchen, Seth?


Seth: (Wipes off the shave cream and puts on his coat, grabs his hat. Walking past
Sol…) I’ll meet you.

(Sol looks down and lets out a deep breath – resigned)

---
(The Reverend is standing over an as-yet unfinished casket, Johnny looking on.)

Rev: Men like Mr. Seth Bullock there raise the camp up.
Johnny: Yeah, a fella to be put in that box might argue with you, Reverend.
Rev: Ah, Mr. Bullock did not draw first. And I, point to his commissioning me to build
the departed a coffin and, and see to his Christian burial.
Johnny: Well, any idea of the departed’s name?
Rev: Ah, in his effects I found a letter addressed to Tom Mason.
Johnny: Well, I know a Tom Mason. But that feller, keepin’ cool in the creek, that ain’t
him.
Rev: Which, having prayed, I decided to open. The sender, Mrs. Walter Mason writes,
“I’ve asked your brother Ned, to bear this to you.” From which I conclude
the…departed’s name is Ned.
Johnny: Ned Mason, huh?
Rev: Perhaps the Tom Mason you know is the dead man’s brother? If he is in the camp
he should be notified.
Johnny: No, I ain’t seen Tom around.
---
(Al – coming down the stairs in the Gem.)

Al: Coffee!
EB: Mornin’, Al.
Al: I’d like someone to tell me what in fuck is goin’ forward in this camp?
EB: Tim Driscoll’s checked out. I can tell you that much.
Al: Left you hotel, has he?
EB: Moved to Wu’s pig sty.
Al: What was that shootout about?
EB: At sunup?
Al: Yeah, at fuckin’ sunup!
EB: Far as I heard, Al, Hickok, and one of them hardware guys you’re renting to,
threw down on the fella brought word in of that squarehead family that was
massacred. Suspected he was in on the kill.
Al: What’s it to Hickok or that hardware guy either how them squareheads come to
die?
EB: I couldn’t agree with ya more.

(Dragging sound – Jewel approaches with coffee.)

Al: If you don’t stop draggin’ that fuckin’ leg.


Jewel: (To EB) Coffee?
EB: I might have one cup. Did you know one squarehead lived? (Al looks at EB –
very serious.) Little squarehead girl? They took her to the Doc’s.
Al: What condition?
EB: I don’t know, Al. If she was to live, wouldn’t she have a story to tell? (Al looks
at EB again.)
---
(Doc – passed out in his cabin. He gasps as he wakes up – goes over to Sophia, who is
sleeping on the bed. He checks her forehead and her cheek for fever. Outside, Jane is
sleeping against the Doc’s cabin. Doc approaches her – touches her arm.)

Doc: Wake up.


Jane: How’s that little one?
Doc: She’s still among us.
Jane: I’m askin’ you what her prospects are?
Doc: If her wounds don’t fester, she might can have a fightin’ chance.
Jane: Good.
Doc: (Sees Seth approaching) None of that to him.
Jane: Oh, he’s alright.
Doc: Not a word.
Seth: Mornin’.
Jane: Mornin’, Bullock. (Smiles- Jane seems to like what she sees.)
Seth: I was wonderin’ how that child fared?
Doc: Iffy, touch and go. I’m not optimistic.
Seth: Has she spoken?
Doc: She’s not conscious. Be surprised if she ever is.
Seth: I’d like to hear which ever way it goes. (Turns to leave)
Jane: If you see Bill Hickok, or that sore asshole, Charlie Utter, could you tell him I
looked to the stock?
Seth: Sure, I’ll let him know. (Seth leaves, Doc turns to go inside.)
Jane: You’re wrong not to trust him. He formed a party that found that little one among
all the dead of her family.
Doc: Didn’t he? And didn’t he also shoot a man he suspected in the murders? And if I
were to confide in him when you circulate my optimism, I mean, wouldn’t he say,
“When the little one speaks, you’ll see I was right, not the Sioux killed her family,
but road agents? And supposing it was road agents, and they hear his talk,
where’s the little one stand then?
Jane: You got a dark turn a mind.
Doc: I see as much misery outta them movin’ to justify their selves as them that set out
to do harm.
---
(Seth is walking along the street – Bill Hickok is inside the restaurant as Seth passes by
the window, about to enter the restaurant.)

Utter: Same dead roach in the same damn biscuit.


Wild Bill: It stuck to his position.
Seth: Mornin’.
Wild Bill: Mornin’, Montana. (Bill reaches for the coffee, shaking, seeing this, Utter
grabs the coffee pot and pours it.)
Utter: Joe?
Seth: Much obliged. (Reaches his cup over Wild Bill.) Your friend asked me to say
she’s looked to your stock.
Wild Bill: Thanks.
Seth: She’s back now watchin’ over that child we found. Far as her chances, the Doc’s
not optimistic.
Wild Bill: From the look of him, you think that Doc’s been wrong once or twice in
his life?
Seth: (Laughing) Maybe once or twice.
Utter: We’ll likely be by your tent later.
Sol: (Sitting at a table across the room) Good!
Utter: Get Bill here outfitted with some prospectin’ gear.
Sol: Yes, Sir. (Bill and Charlie sit down across the room.)
Wild Bill: Don’t do that, Charlie.
Utter: Do what?
Wild Bill: Trumpet my intentions. Herd me like a damn steer.
Utter: Ain’t you here to prospect gold? If you’re just gonna gamble, Bill, let’s get it set.
I’ll arrange appearance money for you at one of these joints.
Wild Bill: That ain’t gambling. It’s shilling for the house.
Utter: It’s getting’ you a regular damn source a income. So’s this don’t wind up like
Cheyenne. (Bill shoots Charlie a look.)
---
Seth: What offer should we make at the purchase of that lot?
Sol: Ah, the barber next to us paid 600 for his lot 10 days ago.
Seth: Seller’s market.
Sol: Mmm-Hmm. I’d say we’re well bought at 750 we don’t go past a thousand.
Merrick: (Approaching) Ah, ah, may I ah, join you?

(Sol gestures to the table – yes why the fuck not? Merrick sets his coffee and breakfast
plate down. Wild Bill looks over at Merrick, he seems annoyed at his presence.)

Merrick: Well, Mr. Bullock, after the events of last night, for an ink stained wretch like
myself, finding you and Mr. Hickok here in the same dining room is luck indeed.
Seth: I don’t want to talk about last night’s events.
Merrick: Um, alright, fair enough. I know how to pocket my notebook, sir. The same
wretched biscuits.
(They all see Alma descend the hotel stairs.)

EB: Mrs. Garrett? I hoped you slept well.


Alma: As it happens, I did not.
EB: I’m very sorry. Do you require the doctor?
Alma: Yes. Please.
EB: Certainly, Ma’am, of course. (Alma puts money down on the counter.) Sorry
you’re poorly again.

(Alma enters the restaurant, all the men rise, Charlie last. She nods, they all sit.)

Merrick: That is Mrs. Alma Garrett. Whose husband, I’m told, standing at the bar at
Swearengen’s saloon, (Alma reaches for coffee, shaking.) purchased a gold claim
last night, for $20,000. (We see Wild Bill watching her.)
Sol: We rent our lot from Al Swearengen.
Merrick: I’m not surprised to hear it. Tim Driscoll, the claims seller, lives here in this
hotel. He, ah, (lightly) must be sleeping in. (Seth raises his brows and looks at
Merrick.)
---
(Out at the claim, Brom is in the creek shoveling silt from the stream. Dan is behind him,
watching.)

Brom: Ah. Do you mind?

(Dan holds out a bucket for Brom to dump the silt into. We see Ellsworth on the other
side of the creek behind Brom.)

Ellsworth: Mornin’, boys!


Brom: Good Morning!
Dan: Ellsworth.
Ellsworth: Name’s Ellsworth. I hear you bought these digs.
Brom: Brom Garrett, how do you do?
Ellsworth: My claim’s next one over.
Brom: I see.
Ellsworth: You cleanin’ up any yella?
Dan: Day’s young.
Brom: How ah, how are things running at your claim?
Ellsworth: Made my quota for whiskey, pussy and food.
Dan: Then you best get on down to the Gem, Ellsworth.
Ellsworth: Further benefits will only benefit the faro dealers.
Brom: This exact spot showed a fistful of nuggets two nights ago.
Ellsworth: Well, don’t weaken, Pilgrim. Twix nuggets are nothin’, she’s usually
gonna show you some flake. (Dan looks at him.)
Brom: Thanks for the encouraging words. (Ellsworth leaves, Brom puts another shovel
full of silt into Dan’s bucket.) She hasn’t even showed me any flake. Oh hell.
---
(Back at the Gem, Johnny is recounting his conversation with the Rev about Ned Mason.)

Johnny: Well, I doubt that, Reverend, I say. The Tom Mason I know, is nowhere near
here. But what I was thinkin’, is damned if Al didn’t center shoot the Bull’s-eye.
It wasn’t Sioux killed them squareheads. But it was Persimmon Phil, Tom Mason
and that croaker headed for his coffin is probably some fucked up younger brother
of Tom’s, named Ned.
Al: Listen to me, go get Doc Cochran.
Johnny: And I never tipped the thumper to none of it, Al. I played it dumb as a pile of
rocks.
Al: Go get the Doc, say I want him to see to the whores.
Johnny: Alright, Al. (Turns around to leave) ‘Scuse me fella. (Walks past Seth.)
Seth: Mr. Swearengen.
Al: Yeah, that’s right.
Sol: Sol Star.
Seth: Seth Bullock.
Sol: Rent on lot four. (Puts a money on the bar in front of Al.)
Al: Lot four? The hardware boys, hmm? Here, I wanna buy you fellas a drink.
How’s business on that lot? Hell of a spot isn’t it? Any more foot traffic you’d
have to call it a riot. Now, I’m turning back slow. Nothin’ in hand but this
whiskey bottle. (Seth shoots a loot at Al then Sol and back.) Well, I heard you’re
not a man I want mistakin’ my intentions.
Seth: Who says that? I’d like to ask ‘em what they mean. (Says this with a smile)
Sol: That fella drew on Seth this morning.
Al: Never heard different.
Seth: No one mistook his intentions.
Al: Let’s leave it all alone. I am stupidest when I try to be funny. (Trixie walking
down the hall) There you go fellas. And these are still free. (Pours another
round) Sorry for hittin’ a nerve, huh?
Seth: We’d like to make an offer on that lot we’re rentin’.
Al: Sell my back teeth for the right money.
Sol: Would 600 get the job done?
Al: I guess before I made a price I’d want to know if you boys have unnamed
partners?
Seth: Why?
Al: I think specifically Wild Bill Hickok. Didn’t you and Hickok act together in the
street this morning?
Sol: No, we just met Wild Bill Hickok.
Seth: What business of that is his?
Al: You mean what business of mine is that?
Seth: Don’t tell me what the fuck I mean.
Al: Not a tone to get a deal done.
Sol: Can we sort it out at another time? Thirsty people comin’.

(Persimmon Phil and Tom Mason enter the Gem. They stand in the middle of place,
looking rather menacing.)

Al: Sure. Yeah and you and me’ll find our proper stride, huh?
Seth: Alright.
Sol: Good luck on the days trade.
Al: Well I won’t wish you luck ‘cause I can tell you ain’t the type that needs it. Sol
Star, right? That’s a Jewish name. Mine isn’t, but nice to meet you, son, huh?
Sol: Pleasure.
Al: Marked you for an earner the minute you come in my sight. (Sol and Seth head
out.) Jew Bastard. Ah, two wayfarers when I’d heard you were three.
Phil: How you doin’, Al?
Al: Shall we all, let’s drink upstairs?
Tom: I can be persuaded.
Al: Will you have a whore, Tom, or you still stayin’ true to that heifer?
Tom: It’s over ‘tween me and her.
Phil: Oh, Tommy went sweet on a buffalo down by Yankton. (Laughing)
Al: Where’s brother Neddy, anyway?
Tom: Ah, fuck if I know tha fucker. I’ll take her (He spots Trixie).
Al: Pick another.
---
(Out in the street, Seth and Sol are heading back to the tent.)

Seth: I don’t like that sonofabitch.


Sol: Thank God you didn’t let him see it.
Seth: Calls me loose with a gun. Was he there?
Sol: We’ll just get the lot bought, Seth, and have nothin’ more to do with him. (We see
Rev. Smith waiting for them to get closer.) Buy the lot and we’ll give him wide
berth.
Rev: I’ve acted on your commission, Mr. Bullock. Built a coffin and dug a grave.
Seth: Thank you.
Rev: Will you join me, now for the burial service? (Sol smiles and nods “yes”)
---
(Upstairs of the Grand Central, in Wild Bill and Charlie’s room.)

Utter: All I was sayin’, Bill, ‘til ya start your prospectin’ if you’re gonna gamble, let’s
get you protected a little.
Wild Bill: I know what you were sayin’.
Utter: The extra business you bring a joint, interruptions you stand for or folks wantin’
to glad hand, that all deserves compensation.
Wild Bill: Don’t shop me to those places, Charlie.

(Knocking on the door – EB, still standing behind the closed door…)

EB: E.B. Farnum, gentlemen. Mr. Utter’s room is ready.

(Charlie gets up.)

---
(EB – unlocking the door to Charlie’s new room.)

EB: Clean, and thoroughly aired. (Charlie enters) The previous guest was Irish. (EB
jokingly taps Charlie on the arm – Charlie just looks at him.) No tip necessary,
sir. I operate the hotel. (Hand over the key to Charlie – he grabs it, EB leaves and
as soon as he’s over the threshold Charlie promptly swings the door shut.)
---
Doc: I’ve replenished your supply of medicine.
Alma: (In bed up in her room at the Grand Central, looks over at the fresh bottle of
laudanum.) Thank you, Doctor. I’ve very grateful for your attention. I only wish
my symptoms would subside.
Doc: If I were to tell you, that I would see to you requirements whether you had
symptoms or not, do you suppose that would help you to heal?
Alma: I don’t know what you mean?
Doc: I believe you do, madam. I believe we understand each other. There are people
in this camp in genuine need of my attention. Make this adequate to your
purposes for the next…several days.
Alma: (Sits up on the edge of the bed) Well, Thank you, Doctor.
---
(Up in Al’s office, he and Persimmon Phil are drinking, we hear Tom Mason in the next
room moaning and grunting away.)

Phil: Listen to Tom carrying on in there.


Al: Yeah, bad luck he wasn’t here yesterday.
Phil: Yeah, what’d we miss?
Al: Squarehead family I could’ve tipped you to headin’ back to Minnesota.
Phil: They well off? Worth still tryin’ to catch, are they?
Al: Sioux already caught up with them. Did from last night on the road to Spearfish.
Phil: Heathen cocksuckers. So we missed a good score there, did we?
Al: Keep lyin’…and I’ll murder you in that chair.
Phil: (Puts down his glass) I’m gonna tell you what happened, Al. And this is the
God’s honest truth. (Al raises an eyebrow) We come on that family by accident.
Nobody was tryin’ to hold out your end or anything of the sort or, conceal a
goddamned thing. That’s your end right there. (Takes a pouch out of his inside
jacket pocket, puts it on Al’s desk.) Weighed to the ounce. Ah, my problem was
we didn’t clear this with you and you know how you get, Al. I mean, you know
that yourself. But, my problem was, bringin’ up the subject. But ah, that’s all
weighed out there.
Al: You know why I get how I get?
Phil: Yeah, y-you wanna see over the job, you don’t like loose ends. I appreciate that.
Al: (Leans forward) Don’t like messes, ah, things done half-ass, bags of shit left to
hold.
Phil: There’s no loose ends here, Al. I’ll guarantee you that much, right now.
Al: ‘Cause I got a whole operation here to consider.
Phil: (Hears Tom moaning and pounding away some more, he chuckles.) Listen to
Tom.
Al: One of the squareheads lived.
Phil: No.
Al: No?
Phil: I’m sayin’ that’s pretty hard to believe. I believe ya, but ah, we seen to ‘em pretty
good.
Al: They brought it back to camp, it’s over at the sawbones.
Phil: Is it talkin’? I mean, can it speak English? “Cause when we was seein’ to ‘em,
they was all screamin’ in squarehead, Al.
Al: Where’s Ned Mason?
Phil: That’s a fuckin’ story right there, Al. If you knew, the fuckin’ problem. Well,
when, when it comes to squareheads time, he spooks and runs off. Tom’s and my
hands as full as they was doin’ what we had to do, so, God knows where he got
off to. That’s your cut there, that reflects he’s out. There’s no cut there—
Al: He came here.
Phil: (Sighs) No.
Al: Say no again, I’ll murder you where you fucking sit.
Phil: He swore he’d head to Cheyenne.
Al: Yeah, but here’s closer, isn’t it? All you cocksuckers go for the easiest chance.
Phil: So where is he now?
Al: Where he is now is he, stirs the whole camp up, last night with his massacre story,
‘til I’m givin’ liquor away and cunt at half price, just to keep my crowd
controlled. Party makes up from Nuttall’s to ride back out to Spearfish, Wild Bill
Hickock and those two guys walk past you downstairs saved the squarehead kid,
tell Ned to stick around ‘til they see what the kid has to say about him.
Phil: Wild Bill Hickok?
Al: And Ned, throws down.
Phil: Against Wild Bill Hickok?
Al: Against Hickok and this other cocksucker, who draws almost as fast so it’s a toss
up who blew Ned’s head off.
Phil: Christ, Al, I-I’m, I’m really sorry for the bother.
Al: Yeah, so you let Ned run you leave a squarehead alive and me to clean up the
mess and those are the only loose ends, huh?
Phil: I want you to have my share. I swear to fuckin’ Christ, Al.
Al: I don’t want your fuckin’ share. And I don’t want that kid tellin’ people in
English, or squarehead or drawin’ fucking pictures in the shit with twigs about,
how it wasn’t Indians that killed her people but white! (Smacks Phil across the
head, knocking his chair over. Grabs Phil by the collar.) This camp could be up
for grabs, now God knows what these cocksuckers are up to, Hickok and the rest,
or what I’m gonna have to do about it. And just when I need to keep my head
clear, you give me these bags of shit to hold! I should cut your fuckin’ throat,
Phil!
Phil: Al, please don’t cut my throat. Let me help straighten this out.

(Tom Mason bursts into the office, stark naked, holding his dick.)

Tom: This snatch is bendin’! (Laughing – Al still has Phil by the collar, pinned down
on the floor – they both look at Tom, frozen in place.) What, what happened?
Phil: Ah, tipped over.
Al: And I’m helpin’ him up. Put your iron away now, Tom.
Tom: Ah, not yet! Burned it at the flag T! (Heads back to the whore’s room)
---
Johnny: (Knocking – yells through the door to Doc) Doc, you’ll get me in dutch with
Al!
Doc: (Jane is wrapping Sophia’s legs, Doc watching) Just another damn moment!
(Turns back to watch Jane again.) Don’t put any pressure on it, just lay it on light.
Jane: It looks like I’m pressin’, I’m not. I’m not puttin’ any goddamned pressure!
Doc: That’s very good. That’s very good.
Johnny: Doc!
Doc: I gotta go.
Jane: I expect care for them whore’s business areas is a big damn part of your income.
‘Sup, this is what you want me to do?
Doc: Ah, yes. And don’t let anyone in.
Jane: Believe me, anyone tries gettin’ in here is not you is gonna be damn fuckin’ sorry.
Doc: Alright. (Goes to the door, puts on his hat.)
Jane: I may not let you back.
---
(At the cemetery.)

Rev: Our Christ, as he was crucified addressed the thief who was hanging by his side.
Verily I say unto thee, this day, shalt thou be with me in paradise. Your ways are
not our ways, oh Lord. We abide the just and the unjust alike under your tearless
eye. Tearless, not because you do not see us, but…because you see what we are
so well. (Seth raises his brow, the Reverend shuts his eyes and looks to the sky)
Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world, send your angels to welcome
this body into paradise. Lamb of God, who takest away the sin of the world, grant
this soul eternal rest. Amen.
Sol: That’s a real generous perspective, Reverend.
Rev: And don’t we need all the generosity we can get?

(Seth smiles a little at this, he and Sol pick up the shovels and begin to cover the casket
with dirt.)

---
(Back in Al’s office, Al is pouring a drink for a grief-stricken Tom Mason, Al has his arm
around Tom’s shoulders, comforting him.)

Al: They butt into other people’s business and make the business of others their own,
these bought out no good cocksuckers.
Tom: What, Hickok you’re talkin’ about?
Al: Oh, fuckin’ bigshot that he is.
Phil: Big fuckin’ shot when he’s standin’ in front of ya.
Al: One in his ear from behind I’d like to see how fuckin’ tough he was.
Phil: That’s right, cocksucker.
(Rapid knocking on the office door, Johnny enters.)
Al: Anyway, rest his soul.
Phil: That’s all.
Johnny: Condolences, Tom.
Tom: He’s gone Johnny. I don’t think you ever did meet him.
Johnny: Ah, no. Doc’s here.
Al: (Gets up, grabs his jacket) Fuck Hickok! And what he did to you poor fuckin’
brother, huh?
---
(Over in the whore’s room)
Doc: This is festered, because you won’t take a flame to your damn needle.
Whore #1: I do Doc, every time before I use it.
Doc: Stop lyin’.
Whore #1: Anyways, I’m quittin’.
Trixie:They say you’re lookin’ to a little one, Doc.
Doc: How’s that ointment workin’?
Whore #2: It’s nice and cool on me, Doc. (Rubbing her snatch)
Doc: I’m tryin’ just a little bit more lanolin in it. (Al enters)
Whore #3: Hey, give me a dollop of that! (Puts it on her pussy)
Al: How’s that pussy lotion feel? Should I try some on my ass?
Doc: Al.
Al: Will she live?
Doc: Let me look at your belly.
Whore #3: I didn’t know you cared, Doc.
Doc: Will who live, Al?
Al: Norwegian kid, how many children you carin’ for?
Doc: I’m not optimistic.
Al: I see.
Doc: Where are you in your moons?
Whore #3: About two weeks along.
Al: She speak English? I mean, what’s she gotta say for herself anyway?
Doc: She hasn’t said a word, Al, or been conscious for a second.
Al: Oh, too bad. She could settle who killed her people, road agents or Sioux.
Doc: I don’t know nothin’ about that, does that hurt?
Whore #3: Little bit.
Al: If she does see, Doc, that’s the point. She could settle it.
Doc: I doubt she’ll settle anything, Al. I doubt we’ll even know what language she
spoke.
Al: Give those girls a good goin’ over, Doc. Look to ‘em like they’re your own.
Doc: Don’t tell me my job or how long to do it in. I can see to them. And I can see to
the way I’m goddamned able, and that’s all I can goddamned do!
Al: Ooh, what’s your time of the month, huh?

(Al leaves, Doc goes over to Trixie to check out her face.)

Trixie:Are you poorly, Doc?


Doc: Don’t worry about me, I know what I am. What I’m not.
---
(Out in the street, Al is heading over to the Doc’s cabin, Alma watches from her hotel
window. Al enters the cabin.)

Jane: What do you want?


Al: Doc asked me to see your patient.
Jane: What for? What do you know about it? Who the fuck are you?? (Al looks at her
and walks right by her) Hey, don’t you fuckin’ ignore me! (She hits his back and
he turns back around).
Al: You don’t want to interfere with me.
Jane: You think I’m scared of you?
Al: Sure you are. If I take a knife to ya, you’ll be scared worse and a long time dyin’.
Jane: I ain’t scared to die. I ain’t scared of nobody. (Al chuckles and turns back to the
bed where Sophia is still asleep) Hey, you, you, you get away, get away from her!
Le-le-leave that little one alone! Leave her alone!
Al: (Picks up Sophia’s wrist and pinches the inside of it – Sophia’s eye pop wide
open.) Hello.
Jane: (Crying) Leave her! Leave her. Leave her, leave her alone, you cocksucker! Do
it to me if you have to! (Al walks past Jane – leaving).
Al: Why would I do it to you? (He leaves and Jane breaks down in tears.)
---
(Out in the street, the Doc is returning from the Gem and sees Al leave his cabin.)

Doc: Did you hurt her?


Al: No. No, Doc. But she’s better than you thought. Her eyes are open.

(Doc takes off running to his cabin. He enters and Jane is sitting on the edge of the bed,
crying her eyes out.)

Jane: I fell apart. I couldn’t look out for the little one. Fucker looked at me and I fell
apart in front of him.
Doc: Alright. You’re not the first.
Jane: No, I’m not the first. Who said I was the first? You think he’s the fuckin’ first?
I’ve been fucked plenty! And tougher fucks than he was and little than her by
plenty! They fucked me plenty! So you can go fuck yourself! (Sobbing)
Doc: Go on, head on. I’ll look after her.
Jane: Was he a road agent? Was he among them that did for her family?
Doc: He owns the Gem saloon.
Jane: Then what’s it to him if she can open her eyes?
Doc: You go on ahead.
Jane: Does road agents work for him?
Doc: I’ll take care of her.
Jane: I’m sorry, I apologize.
Doc: You got nothin’ to apologize for. You gotta gift for this. You cared for her real
good.
Jane: Don’t be mean.
Doc: No. You got a gift. (Jane leaves)
---
(Brom walks along the streets, now dark, and enters the Grand Central Hotel.)

EB: Mr. Garrett? How was your day at the digs?


Brom: It was a mixed experience, Mr. Farnum. My claim retains every bit of its promise
but, I’m afraid I’ve injured my back.
EB: All that twisting and turning.
Brom: It’s wrenched at least and I feel worse. I may not be cut out for this sort
of…activity.
EB: Oh, many aren’t
Brom: Under the circumstances, perhaps I should reconsider.
EB: What, Sir?
Brom: I refer to your offer on my gold claim.
EB: My offer?
Brom: Last night, Mr. Farnum, before witnesses, at the Gem saloon you offered 16,000.
EB: I see.
Brom: I’m prepared to reconsider.
EB: I have a confession to make, Mr. Garrett. I have a weakness for spirits.
Brom: You saying you were drunk last night?
EB: I must’ve been, sir. I black out and, no memory at all of my actions. Please
ignore any offers made while in my condition.
Brom: And yet you didn’t seem drunk?
EB: I suppose that’s why I’m such a danger to myself.

(Brom-stricken-takes his hat and lantern off the counter and heads upstairs. EB drinks
his coffee.)

---
(Back in Al’s office.)

Dan: Jesus Christ Almighty, Al.


Al: Far as that sewer mouth friend of Hickok’s playin’ nurse, you can tip her over
with a feather.
Dan: But a little girl? It’s hard on my conscious.
Al: Or we could let her spread work that folks (Phil enters) got road agents to fear
more than Indians, breed mistrust one white for another throughout the whole
fuckin’ camp. That’d be another option, is he ready?
Phil: Ah, huh, Tom’s ready, Al, but he’s awful drunk. I-I don’t trust him to pull it off.
Al: Not a bank job, he walks up to the cocksucker, puts one in his ear.
Phil: Ah, he keeps runnin’ that mouth like he is, Hickok ain’t gonna let him get close
enough. (Knocking)
Al: Who in fuck is it? (Johnny enters)
Johnny: Them hardware guys is askin’ for ya, downstairs, Al.
Al: (Grabs his pocket watch and looks at it) Tell ‘em I’ll be fuckin’ down. (Does a
shot) Pour coffee down Tom, because he is goin’ out tonight to murder that
sonofabitch. (To Dan) Where do you and me stand?
Dan: We’re alright. (Al leaves)
Phil: What are you supposed to do?
Dan: (Grabs his hat) Nothin’.
---
(Back at the Doc’s, he’s sitting next to Sophia, rubbing her head)

Doc: Don’t ever say nothin’ to no one. I don’t know if you can understand me, but if
you can don’t show it.
Sophia: (mumbling)
Doc: If you gotta talk, talk like that. (Gets up and grabs his shotgun, checks that it’s
loaded, and sits back down. Doc hears a horse neighing and looks up.)
---
(Downstairs at the Gem)

Sol: See if this makes sense to you, Seth. I do the talkin’.


Seth: Fine with me.
Sol: Some people don’t get along. They have business to do with each other, they find
a way around it.
Seth: Don’t talk to me like I’m five, Sol.
Al: Boys.
Seth: Evenin’ (Stands up) Sol’s got my proxy.
Al: Me and him, we should talk without you?
Seth: That’s what it means.
Al: What’s your partner so mad about all the time? (Trixie gets up)
Sol: He’s not mad.
Al: He’s got a mean way of bein’ happy.
Sol: As far as offerin’ on your lot, Mr. Swearengen, we’d probably go 750.
Al: You’d probably go a thousand.
Sol: Say we would. Does a thousand get it done?
Al: My concern, Sol, you don’t mind if I call you Sol?
Sol: Please do.
Al: My concern, anything can happen under a tent. I mean a hardware operation can
turn into a gambling joint. Ain’t that right? (Trixie stands next to Seth at the bar.)
Sol: That’s not gonna happen, Mr. Swearengen.
Al: Sell to you boys outright, I could be installing my own eventual competition, in
the prime location, with the “A” number one man killer the west holding an
unnamed piece of the action.
Sol: We met Hickok by coincidence. He’s not an unnamed partner.
Al: Now so you say. But a camp like this, Sol, no law or enforceable contract. I
mean, you gotta watch a man a while ‘til you see what his word counts for. (He
looks over Sol’s shoulder to Seth, Sol turns around to look too.)
Trixie:Would you like some company?
Seth: No.
Al: Say we value the lot at a thousand; you boys give me 500, and whatever you
should put that tent to between now and the first snow, I’m in for half the net.
Come October, we finish the deal, all knowin’ each other better.
Sol: Seth won’t accept it, Mr. Swearengen.
Al: I thought you had his proxy.
Sol: Just up to a point.
Al: See, that ain’t my sense of proxy. That’s what I’d want these few months for, ‘til
we agreed what things meant.
Sol: I’m telling you, we’re just a hardware operation.
Al: You heard my offer. (Sol gets up and joins Seth at the bar, Trixie sits down with
Al.)
Trixie:He didn’t wanna drink, and he didn’t wanna fuck.
Al: Anyone or just you? (Trixie huffs and takes a drink)
Sol: We pay 500 now, he gets 50 percent of our net ‘til the first snow. Then we buy
out the rest of his interest.
Seth: No.
Sol: It’s a great location, Seth. He wants to be sure we don’t turn it to gambling or that
Hickok’s not in with us.
Seth: I won’t be partners with him.
Sol: We wouldn’t be after October.
Seth: I won’t be partners.
Al: Trixie (cocks his head for her to leave, Seth approaches) See, you got Trixie all
distressed. She wanted to give you a ride.
Seth: A thousand, now. If anyone in that tent, or the building we put up, turns a playin’
card, or pours a drink, or offers a woman’s services you get title back and keep
our fuckin’ money.
Al: What makes you talk to me in that tone of voice?
Seth: I’m makin’ a counter offer.
Al: You come into my camp, rent my lot, within six hours; you blow in a guy’s eye,
with Wild Bill Hickok backin’ your play. Next day I’m supposed to sell you the
lot, put you in business without askin’ who the fuck you are or what the fuck
you’re doing here?
Seth: Far as what happened in the street, with Bill Hickok bein’ involved, that was a
turn of events.
Al: A what?
Seth: It was a turn of events.
Al: Oh, a turn of events. Your partner calls it a coincidence. So what with this
coincident and turn of events staring me in the fuckin’ face and five other fuckin’
things I’m supposed to be payin’ attention to, I still make you a sensible proposal
and you answer by insulting me in my own joint.
Sol: Seth didn’t mean to insult you, Mr. Swearengen.
Al: You stay out of this. You don’t know nothin’ about this. You weren’t here and
you don’t have his proxy, so why don’t you do whatever you people do when
you’re not running your mouths off or cheatin’ people out of what they earn by
Christian work?
Seth: You don’t wanna be talkin’ that way.
Al: Oh, don’t tell me how to talk in my own fucking place! And here’s my counter
offer to your counter offer. Go fuck yourself! (Seth and Al stare at each other.)
Sol: Seth. (Trixie approaches)
Al: Get him away from me.
Trixie:Mister. The best bath and blowjob you ever had’s not twelve steps up them stairs.
(Their still staring at each other) Mister!

(Seth pushes his way past Al and leaves with Sol.)


---
(Alma is brushing her hair in front of her vanity mirror)

Brom: I may as well confide in you, Alma.


Alma: Of course.
Brom: I’m beginning to feel we’ve been duped. Our gold claim may be worthless. I’m
beginning to think that even, Al Swearengen’s name should be added to the
conspirator’s list.
Alma: I know how disappointed you must be.
Brom: I know. I told you I’d believed I’d found a friend in Al. As I now look back, Al
not only presided with the sale, he facilitated my involvement at every turn.
Alma: Well, I-I-I suppose a community such as this…attracts a certain kind of man.
Brom: Alma, I’ve mentioned to you, exchanging hellos with Wild Bill Hickok in the
hotel hallway?
Alma: Yes, y-you said ah, he seemed very friendly.
Brom: Very friendly. In the hallway and on the stairs. Do you suppose, we might enlist
him to our cause?
Alma: D-Do you t-think that that’s the sort of thing that he does?
Brom: For a fee, a percentage of the monies recovered, I’d say that’s exactly his line.
Alma: Mmm.
Brom: I may well include the name of Al Swearengen when Wild Bill and I confer.
---
(Seth and Sol, having left the Gem, are walking down the street)

Sol: This camp is a going concern. We could secure our futures here. Hardware could
just be a start.
Seth: Camp needs a bank.
Sol: Camp also needs a bank, is exactly damn right. Seth. If you see all the
possibilities why get sidetracked by that saloon keeper? We just wanna buy his
lot.
Seth: What about what he called you?
Sol: I been called worse by better.
Seth: Get it in writin’ from that sonofabitch. We buy the other half in October.
Sol: Just leave it to me.
Utter: Ah..ah..(pissing) Uh…ah…ah. (looks over at Seth and Sol) Evenin’.
Seth: Evenin’.
Utter: Um, Bill and me didn’t make it to your tent today.
Seth: Tomorrow’s another day.
Utter: Ah, prospect. His express purpose comin’ to this camp. Make a, his stake for his
new wife. His idea. Don’t suggest buyin’ a shovel or a siftin’ cradle. Un-uh.
(farting) Ah, uh-oh. Ah.
Sol: Anyways, have a good evenin’.
Utter: What’s your secret, Bullock?
Seth: What do you mean?
Utter: You got some ah, Bill’s qualities but then you got somethin’ he’s missin’. Get
along with people, turn a dollar, look out for yourself. He don’t know how to do
that. You see what I’m sayin’? So, I like to know your secret so’s then I can tell
it to Bill.
Seth: I don’t know any secrets.
Utter: Don’t tell me if you don’t want, I mean, find occasion and tell him yourself. He
likes you. Just don’t wait too long. (They look at each other, Charlie turns and
walks back to the wall.)
---
(At Nuttall’s #10, Bill is playing cards with Con Stapleton, Jack McCall and another
man. We don’t see right away that it’s Jack until he speaks. Persimmon Phil and Tom
Mason are sitting on the other side of the place, watching.)

Phil: How you feel?


Tom: One more shot, and I’ll be ready to take that cocksucker. Maybe one more cup of
coffee.

(Seth and Sol enter and approach the bar. Nuttall pours them a drink – at his table,
Hickok does a shot.)

Wild Bill: I’m out for a couple.


Jack McCall: Ah, go get you some ammo Wild Bill, a-at kinda looks down to turn.
Wild Bill: You’re names Jack?
Jack: Yeah, that’s correct.
Wild Bill: What are ya in the game for, Jack?
Jack: What am I in it for?
Wild Bill: If irritating me’s the jackpot, you’ve got the job done. (Bill turns away
and walks to the bar, Jack makes a fish-face at him as he leaves.) Montana.
Seth: Evenin’.
Wild Bill: Evening.
Sol: Evenin’.
Wild Bill: What’d be your opinion far as me gettin’ another 50?
Nuttall: You ah, you want another 50 in credit?
Wild Bill: If that’s alright with you?
Nuttall: Yeah, I suppose so.
Wild Bill: Play poker?
Seth: I’m no good at it.
Wild Bill: You let that slow you down? (Seth smiles and laughs) Fella in the far
corner to your right intends me harm. When he makes his move would you keep
an eye on the man with him? (Seth turns subtly and sees Persimmon Phil and Tom
Mason)
Seth: You bet.
Wild Bill: See the fella’s I mean?
Seth: Yes, I do.
Wild Bill: Thanks, Montana.
Nuttall: Wouldn’t was the water gettin’ no deeper than this, Mr. Hickok.
Wild Bill: Fair enough. (Turns and returns to the table)
Seth: Stand away from me, Sol. (Turns and looks at Sol, they lock eyes for a moment
and Sol backs away.)
Stapleton: Don’t be too stupid, Jack. (Bill sits down)
Jack: I restored our bosoms!
---
(Outside, Charlie is waiting, drinking. Jane approaches with a bottle of her own.)

Jane: They throw you out?


Utter: No, they did not! I left on my own stand. I choose to be out here.
Jane: Well, I was drinkin’ down by the goddamned creek outta my own fuckin’ free
will. (Leans on the wall next to Charlie) Where’s Bill?
Utter: Inside. Losin’ at cards. I-I’ll go get him but, he’d accuse me ah herdin’ him like
a damn steer. (Jane takes a drink, sets down her bottle and starts to walk)
Jane: Someone I need to go kill.
Utter: What, who? (Starts to walk after her)
Jane: You are not my target, but keep botherin’ me and I’ll add you to the list.
Utter: Who’d be talkin’ about, damnit!
Jane: Greasy-haired limey cocksucker! That runs the Gem saloon.
Utter: What the hell you wanna kill him for?
Jane: His showin’ makes two different things. Between the coward and the lapse of
momentary fear.
Utter: Listen, Jane, you listen to me! I don’t (Grabs Jane) know what in the hell you’re
talkin’ about and I guaran-fuckin’-tee, you have at that man, and you won’t come
out that joint, alive.
Jane: Oh! The sun ain’t rose on the day I pay heed to what you say! (sobbing)
Utter: Oh. Oh, what is this? Oh, oh…(hugs Jane)
Jane: (Crying) He scared me, Charlie! I ain’t been scared like that since I was a little
girl.
Utter: Oh. Oh, Jesus.

(Jane backs out of Charlie’s arms, stops crying, shrugs it off and gets back into mean
mode – walks off.)

Charlie: Jane, where you goin’? (Walks off after her)


Jane: Ah, alright. Now, down there is Doc Cochran’s office. (points to her left) If that
limey cocksucker (points to her right) comes for that little girl (points to left), I
got him triangulated. If he comes from that way (points to right) I got him, and if
he comes from that way…(points to left) I got him. (Looks at Charlie – he joins
her on the corner.)
---
(At the Gem, Dan is preparing himself, with tears in his eyes, hands clasped together, as
if in prayer, rocking back and forth. He grabs his knife, stands up and puts it in his belt
and leaves. Back at Nuttall’s #10, Bill is playing poker.)

Tom: Here I go.


Phil: No words and no gun ‘til you’re on him.
Tom: Here I go. Revenge my fuckin’ brother.

(Tom gets up and walks past Seth, Seth turns and keeps his eyes on Phil. Tom
approaches the table and Bill draws and fires, hitting Tom in the belly. Tom clutches his
belly and falls to the floor.)

Stapleton: The man’s gun never left his holster, Mr. Hickok.
Wild Bill: He meant me harm.
Tom: You killed my brother, you sonofabitch!
Wild Bill: And now I killed you.
Seth: He was goin’ for his gun. I saw it. (We see Jimmy Irons in the background)
Stapleton: A revenge seeker. I guess he did mean you harm.

(Jimmy slips out the back door, Sol looks on in horror)


---
(Charlie and Jane are still standing, barely, on the corner.)

Utter: You’re half fuckin’ blind, ain’t ya?


Jane: Sometimes it’s a fuckin’ blessing. (Dan approaches the corner and eyes Jane)
What the fuck you lookin’ at? (Dan keeps walking) Like’s he’s a fuckin’ Adonis.

(Dan approaches Doc’s cabin, wiping the tears now falling freely from his eyes. Doc is
sleeping in the chair next to Sophia. Dan knocks on the door, Doc wakes up and sees
Dan through the curtains on the door. Dan knocks again. Doc gets up and grabs his
shotgun, opens the door.)

Dan: You go on away from here for a little while, Doc. (Doc points his gun at Dan)
Doc: I won’t.
Dan: Go on. You go see about the whores.
Doc: No.
Dan: You know I’ll come through you if I have to.
Doc: Let me remind you of somethin’, Dan. If you kill me…then you are up to your
elbows in snatches, just like you were ‘fore I came to this damn camp. (Dan
looking at Sophia, crying) Takin’ care of ‘em. Nursin’ ‘em, day in, day out.
Takin’ heat from Al every time one of ‘em’s poorly. Up to your elbows!
Dan: Between that and a slit throat that Al’ll give be if I leave that child alive, I think
you know which one I’m gonna choose.
Doc: You just go ahead and do what you’re gonna do ‘cause I’m not movin’.
Dan: (looking at Sophia) Jesus Christ, you’re pittin’ me against Al.
Doc: So the fuck be it.
Dan: Well, I ain’t goin’ it alone. You’re comin’ with me to make the case.
---
(Jane and Charlie, still triangulatin’)

Jane: (Sees Dan walkin’ with the Doc, holding his elbow) Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ,
Charlie! Have we been asleep at the switch?
Utter: What’s wrong?
Jane: Why’s he got his arm on the Doc? You with that ugly fucker of your own free
fuckin’ will, Doc?
Doc: Yes, yes, I am. (Holding hands in the “quiet down” way) I’d rather be lucky than
smart (smiling).
---
(Al, in the Gem with Jimmy Irons and Persimmon Phil)

Al: Word for word, what the hardware guy said.


Jimmy: The hardware guy…
Al: The hardware guy. Did you just fuckin’ tell me the hardware guy was standing
next to Hickok?
Jimmy: The hardware guy said somethin’ like, “Hickok’s right. He was goin’ for his
gun. I saw him goin’ for it, too.)
Al: Somethin’ like.
Jimmy: My tooth was painin’ me somethin’ awful, Sir. But I am certain that was the
gist of it.
Al: Get some dope from Johnny.
Jimmy: Thanks an awful lot, Mr. Swearengen. My tooth’s about brought me to my
knees. (Jimmy leaves and Phil stands alone)
Al: Tell me one thing. When that idiot made his move did he tip it?
Phil: Tom didn’t say Boo, Al. Hickok must’ve just smelled him.
Dan: Al? You’re not gonna believe what fuckin’ happened.
Al: What?
Doc: Lunatic that runs with Hickok, just absconded with that child. Must be under his
protection.
Al: Come here. (Phil follows Al, Dan and Doc watch them go upstairs)
---
(Up in Al’s office)

Al: You’re sure that girl doesn’t know what you look like?
Phil: Al, I’m confident that girl don’t know what I look like. But no, I can’t guarantee
that to a moral certainty. And I, I know you got your whole operation here you
gotta consider. And ah, you don’t need to be, worried or, or troubled about
the…well, as far as that girl recognizing me, no matter if it’s (Al bends down to
his safe) the slimmest of the slim of possibilities. So, so what you want me to do?
You want me to just stay outta camp and, until you deal with all this? Why don’t
I do that, Al? How ‘bout you have Johnny check under the rock and I’ll put
messages under the rock, and then I’m gonna check under the rock, ah, every day,
and see if you wanna send messages to me. (Al opens his safe)
Al: Err on the side of caution?
Phil: That’s ah, is that a plan? (reaches out his hand, Al shakes it with a fake smile on
his face) Hey ah, Al, think I got time to put my brand on a little snatch ‘fore I go?

(Al sticks him with a knife, twisting it and forces Phil to the ground. Phil grunts.)

Al: No loose ends now.

(Dan and Doc are downstairs, drinking – Al yells down to Dan from upstairs)
Al: Get up here! Bring the sled. (Dan turns back to the Doc, smiles. Al slams his
office door. Dan gets up.)

---
(In the wagon outside of camp, Jane and Charlie are tucking Sophia in)

Jane: (Singing) ♪Row, row, row your boat♪


♪ gently down the stream♪
♪ merrily, merrily…♪
Goddamnit! (To Charlie)
♪Row, row, row your boat♪
♪ gently down the stream♪
Together: (In a round now, Charlie joins in second at the “merrily” part starting a new
round) ♪merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily life is but a dream.♪
♪ Row, row, row your boat♪
♪ gently down the stream ♪
♪ merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily life is but a dream.♪
♪ Row, row, row your boat♪
♪ gently down the stream♪
♪ merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily life is but a dream.♪
♪ Row, row, row your boat♪
♪ gently down the stream♪
♪ merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily life is but a dream.♪

Cast:
Timothy Olyphant Seth Bullock
Ian McShane Al Swearengen
Molly Parker Alma Garret
Jim Beaver Ellsworth
Brad Dourif Doc Cochran
John Hawkes Sol Star
Paula Malcomson Trixie
Leon Rippy Tom Nuttall
William Sanderson Eustis Baily (E.B.) Farnum
Robin Weigert Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown Dan Dority
Dayton Callie Charlie Utter

Guest Appearances:
Sean Bridgers Johnny Burns
Keith Carradine Wild Bill Hickock
Joe Chrest Persimmon Phil
Jane Leigh Connelly
Garret Dillahunt Jack McCall
Dan Hildebrand Tim Driscoll
Peter Jason Johnny Varnes
Geri Jewell Jewel
Jeffrey Jones A.W. Merrick
Ray McKinnon Rev. H.W. Smith (as Raymond McKinnon)
Nick Offerman Tom Mason
Timothy Omundson Brom Garret
Toni Oswald
Dean Rader-Duval Jimmy Irons (as Dean Rader Duval)
Tom Simmons
Bree Seanna Wall Metz Girl (as Breeseanna Wall)
Keone Young Mr. Wu

Publicity images & episode content © 2004 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved.
HBO and Deadwood are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2004
Cristi H. Brockway. The copyright claimed by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her
personal contribution of material not contained in the episode from which this transcript
was compiled. Any commercial use of this transcript is expressly prohibited.
Episode #3 – “Reconnoitering the Rim”
(Tim Driscoll’s dog is hanging out with Ellsworth now, passionately digging away in a little hole)

Ellsworth: He’s down that hole for a fact. Pitiful as you pursued him, you better hope he ain’t got
the space enough to roll around, hold his side, bust a gut laughin’. Tell all the other woodchucks
at the club this afternoon…he might not even call it a escape. Might just call it his morning’s
entertainment.
Dan: Hey! Hey, Ellsworth!
Ellsworth: Hey, Dan Dority! (Dog whimpers and goes to hide somewhere behind Ellsworth)
Where’s the great prospector?
Dan: I guess Brom slept in this morning.
Ellsworth: Suppose his enthusiasm’s on the wane?
Dan: That’s always possible. He shows up, you tell him I quit waitin’.
Ellsworth: Sure will.
Dan: See ya at the Gem. (Walks away)
Ellsworth: Always possible. Go on! (Dog returns)
---
(At the cemetery, they are interring Tom Mason)

Rev: 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. (AW sneezes – several times)
Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? Or who shall stand (AW sneezing & coughing) in his
holy place? He that, that hath a clean hands (Rev hands AW a handkerchief) and a pure heart.
Who hath not lifted up his soul. Unto vanity nor sworn (Still sneezing) beseechfully. He, he
shall receive the blessing from the Lord, and (Seth turns and sees Charlie Utter and Calamity
Jane returning from the wagon with Sophia cradled in Jane’s arms) justice from the God of his
salvation. Lift up your heads, oh 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.

(The camera pans down to the entrance of town where the wagon train for the Bella Union arrives
fittingly, beneath the sign for the meat market. We see Cy and his ladies, Joanie at the head doing her
best Vanna White impression but instead of letters she’s revealing whores.)

Various Male Voices: Selah! (Cheering) What’s yer name!? Hey! What’s yer name!?

( Al watches from his balcony with interest. He watches them raise the sign for the Bella Union Saloon,
Cy motioning it centered. Meanwhile, back at the cemetery…)

Rev: Everyone proud in heart is an abomination to the Lord. Though hand join in hand, he shall not
be unpunished. (AW – still goddamned 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. (Rev’s eyes land on Seth. Seth locks some serious
eyes on the Rev.) Amen.
Merrick: Amen.
Seth: Thank you (Shakes hands with the pallbearers) Thanks for your help.
Merrick: May we edify my readers, Mr. Bullock?
Seth: I don’t know what edify means.
Merrick: Can we talk about last night’s gunfight?
Seth: (Grabbing a shovel) No.
Merrick: We can’t talk about last night’s gunfight, either. (AW grabs a shovel and they start to
cover the coffin.)
---
(Al emerges from the Gem Saloon looking rather pissed off.)

Al: 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.
Al: This no good fucking Judas! (pointing) Hey, fucknut!
Artie: Just take it easy, Al. (Loading his wagon)
Al: How long you been hatchin’ this fuckin’ plot?
Artie: I made a practical goddamned business decision.
Al: No chance for me to match their fuckin’ offer?
Artie: You couldn’t have. (Climbs up onto the wagon) You’da killed me before you’d matched. But
it’s between you and them now. (Sol looks on)
Al: Drive careful, cocksucker!
Artie: Don’t think I haven’t taken precaution. Don’t think I don’t know your mind!

(Wagon pulls off. Sol approaches Al as he’s walking away)

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


Al: I ain’t ready to settle yet.
Sol: Just, we’re anxious to start building.
Al: If you want an answer now, it’s no.
---
(At Nuttall’s #10, Wild Bill is playing poker – again)

Wild Bill: Two.


Jack McCall: Same for me. Only better.
Stapleton: Yeah, three the dealer, dealer draws. Trench mouth. Opener bets.
Jack: 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? Eight dollars. Are you ready to stand anymore credit to Wild Bill here, Tom?
Nuttall: I didn’t hear him ask for any.
Jack: You want me just bet eight, Bill?

(Bill takes one of his revolvers out of its holster and lays it on the table.)

Wild Bill: May it cover my call.


Jack: Ah, Bill, I can’t let you put your gun up. That colt’s worth more than my raise by a good 40
bucks.
Wild Bill: Are you takin’ the bet?
Jack: I tell you what, I’ll add 40 bucks to my raise, make the bet fair. And then 50 more, if you’ll put
up a set.

(Wild Bills draws the other colt out quick as lightening. Jack ducks to the side, reacting to the draw.
Bill puts the gun down next to the other.)

Stapleton: Pot’s right.


Jack: (Lays down his cards) Would a nine high straight do the trick?

(Wild Bill lays down his cards, not taking his eyes off Jack)

Stapleton: Pot to the club flush.


Jack: Well that’s one in a row for you, Wild Bill. Who’s hungry? What in the hell damn time is it
anyway?
Wild Bill: Sure you wanna quit playing, Jack? The game’s always between you and gettin’ called a
cunt.
Nuttall: Ah, meetin’ adjourned, fellas, take it outside.
Wild Bill: That dropped eye of your looks like the hood of a cunt to me, Jack. When you talk, your
mouth looks like a cunt moving.
Jack: I ain’t gonna get in no gunfight with you, Hickok.
Wild Bill: But you will run your cunt mouth at me. And I will take it to play poker.
Nuttall: I’ll tote up accounts, Mr. Hickok ah, we’ll do whatever rest business we need to next
you’re in.
Wild Bill: Anyone wants to, can find me at the Grand Central. (Strides out of the #10)
---
(Sophia, eyes open, laying down)

Jane: She’s warm isn’t she?


Utter: She ain’t talk yet, neither.
Jane: That’s beside the point, you shut up!
Doc: She will get fever, bein’ wolf bit.
Jane: And the reason we risked bringin’ her into camp…
Doc: You don’t need to fear the saloonkeeper. He’s not a danger to her no more.
Jane: He’s not?
Doc: Saloonkeeper worried that the little one said that road agents killed her people. Who the road
agents might say they worked for.
Jane: Meaning, him?
Doc: He took a different approach to the problem. She would do better indoors.
Utter: I told Jane she could take my room with the little one, and I’d move back in with Bill.
Jane: Will not stay in no fuckin’ hotel! They don’t want me. They won’t give me a room.
Doc: You two keep your voices down. (Doc pours medicine into a spoon, mimes ingesting it to
Sophia and puts it to her mouth, she dutifully does as he “asked”)
Jane: What’d I say about noise? He snores the whole fuckin’ night!
Utter: Snorin’s past a person’s control.
---
(Out in the street, facing the hotel, Seth and the Reverend are walking back to the tent)

Rev: I was a field nurse during the war. At Shiloh in Sanko Manassas. That was a good deal of
violence.
Seth: Is that when you got your callin’?
Rev: Yes, it was, Sir. Out of that crucible out of all that horror to come to God’s grace. A-a man’s
heart deviseth his way, but the Lord, directeth his steps. H-he directeth all our steps, Mr.
Bullock. All of us.
Seth: If your preachin’ at me, Reverend, you need to put some more light on the text.
Rev: If I am preaching at you, sir, I do you a disservice. Good Morning, Mr. Star.
Sol: Good Morning, Reverend.
Seth: Can we get the lot? Can we start buildin’? The Reverend’s come to help.
Sol: We’re still hangin’ fire.
Seth: What’s the damn holdup?
Sol: New gambling outfit come into town, Seth. Time wasn’t right to push and do a decision.
Seth: I got all the lumber cut.
Sol: And I warned you that was premature.
Seth: You said 98 percent, after your last conversation with that sonofabitch.
Sol: 98 is not a hundred.
Seth: Goddamnit! (Oops! Turns his head toward the Rev.)
Rev: Good day, Sirs.
Sol: Good day, Reverend!
---
(Out in the street, facing the Bella Union – we hear Jane talking before the camera goes inside the
Grand Central)

Jane: I said they’d find a way to stop me. (Now we’re inside the hotel)
Utter: If it’s raisin’ room rates, you have to go ahead and raise ‘em.
EB: Rates aren’t the only factor. There’s a waiting list for occupancy.
Jane: You undertaker lookin’ sonofabitch. This little girl’s doctor ordered to live indoors and I’m
assigned to change her dressings!
EB: A sad story, that’s none of my affair, Madam. If I guess your sex correct?
Wild Bill: (Entering) What’s the problem, innkeeper?
EB: Mr. Hickok.
Utter: Little one took fever in that wagon last night, Bill. (Brom starts coming down the stairs, pauses)
And I though 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 little
girl? But the Simpson Hotel’s closed its doors. If Mr. Utter is vacating, shouldn’t these people
that have been trying me all morning get first call? Isn’t that simple fairness?
Jane: He don’t give a fuck all for fairness! He just don’t want me in here.
Wild Bill: Well how ‘bout if he stays in his room and the lady moves in with me? (Jane tucks her
smiling face into Sophia’s neck) That way no one’s vacating nothing.
EB: That would outflank the checkout issue. But it might raise questions of decorum.
Wild Bill: With who?
EB: No one of consequence I suppose.
Wild Bill: Let her in. I’m goin’ to get some breakfast.
EB: There will be a rate adjustment. (Jane eyes EB)
Brom: (Coming down the stairs) Good morning.
EB: I’ve heard the stories, Madam, I tell you that at flag fall. You are here on sufferance.
Jane: Kiss my ass! (They go upstairs)
---
(Back at the Gem in Al’s bedrooms, Al is seated, we see him from behind and we see someone – it ends
up being Trixie – brushing his coat.)

Al: Cocksuckers. Where were they when Dan and me were, chopping trees in this gulch? Hands all
blistered. Bucktooth fuckin’ beavers rolling around in the creek. Slappin’ their tails in the water
like we was hired entertainment.
Trixie:I’d pay a nickel to see you choppin’ wood.
Al: Yeah. Don’t think I wasn’t blow for blow with Dan. (Trixie helps him put on his jacket) I can
play that shit when I have to. (Straightens his bowtie) But I been to Chicago, too. (Turns around,
puts his arms out) How do I look?
Trixie:Like Christ crucified.
---
(Al enters the Bella Union)

Al: Guess this ain’t a hotel no more.


Joanie: Come see us tonight when we open. We’ll find ya a place to lay down.
Cy: And someone to keep your feet warm.
Al: I’m Al Swearengen. (Puts hand out) I own the joint across the street.
Eddie: The Gem?
Al: That’s it.
Cy: Cy Tolliver, Al. Ed Sawyer, Joanie Stubbs.
Al: You people must’ve trained with the heathens. Yeah, you know, you come up on us
unbeknownst.
Cy: How long you been in camp, Al?
Al: Well, this year, Cy, since March. I was here last year, too. But the fuckin’ cavalry drove us out.
Cy: Butt all the whites out, didn’t they?
Al: Oh deep fuckin’ thinkers in Washington put forward that policy. This year though, so many
soldiers desertin’ to prospect, give up the ghost let us all back in. And of course, Custer sorted
out the fuckin’ Sioux for us, so now we’re all as safe as in our mother’s tits.
Cy: Did a job for our side, didn’t he, Al?
Al: How ‘bout that long haired fuckin’ blowhard, huh? I’ll tell you this, son, you can mark my
words. Crazy Horse went into Little Big Horn, bought his people one good long term ass
fuckin’. (Pumps his fist back and forth) You do not want to be a dirt worshipping heathen, from
this fucking point forward. (Turns to Joanie) Pardon my French.
Joanie: Oh I speak French.
Al: Well, here we are, settin’ in the world’s problems and I been wonderin’, Cy, um, perhaps we
should talk about our areas of overlap so we’re not at each other’s throats, huh?
Cy: Give me a for instance, Al.
Al: Ah, women. Would we want to agree on rates?
Joanie: Well, far as pussy, Al, we’ll want to let the market sort itself out.
Al: Sounds to me like I’m up against specialty acts. How ‘bout table games? Any overlap there?
Eddie: We’ll be featuring craps, Al.
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?
Eddie: We’ll have it.
Al: That decision hard and fast?
Cy: I just don’t see overlap bein’ a problem, Al. Even where we duplicate. We’re offerin’ differing
atmosphere, you’re a pioneerin’ type, a trailblazer type. You’re gonna draw a trailblazin’
element.
Al: Meanin’ I get the one’s that don’t wash?
Eddie: Must cut through the stink though when they walk in with those sacks full of gold.
Al: Oh, the money spends definitely.
Cy: Anyways, thanks for the neighborly visit.
Al: Yeah, good to meet you. Very good luck to you. You’re opening at eight o’clock, huh?
Eddie: That’s what we’re aimin’ at.
Al: Eight o’clock. Good for you. (Al leaves)
Eddie: Wouldn’t set a fire right away.
Cy: Come to case us, though. He would set a fire. (Watching Al leave – in the street, Al turns and
looks up at the sign)
---
(Back at the absurd restaurant)

Wild Bill: Way you tell it, Mister, man didn’t sell you that claim holding a gun to your head.
Brom: And frankly, Mr. Hickok, being a novice in these matters, I was duped. And now the seller’s
disappeared. You checked into his room. (Looking at Charlie)
Utter: Sound like you’re up shit’s creek.
Brom: Seller had accomplices, gentlemen. Men of…what passes for position in this place. Now I
would pay a handsome bounty, if they were brought to make restitutions.
Wild Bill: Sorry you lost your money, Mister. But I ain’t for hire to rob it back.
Brom: I make no terms as to method.
Wild Bill: You don’t figure a good talkin’ to would do the trick?
Brom: I’m not leaving camp…without my money.
Utter: Mister, that fella you said had my room before me?
Brom: Yeah, a man named Tim Driscoll, yes, pure charlatan.
Utter: Fresh stain on the floor when I moved in. He may a checked out, short a useful amount of blood.
Brom: Wouldn’t surprise me in the least.
Utter: That would make these accomplices you’re talkin’ about, dangerous people to deal with.
Brom: Yes, I quite take your point. No honor among thieves. Well…thanks for your time. I’ll pursue
my remedies in some other fashion. (Brom leaves)
Wild Bill: I don’t think he took you point…quite.
Utter: I think he quite missed it.
Wild Bill: I believe I’ll pass out, Charlie.
Utter: I guess you were playin’ poker all night, huh?
Wild Bill: Yes, Sir.
Utter: When we was comin’ into camp I saw that ah, Montana fella you seemed to like.
Wild Bill: Bullock had my back again last night.
Utter: Why, he was seein’ to the results this mornin’.
Wild Bill: Man has an act of conscience.
Utter: What would you think of us and him and his friend ah, havin’ dinner tonight?
Wild Bill: Why?
Utter: People gotta eat, don’t they, Bill? And maybe you’d enjoy sittin’ with someone who wasn’t
lookin’ to beat you at cards. Or blow your fuckin’ head off.
Wild Bill: True enough. Mark me down for a yes. (Wild Bill heads upstairs)
---
(Back in Al’s office, Al is sitting at his desk with Johnny, EB and Jimmy Irons across from him)

Al: I want to know who did that 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.
Al: Do not repeat back to me, what I just said in different fuckin’ words! And I wanna know who
cut the cheese? (Al, making Mr. Smelly-face – goes to the balcony doors) I’ll tell you this for
openers. We are gonna set off and area on the balcony. (Opens doors) 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 much onto their (camera stops on Jimmy) fuckin’ heads and
we’ll see how they like fartin’ from that position. Okay? (High mocking voice) Oh, I hate to
press you on the lot, Mr. Swearengen. (normal) Wouldn’t that be a setup If they were all of the
same fuckin’ party?
EB: You think them hardware guys and Hickok, might be the advance party for them saloon
operators, Al?
Al: You just did the same fucking thing I told you not to. (Turns head to Johnny) Get them, too, say
I’m ready to conclude on their offer. Stop at Wu’s on the way. (Johnny jumps up from his chair
to leave) Tell him either he feeds his pigs Persimmon Phil tonight, or I serve him…raw loin of
oriental.
Johnny: I though you forgot all about that, Al. I thought it just sorta slipped through the cracks.
(leaves)
Al: (To Jimmy) Faro dude at the new joint. Dope fiend. Tall guy skanky red beard.
Jimmy: You want me to get next to him, Mr. Swearengen? Let me take a few dollars, I’ll go play at his
table.
Al: Stop hustling. I’ll give you dope when you bring that cocksucker here.
Jimmy: He’s as good as standin’ in front of you, Mr. Swearengen. (Jimmy gets up and leaves. EB
stands up also – Al puts his hand out to stop him.)
Al: Stick around. (EB sits, Al sits in the chair next to him) Help me measure where their loyalties lie.
EB: These hardware guys? (Al shuts his eyes and sighs)
---
(Up in Brom and Alma’s room at the hotel…)

Brom: The burden falls on me, Alma. That much is now clear.
Alma: Do you think there’s any possibility that Mr. Hickok might reconsider? (Brom gets up)
Brom: None. Nor was I sure that, if he’d agreed the man before me at that breakfast table was equal to
the task. (Alma gets up and stands behind Brom, putting her arm around him)
Alma: Promise me one thing then, Brom.
Brom: Don’t ask me to amend my purpose.
Alma: That before seeing Mr. Swearengen, you take your walk. (Brom turns and hugs Alma)
Brom: To clear my head and reflect?
Alma: If only to perfect your arguments.
Brom: I see. I accept the suggestion and a feeling for it’s author.
Alma: Thank you.
Brom: If I’m stooped when next you see me, Alma, won’t be worry weighing me down, but bags of our
recovered gold.
Alma: Take your walk, dear.

(Brom hugs her again and leaves, as Alma is shutting the door she sees Jane peeking out from behind
her own door, their eyes lock for a moment and Alma opens her door wider as if to speak, Jane quickly
slams her door shut. Brom is bent over looking at something – why, it’s Wild Bill Hickok!)

Brom: It’s Hickok, Alma. Unconscious.


Alma: I see.
Brom: I take this as proof my reservations were well founded.

(Alma shuts the door and walks over to her vanity and prepares another dope drink)
---
(In Jane & Hickok’s room, Jane is talking to Sophia, who is sleeping)

Jane: To consider it to disturb us. Wouldn’t have truck with that…room clerk ghoul to get let into
Charlie’s rather than sleep in the fuckin’ hallway, that’s the kind of man he is. I own you another
fuckin’ penny. Owe you another one. I don’t know if you should ever learn English, never mind foul,
spare you knowin’ how ignorant people are. But then I could tell you about Bill…sleepin’ in the
hallway out a thought for others. And I know some other fuckin’ stories too. Owe you another penny.
---
(Out in the street, Jack McCall is checking out the goods at Sol & Seth’s tent.)

Seth: Look at that jackass.


Sol: Help you with anything?
Jack: I tell ya, he’s bein’ done a favor this exact moment. Or would you care to take a guess. A favor
in this tent.
Sol: I’d guess it’s you doin’ one for yourself, Sir, considering quality goods.
Jack: Favor here’s bein’ done for Wild Bill fuckin’ Hickok.
Seth: What are you talking about?
Jack: ‘Cause if I’m out prospectin’ in the hills, then he ain’t gettin’ his just desserts. At the poker table
or otherwise. Don’t ask me what I mean by the last part.
Seth: What do you mean?
Jack: And I said you’d do better not askin’.
Seth: Get outta here.
Jack: I’ll buy this one. What’s the price on that?
Seth: You ain’t buyin’ nothin’. (Jack turns around and sees Charlie)
Jack: I know you. Where do I know you from?
Utter: Can’t help you with that, partner.
Jack: You follow him around. (Laughs. Seth grabs him and runs him forward, tossing him in the
muck) Hey!
Seth: That tent’s shut to you. Don’t come back there.
Jack: (talking to himself) Fuck you. Any plans I might’ve had to buy somethin’, or prospect.
Utter: I’d be lousy at retail. I guarantee you that much. Wouldn’t have the patience for it.
Sol: I’m not sure how much future he’s got.
Utter: Anyways I want to tell you fellas, several days I’ll be goin’ back to Cheyenne. Try and secure a
mail route. I operate a freight business outta there. You need re-supply, I’ll be bringin’ several
wagons back.
Sol: That’s good to know.
Utter: And ah, I was, ah (takes hat off) half wonderin’ too if…if you’d want to join Bill and me for
dinner. Tonight or some other time. (Seth smiling)
Seth: Let’s do it tonight.
Utter: Feel like I should’ve brung posies. (Johnny approaches.)
Sol: Afternoon. Can I help you find something?
Johnny: Mr. Swearengen wants to see ya. (Leaves)
---
(Alma is looking out the window, drink in hand, she sees Brom approach the Gem, he pauses, puffing a
cigar, then continues on his walk. Alma finishes her drink)
---
(At the Gem, Al is seated downstairs with Sol and Seth. Dan and EB are seated on either side of Al,
nearby but not at the table.)

Al: I only hope you understand my being short with you out in the street this morning.
Sol: You had a lot on your mind.
Al: I had a lot of 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.
Seth: What’s your thinkin’ today?
Al: 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?
Sol: Nope.
Seth: Not them and not Bill Hickok. And all we want to do is run a hardware business.
Al: I have got to be satisfied. See, I’m the simple type cocksucker. That when he sees lightening,
readies for thunder. And takes the thunder if it comes from part of the same fuckin’ storm.
Sol: Why wouldn’t ya, Mr. Swearengen?
Al: Well thank you for sayin’ that, even if you don’t fuckin’ mean it.
Seth: What would make you comfortable sellin’ to us? (Al looks at EB, EB raises his head and
eyebrows, kinda smiles)
Al: Thousand. Plus right of first refusal on any further sale.
Sol: Accepted.
Al: And right to buy back at the original price, plus the cost of your improvements.
Sol: Accepted.
Al: No gambling on the fuckin’ premises. No association of any kind with these Bella Union
cocksuckers.
Sol: Accepted.
Seth: We can’t sell ‘em our goods?
Al: No. What do you think of that?
Sol: Accepted.
Al: What do you think?
Seth: (pauses) Accepted.
Al: Or, they could buy your wares in your normal course of your normal fucking business. I’d guess
it’d be okay to transact with these cocksuckers.
Seth: So we can sell ‘em our wares?
Al: Your normal fucking wares. No gambling, whoring or whiskey on the fucking premises is the
chief fucking point.
Sol: Agreed. (Puts his hand out)
Al: I spit in my hand. (Does so) Will that drive you screaming into the hills? (Sol spits in his own
hand and they shake, Al then shakes with Seth – hmm, no spit there) The ah, thousand’d be nice.
Sol: (counting) 20, 40, 60, 80, 100
EB: Happy outcome.
Sol: 20, 40, 60, 80, 200…
---
(Out in the street, Charlie is talking to the guy that sells soap and later, Indian head hair)

Shyster: A shootin’ exhibition.


Utter: That idea for Mr. Hickok’s been had and acted upon. By a few people before you.
Shyster: And then, afterward, we cut the bullets out. And (Charlie spots EB leaving the Gem, skulking
around) the fuckin’ playin’ cards he was usin’ as targets. That’s the point I was tryin’ to get to.
Utter: How ‘bout the tree bark (Seth and Sol emerge) behind the fuckin’ playing card targets, huh?
(walks away towards Seth & Sol)
Shyster: (running after Charlie) Hell, yeah, we’ll sell the fuckin’ bark.
Utter: What do you say, fellas?
Sol: We got our lot, Mr. Utter.
Utter: Well, Hooray for you boys.
Shyster: Two days, for me to get the word out. 10 cents to watch, and we’ll charge for the souvenirs.
Utter: I ain’t gonna take you up on that, Mister.
Shyster: Another 20 for you on the quiet.
Utter: No. And the talk between us is over.
Shyster: Soap! Soap with a prize inside! (walking away) Soap! (EB is still skulking around – getting
closer to the Bella Union)
Utter: Got that man to sell, ah?
Sol: Never had to strain to spend a thousand dollars.
Seth: Will you let us outta dinner?
Utter: You a soon not do it, ah?
Seth: We’d like to get to buildin’.
Sol: Will we see you tomorrow for breakfast?
Utter: Sure. Maybe we’ll catch Bill comin’ back from cards, huh? Well ah, congratulations to both of
ya.
Sol: Thanks, Mr. Utter. (Shakes hands with Charlie)
Seth: Thank you. (Shakes hands with him as well)
Utter: Ah, good luck to ya. (Leaves the boys walk on)
Sol: Looks like we’re in business, huh? (Pats Seth on the back, Seth looks at him and smiles)
---
(EB has finally skulked up to the entrance of the Bella Union and sneaks in)

EB: My goodness, my heavens. My goodness gracious. Heaven’s to Betsy.


Eddie: What do you think? Hiram, ever seen a craps layout?
EB: My first.
Eddie: Shall I show you how it works?
EB: I might could follow. I do, read and cipher.
Eddie: Well, you’re well on advance of the pack. Tell me what this says.
EB: C-O-M-E. It says “come.”
Eddie: You really can read, can’t ya?
EB: I wasn’t raised to lie. I’m liable to be killed, Eddie. He’s on my scent and closin’.
Eddie: Curious tactics your comin’ here then, E.B.
EB: To remind you secrecy’s of the essence. Al Swearengen’s a dangerous man. Let him doubt
those he’s trusted, this camp will run red with blood.
Eddie: Argues for raising your room rates, at least make the game worth the candle.
EB: I wonder how cavalier your attitude’ll be with a pig gnawing through your vitals.
Eddie: Bet on me screaming for mercy.
EB: Turn down your offer to buy and pointed you to Artie Simpson. Whole damn extent of my
involvement. And I’m starin’ straight at extinction.
Eddie: He may get you anyway, E.B., but if your nerve goes, he’ll get you sure.
---
(Up in Al’s office, Jimmy has brought Leon to see him)

Al: Now, dope is not my own preferred form of relaxation, but I did try the shit and believe me…I
nearly converted.
Leon: And Jimmy said you’d do right by me, Mr. Swearengen.
Al: Everything…that goes on at that place.
Leon: I’ll give you a daily report.
Al: Yeah. (Hands Leon the dope and walks to the window. He sees E.B. emerge from the Bella
Union, E.B. pockets something – money? Al’s face changes in sudden realization) He’s the type
I’d wanna know about. Just left your joint. Judas goat lookin’ fella. (Grabs Leon’s head and
holds it looking out the window) Hey, you see him? Coyote movin’ type? You see him?
Leon: The short guy?
Al: Yeah, with is paws always damp like he just shit fuckin’ turd. That’s the type I’d wanna know
about. (Lets go of Leon’s head) Comings, goings, and dealings with your bosses.
Leon: I keep a special eye on him.
Johnny: Al?
Al: Yeah.
Johnny: That cherry New York dude is downstairs askin’ for ya.
Al: No good. Charlie him the fuck out. (Johnny approaches Al’s side)
Johnny: He keeps talkin’ about the Pinkertons.
---
(Downstairs, Brom is smoking his cigar)

Al: Dan Dority, thought you were dead.


Brom: Yes, I didn’t go to the claim this morning.
Al: You should’ve told him. I’ve had him here the last several hours in tears. Dan! Look! He’s
alive!
Dan: Thank God.
Brom: Yeas, I chose not to go to the claim.
Al: Whiskey Brom, snatch?
Brom: Frankly, Al, I’m here to speak with you. And I’m not to be distracted.
Al: Then proceed, my son, speak frankly.
Brom: 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.
(Dan. Listening, sits down close the conversation)
Al: Have you?
Brom: And I want my 20,000 dollars back.
Al: In the heat you’ve confused me with Tim Driscoll.
Brom: 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.
Al: It’s the heat again, Brom, I don’t collude and don’t cahoot.
Brom: Al, are you familiar with the Pinkerton agency?
Al: Why?
Brom: Pursuing its business interest my family’s had several occasions to engage the Pinkertons. We
maintain friendly relations. And I’d prefer we two settle this as gentlemen, but if need be, the
Pinkerton’s can be made a party to our dispute.
Al: Has he asked you to reconnoiter the rims with him at all?
Dan: Never.
Al: Did he ask to and you refused?
Dan: Didn’t get around to it, Al. I thought he was in for the long haul.
Brom: But what are you talking about specifically?
Al: 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 of gold you found washed
down from is likely on your claim above, near one of the rims.
Brom: And that’s what you feel I should reconnoiter?
Al: First place the Pinkertons would look. Unless I’m fuckin’ wrong.
Dan: No, that’s how they operate.
Al: So if he asks you, would you reconnoiter the rims with him?
Dan: Al, I waited out there all morning for him—
Al: Is that a yes or a no?
Dan: Yeah. I’d be happy to reconnoiter the rims with him.
Brom: And if Dan’s in my 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?
Al: If at that point you ask, yes, I’ll make restitution. All rights, all wrongs aside, ‘cause you’ve got
me by the fuckin’ balls.
Brom: Let me go home and change. (Brom turns to leave and Dan gets up) Ah, do I need climbing
gear?
Dan: You might want to bring a pickaxe.
Brom: Fine, then. (Leaves)
Al: (To Dan) Make it look like an accident.
---
(Back on the hotel stairs…)

Utter: (Whispering) Ain’t this a pretty picture.


Jane: (Whispering) I can’t (??) what I don’t know about.
Utter: Passed out in the public hallway.
Jane: 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 heel?
Wild Bill: I says leave him where he is and go about your own business.
Jane: He’s up. I hope you’re happy. Congratulations, cocksucker.
Utter: Dinner’s been cancelled, Bill.
Wild Bill: Alright.
Utter: Them two fellas got their lot bought and they’re ah, started right ahead with the buildin’.
Wild Bill: Sure.
Jane: I-I was that shocked seeing you sleepin’ out here, Bill. First saw ya maybe an hour ago. Didn’t
want to disturb me and the child, Charlie. Why, he must’ve sought entry to your room, wherever
the fuck you were at.
Utter: Well, I’d like to know where that goddamned inn keep was! He could’ve let Bill in.
Wild Bill: You’re not gonna let me sleep, are ya?
Jane: Well, I’da let you sleep as long as you wanted, Bill.
Wild Bill: (Gets up, sighing) How’s that little one?
Jane: Good. She’s nappin’. More than I can say for you.
Wild Bill: Are those hardware boys lookin’ for extra hands?
Utter: In a round about way.
---
(Back in Brom & Alma’s room)

Alma: I don’t agree with this plan.


Brom: Reconnoitering the rims is exactly the sort of due diligence that father would ask if I’d done.
Alma: Nor do I see the need to involve your father.
Brom: It was my mentions of the Pinkertons, Alma, which brought Al 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.
Alma: Ought’n 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.
Brom: Let them rest?
Alma: 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.
Brom: I have no abiding affection for this camp, Alma. But I won’t leave without my money. (Alma
turns and sits at her vanity, preparing another dope drink) Why do you take that medicine?
Alma: You know why. To relieve my headaches.
Brom: 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. (Alma drinks)
Alma: Perhaps the sexes experience the medicine differently?
Brom: In any case, I um, hope you feel better. (Turns and starts to leave)
Alma: Thank you.
---
(Al, on the balcony, is watching the Grand opening of the Bella Union.)

EB: (Clearing throat)


AL: EB. Thanks for coming.
EB: Whistle (Whistles) and I’m underfoot. Loyal as a damn dog. I tell you what, Al, you got a hell
of a nice turnout downstairs. Hell of a nice Monday crowd.

(Cy checks his pocket watch and motions to the gunman who steps forward and fires several shots into
the air. The crowd cheers.)

EB: Jesus Christ Almighty.


Al: Go ahead in, E.B.
EB: I’m not in dutch, am I, Al?
Al: Go ahead in.

(EB turns, dejected, inside. Al watches Cy eye him and enter the Bella Union. A crowd surges into the
new saloon.)

---
(Wild Bill is hammering away at the hardware lot…)

Nathan: Mr. Hickok? I’m Nathan Gordon. I come up from Murphy’s Borough and…
Wild Bill: How are you, Nathan? (Smiles)
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.
Wild Bill: (laughs) I’d call that a fair judgment.
Nathan: I-I saw you on a stage in Hartford, Connecticut and I’da bet U.S. currency that you’d been
strangled and killed, you just didn’t know you was dead yet.
Wild Bill: Was you born patient, Montana, or did you cultivate it?
Seth: I guess I’m patient for labor.
Jerk: Now why the fuck tell him that type story?
Nathan: Why I saw him perform with Buffalo Bill Cody and, Texas Jack Omaha and threw on a stage
in Harford, Connecticut.
Jerk: Who gives a fuck? You think he was put on earth to hear you run him down?
Wild Bill: I’m alright, friend.
Jerk: No, why don’t you get outta my sight, before I do somethin’ I’ll fuckin’ regret.
Nathan: Well I’ll tell whatever kinda story I feel like tellin’.
Jerk: That’s right, tell it walkin’.
Seth: Anyways, me and Sol are sure grateful you and Mr. Utter are takin’ the time to help.
Jerk: Go ahead about your work, Mr. Hickok. He won’t bother you no more.
Wild Bill: Charlie encourages me bein’ in your company. He feels you’re a positive influence.
Jerk: No reason you’d remember me but I saw you marshal at Abilene. Saw you blow one
cocksucker’s head right the fuck off his neck. I also saw you…dead center three bullets on a ace
of spade playing card at 25 goddamned paces. Some other loud-mouth like this loud-mouth I
just sorted out, said you’d doctored that playing card before you ever tacked it to that tree.
Wild Bill: And did you sort him out, too?
Jerk: Goddamned right.
Wild Bill: Well thanks for all that help. Now it’s time you moved along.
Jerk: I sorted him out proper. Gouged out the both of his fuckin’ eyes.
Utter: Alright, friend!
Wild Bill: Move along, I’m tired of listenin’ to ya.
Jerk: You’re tired of listenin’?
Seth: That’s what he said.
Jerk: Oh, I guess everybody’s talkin’ to me now.
Wild Bill: Get the fuck outta here!
Jerk: Alright, I hear you, Wild Bill. You don’t need to insult me twice. (Starts to leave, turns back
around) 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 ya in this camp!

(Everyone is quiet for a moment while the Jerk walks off)

Utter: Hand me, hand me some of them pegs, would ya? Hey, want some pegs, Bill?
Wild Bill: I’m gonna desert you. (Gets up and puts his hammer away) Play some poker. Drink
some whiskey. (Puts on his hat)
Seth: Thanks for your help.
Wild Bill: See ya later, Charlie.
Utter: Alright, Bill.
Sol: Ready, Lift! Oh, there we go. (They all help to raise one of the wall frames)
---
(Al is watching the hardware boys from his window)

Al: For havin’ nothin’ to do with him, these hardware cocksuckers sure seemed to be joined to
Hickok at the hip.
EB: You make your judgment on that situation, Al. And I believe you judge correct.
Al: No connection between them and him? Or between any of them, and these new saloon people?
EB: You saw it like that and I did too. To the best of the both of our thinking.
Al: Which was important to me.
EB: Which was?
Al: What?
EB: When you said which was, I didn’t follow what you were askin’.
Al: I wasn’t askin’ nothin’. I was sayin’, I didn’t have full information so your impression on this
was important. Someone I could trust. What’s wrong? What’s the matter?
EB: Ah, my palms are damp.
Al: They’re always damp.
EB: Yes, sir.
Al: So is something…wrong?
EB: no, no.
---
(Out at the claim, Brom and Dan are walking along the creek – Ellsworth is at his camp, observing)

Ellsworth: Well, the great prospector’s found his second wind.


---
(Back in Al’s office…)

EB: You tell me, Al. Have you a doubt or misgiving? You tell me.
Al: Generally, if I have a misgiving, or a doubt, I kill the cocksucker I have a doubt and misgiving
about.
EB: But these are special circumstances.
Al: I don’t know what you mean by special circumstances. If I want to, I can burn the whole fuckin’
camp down.
EB: Yes, you can.
Al: Cut your throat first, and them burn down the whole fucking camp.
EB: You can---
Al: So I don’t know what the fuck you mean.
EB: I mean, short of burnin’ it all down, you gotta trust someone. (EB is sweating, very nervous)
Al: What were you doing over there?
EB: Where?
Al: Where?
EB: At the Bella Union? Got an impression scouting. Listen to me, listen to me. I was the go-
between, it was me. But without, m-malicious intention.
---
(Brom and Dan are now climbing the rim – Dan sets down his lantern…)

Brom: Well, I confess to being winded. (Turns around, sees Dan’s “Don’t mess with me mo-fo” look
onhis face) Oh no, Dan. No. No. (Dan grabs him) Mother. (Dan throws him from the cliff)
---
(Back in Al’s office…)

EB: 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’ eat by the pigs. In
case there is resurrection of the flesh.
Al: (Licks his lips and leans in close to EB’s ears) Stay friendly with them cocksuckers.
EB: With them Bella Union people?
Al: You can’t help yourself, can you? (EB smiles and leaves)
---
(Back at the claim, Dan is heading down to the rocks where Brom landed. Brom is breathing
laboriously. Dan feels around Brom’s neck and picks up a gold nugget)

Dan: You fell, but ah, but you’ll be alright. (Put the nugget in his pocket) I’m gonna take care of ya.
Just ah, just hold on a second. No hollerin’. (Ellsworth is watching, with the dog by his side.
Dan picks away at the moss covered wall revealing a quartz outcrop. He covers it with some
branches and returns to Brom who is still gasping for breath…) I’ll take care of ya. (Grabs
Brom’s head and lifts it up) Now, hush. (Grunting, Dan smashes Brom’s head into the rocks and
Ellsworth takes off. Dan looks up and sees him)
---
(At the Bella Union, Bill is playing cards. Cy is watching him…)

Joanie: Tina and Molly can be quiet if you want him kept company.
Cy: That man’s already doin’ all he wants to. If I send him anyone, it’d be you. (Joanie smiles and
walks off. Piano playing in the background. Cy nods to Eddie and motions Leon over to him)
Are you loaded, Leon?
Leon: Well on the path, Mr. Tolliver. That man at the Gem has got some serious shit.
Cy: I know when you make you first report on us to him, you’ll remember to say thanks.
Eddie: I hope you’re not too fucked up to deal the deuce for us, Leon.
Leon: Opium ain’t been made yet, Mr. Sawyer, that can fuck me up that bad. (Cy laughs, Leon goes
back to his table)
Eddie: I’ll tug his reins.
Cy: I hope our hero wins.
Eddie: Count on it. (Looking at Wild Bill)
---
(Back in Wild Bill’s room, Jane is keeping vigil over Sophia, who is awake right now)

Jane: If Bill comes, I’m gonna move you (triangulatin’ hands toward Sophia) to that nice pallet (now
moves her hands toward the far side of the room) 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
bein’ where we are (trangulatin’ hands back to the bed), is the circumstances of the room period
and the grownups are just sleepin’. But don’t be afraid to, to, to, wake me up. (hands on hips –
looks around) Alright. (sits down) Sweetheart, go to sleep. (Folds hands up on the side of her
face like one of those sleeping precious moments dolls- miming sleep. Sophia does the same with
her hands and rolls over on her side, shuts her eyes) I’m right here.
---
(Up in Al’s office, Trixie is scraping Al’s feet with a straight razor…)

Al: Not too fucking deep, huh?


Trixie:I won’t.
Al: Trust. Hell of a way to operate, huh? Look at all the ins and outs of gettin’ killed. Not too
fucking deep. (Trixie brushes the side of his foot and scrapes again, gently) Every fuckin’
beatin’ I’m grateful for. Every fuckin’ one of them. Get all the trust beat outta you. And you
know what the fuckin’ world is. (Trixie looks up at him, they look at each other a moment.
Someone knocks on the door)
Dan: Al, open up, it’s me, it’s Dan! You’re gonna wanna hear this, open up! (Trixie opens the door,
Dan looks a t her like “WTF you doin’ here?”)
Al: Come here, sit down. (Points to the stool at the foot of the bed where Trixie was just sitting –
Trixie goes out to the balcony…)
Dan: Well, it’s a mixed report.
Al: You just tell me, is it done?
Dan: Oh, it’s done. Yeah, he’s gone.
Al: So what’s the mixture?
Dan: He went ownin’ one hell of a fuckin’ gold strike. (Trixie, out on the balcony, sees Alma looking
out her window with a worried look on her face – their eyes meet)
Al: Where’s the dude now?
Dan: Splattered at the bottom of the ridge.
Al: Ride back out. Bring him back in at dawn.
Dan: Alright. (Dan leaves)
Al: Trixie! (Trixie comes back in and sits back down)
Trixie:You want the other foot?
Al: Yeah. Please. (Their eyes meet)

Main Cast:
Timothy Olyphant .... Seth Bullock
Ian McShane .... Al Swearengen
Molly Parker .... Alma Garret
Jim Beaver .... Ellsworth
Brad Dourif .... Doc Cochran
John Hawkes .... Sol Star
Paula Malcomson .... Trixie
Leon Rippy .... Tom Nuttall
William Sanderson .... Eustis Baily (E.B.) Farnum
Robin Weigert .... Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown .... Dan Dority
Dayton Callie .... Charlie Utter

Guest Appearances:
Bill Bolender
Powers Boothe Cy Tolliver
Sean Bridgers Johnny Burns
Keith Carradine Wild Bill Hickock
Larry Cedar Leon
Kim Dickens Joannie Stubbs
Garret Dillahunt Jack McCall
Gill Gayle Huckster (aka Shyster)
Peter Jason Stapleton
Ricky Jay Eddie Sawyer
Geri Jewell Jewel
Jeffrey Jones A.W. Merrick
Sarah Lund Bella Whore
Joel McKinnon Miller Nathan Gordon
Ray McKinnon Rev. H.W. Smith (as Raymond McKinnon)
Timothy Omundson Brom Garret
Dean Rader-Duval Jimmy Irons
Tahmus Rounds
Tom Simmons
Bree Seanna Wall Metz Girl
Clay Wilcox Loudmouth Drunk in the Gem Saloon

Publicity images & episode content © 2004 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved. HBO and
Deadwood are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2004 Cristi H. Brockway. The
copyright claimed by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her personal contribution of material not
contained in the episode from which this transcript was compiled. Any commercial use of this transcript
is expressly prohibited.
Episode #4 “Here Was a Man”
(Open at the Bella Union, a card game is under way between Wild Bill Hickok and Jack McCall.
Joanie Stubbs is the dealer)

Jack: I raise a hundred.


Wild Bill: Back a hundred.
Jack: That man’s overplayin’ his hand. (Sniffs) I… (Pushes chips forward) Whatever the fuck
I got left.
Joanie: (To Hickok) Four twenty back to you. (Hickok lays cards on the table)
Jack: As advertised. You got more nerve than sense, huh, Bill?
Joanie: (To McCall) What have you got?
Jack: (Throws cards on table) Man stays on fours. And they call this a game of skill? Well,
you gutted me, didn’tcha, Bill? You sonofabitch.
Cy: (Comes over, whispers) You were told about that talk.
Wild Bill: (Slides a single coin across the table) Go eat, Jack.
Jack: Alright. I thank you for that kindness. You just bought yourself somethin’ with that.
(Gets up and walks out)
Cy: (Whispers to Eddie) Some boys just can’t go near a cliff without jumpin’ off.
Wild Bill: Twenty to the dealer. Much appreciated.
Joanie: Any ideas for the rest?
Wild Bill: I believe I’ll stay with cash.

---
(It is late in the night, and Bullock is hammering atop the soon-to-be hardware store. Hickok is
passing, on his way back from a long night of poker.)

Wild Bill: Montana.


Seth: No rest for the wicked.
Wild Bill: Well, what are you doin’ up?
Seth: Well, it’s cooler workin’ now. Quieter. Sorry you had to listen to them drunken fools
before, Mr. Hickok, when you and Mr. Utter was helpin’ us?
Wild Bill: I come through unharmed. And “Bill”’d be easier on my nerves. “Mr. Hickok”
makes me look for the warrant in your hand.
Seth: Alright.
Wild Bill: “Montana” Ok with you?
Seth: The only other nickname I ever had was “Sloth.”
Wild Bill: Don’t seem to fit.
Seth: Choice was among the seven sins. I guess I got out before the others surfaced.
Wild Bill: (Voices are heard faintly in the distance) Camp looks like a good bet.
Seth: My wife and boy are with her people in Michigan. I hope I can bring ‘em out soon.
Wild Bill: They’ll get the Sioux making peace. Pretty quick you’ll have laws here and,
every other damn thing.
Seth: I’d just settle for property rights.
Wild Bill: Will ya? I’m recently married myself.
Seth: Is that so?
Wild Bill: The Missus operates a circus. She’s in Cincinnati. Waiting for word of my
success.
Seth: Sol and I put our last sifting cradle aside for ya. Why don’t you go ahead and use it, Bill.
Wild Bill: What slows me down is thinking about freezing my balls off in a creek for the
cocksuckers I’d lose the gold to at poker. I’m flat out tired.
Seth: Turn in. I got her covered.
Wild Bill: I believe I will. ‘Night, Montana.
Seth: ‘Night, Bill.
Wild Bill: My pop called me “Kite.” (Makes an erratic hand gesture)

---
(A room at the Grand Central Hotel.)
Utter: I’s supposed to leave for Cheyenne two damn hours ago.
Wild Bill: What kept ya, Charlie?
Utter: You don’t fuckin’ sleep! I don’t know what the fuck is happenin’ to you, Bill.
Wild Bill: So ya stayed in camp to tuck me in.
Utter: If ya don’t wanna prospect, I can put ya in charge of that mail route I’m gettin'.
Wild Bill: I’m doin’ what I wanna do.
Utter: Bullshit!
Wild Bill: Some goddamn time, a man’s due to stop arguin’ with hisself. Feeling he’s twice
the goddamn fool he knows he is, because he can’t be something he tries to be every
goddamn day without once getting to dinner time and not fucking it up. I don’t wanna
fight it no more. Understand me, Charlie? And I don’t want you pissing in my ear about
it. Can you let me go to hell the way I want to?
Utter: (With his back to Hickok, nods resignedly) Yeah. I can do that. (Gets up to leave)
Wild Bill: Good luck in Cheyenne.
Utter: Good luck to you. Too, Bill.

---
(Early morning. Al is watching Dan leading a horse back to camp, with the Dude’s body slung
over it. E.B. Farnum is speaking.)

EB: You know me, Al. I don’t scrutinize or second-guess. Hm. Ha. If you wanted to
explain why I’m to buy the Dude out of a worthless claim I’d surely listen.
Al: Jesus Christ.
EB: What is it?
Al: The Dude musta had some kind of accident.
EB: (Joining Al at the window) My word.
Al: Looks dead, don’t he?
EB: Yes.
Al: See my reasoning was, get the Dude his money back. Keep him from askin’ in the
Pinkertons.
EB: Appears now that’s unnecessary.
Al: Make the offer to the wife.
---
(Alma Garret has seen Dan bringing back Brom’s body. With trembling hands, she begins
mixing a laudanum cocktail. Soon Dan is knocking at her door. She opens the door, and Dan is
there, hat in hand. Alma walks past Dan without a word and goes downstairs to Brom’s body.
Then we are back to Al and EB)

EB: Al? Once that dope fiend, throws her skirts over her head and hightails back to New
York, you think she’ll give one wet fart about what happened at this camp? Let alone
send the Pinkertons out. And twenty thousand’s a lot of money.
Al: Let me tell you. Several things, EB: First, twenty thousand dollars is a lot of money.
Second, it’s my…fucking…money. Third, the widow being a dope fiend might let
matters rest. But Fourth, when this camp has a lot more to offer me than twenty thousand
dollars as long as I don’t get killed by the fucking Pinkertons, why take the chance?
Go see to the grieving fucking widow.
EB: Alright, Sir.

---
(Alma approaches Brom’s body lying over the horse’s back, places her fingers in the bloody
mess of his forehead. Dan is standing near. And EB approaches.)

EB: Mrs. Garret? What a tragic turn. Do you require Doctor Cochran? To treat your terrible
grief.
Alma: Yes. I would like to see the doctor.
EB: Of course, who wouldn’t? I’ll get him right away.
Alma: Ask him? Before he sees me please, to examine my husband’s injuries. I’d like his
opinion on how they were sustained.
EB: I assume your husband died in a fall.
Alma: All I asked you to do was to get the goddamned doctor.
EB: Of course, Madam.
(Alma comes back to Dan.)
Alma: Is that what happened, Mr. Dority? A tragic turn? A terrible accidental fall?
Dan: I’m sorry, ma’am.
Alma: Oh, yes. (Goes back inside)
EB: (To the horse, as he leads it away) Come on, Stupid.

---
(Bullock, still working, sees EB bearing Brom’s body away. Then we see Dan speaking with Al.)

Dan: She wouldn’t have nothin’ to do with me, Al. She told EB, to have Doc go over the
body. (Washing his hands, then pouring a drink) You think he smells the gold?
Al: Nah. EB’s too busy sniffin’ what he can steal being go-between. Whereas you, Dan,
You show me foresight and loyalty, the way you handled makin’ the find.
Dan: Just know when I’m outta my depth.
---
(At Doc Cochran’s, we see EB having arrived with Brom’s body)
EB: Amateur. Comes on a lark to dabble, and falls to his death from a ridge. Yet the widow
suspects foul play. (Doc and EB carry the body to a bed inside) I know Al wants her
leaving here with as least of a sour taste in her mouth as possible, Doc.
Doc: Well, wouldn’t you expect her husband’s death to be sour on her tongue no matter how it
happened. (Examining the body)
EB: Question’s whether it’s fate she blames, or people in the camp. What’re you lookin’ for?

---
(Sol and Seth, at the hardware store construction. )

Sol: Mornin’, Seth. When’d ya get up?


Seth: I didn’t go to sleep. Woman that newspaper man pointed out to us yesterday just lost her
husband.
Sol: Ah, fella bought the gold claim at Swearengen’s saloon?
Seth: Inn keep just took the body down to the Doc’s.
Sol: (Looks up at Seth’s work) You weren’t twiddlin’ you thumbs over night, were ya?
(Smiles)

---
(Doc and EB enter the Grand Central Hotel and go up to Alma’s room as Merrick ladles some
unappetizing glop onto his plate at the hotel “restaurant.”)

EB: I’ve brought the doctor.


Alma: Please come in, Doctor.
Doc: I’m very sorry ‘bout ya husband---
Alma: (Interrupting) Was he murdered, Doctor?
Doc: I was told that he fell from a ridge. He had skull fractures consistent with that. Not been
wounded by bullets nor strangled. No other sign of foul play.
Alma: Leaving how he came to fall.
Doc: As to that I have no opinion.
Alma: And yet, in treating me, you were so full of opinion. You took the most comprehensive
view.
Doc: I said you needn’t make up symptoms to get the laudanum you want---
Alma: Perhaps you don’t feel, at such perfect liberty to opine, on my husband’s case as you did
on mine. Do other considerations constrain you? Do other men?
Doc: I do not know how your husband’s skull got caved in. You’re a bright woman,
aren’tcha? Must’ve gone through hell here. (Sits a bottle of laudanum on the table) Go
on home, Mrs. Garret. (Doc leaves, closing the door)
EB: (In the hallway, to Doc) What’s her mood? (Doc ignores him)
Alma: (Inside crying. She has smashed the laudanum on the floor. There is a knock at the door)
Who is it?!
EB: Mr. Farnum, Mrs. Garret. May I be of further service?
Alma: Once I’ve determined my plans. I’ll certainly need a coffin.
EB: I’ll see to it.
Alma: Thank you.
(More knocking)
Alma: What is it?!
EB: Would you open the door, ma’am? I’d like to say something to your face.(Alma
eventually opens the door) I’m overcome with remorse, Mrs. Garret, that I failed to
change the course of events. It was me your husband outbid for the claim. If it will
simplify your situation in any way, I renew my offer at twelve thousand. I know it won’t
bring him back.
Alma: No. We both know that. You’ll have your answer shortly.
EB: Alright, Madam.
Alma: (After EB leaves, goes to Hickok’s door and knocks. Jane opens the door) Is this Mr.
Hickok’s room?
Jane: Who’s askin’?
Alma: My husband’s just died, under suspicious circumstances--
Jane: Suspect someone else. When Bill’s killed a man, he says so and states his reasons.
Alma: I don’t suspect him. My husband had tried to engage Mr. Hickok just before his death,
and I thought, though they hadn’t come to terms, perhaps Mr. Hickok would be willing,
to advise me on my current situation. I’d pay whatever fee he thought appropriate.
Jane: To talk to ya?
Alma: I’ve no one else in the camp.
Jane: I’ll get him. He’s sleepin’ one off.
Alma: Thank you.
Jane: I’m sorry. About your husband.
Alma: May I ask your name?
Jane: Jane.
Alma: Thank you, Jane.
Jane: Ah, wait in your room. It, it’ll take him a while to get the phlegm situated.
Alma: Alright.

---
(Cy and Doc at the Bella Union)

Cy: I’m sure you don’t need me explainin’ a place like ours, a Doc in frequent attendance
can, sew the seeds of doubt.
Doc: All depends on your standards of hygiene.
Cy: We want ‘em shiny. Make no mistake.
Doc: There’s a wide range of normal.
Joanie: Friday and Saturday mornings and the mid-week day of your choice will be right
for us.
Doc: I can, I can work that out.
Cy: So what does Swearengen pay for a visit?
Doc: Twenty dollars for a routine call. All girls in.
Cy: Ah, and what’s his idea of routine? Once every three or four months? Ha. Anyway,
how’s ah…fifty dollars a visit sound. Three times a week?
Doc: Done.
Joanie: Lubricants.
Doc: Well, armed and ready, Madam.

(Man walks in, pays bag-carrier)


Andy Cramed: Thanks very much.
Cy: Howdy.
Andy: Howdy, yourself. You the operator?
Cy: Cy Tolliver.
Andy: Name’s Cramed. I’d like a room. I’d like exclusive use of a safe, and I’d like to shoot
some dice.
Cy: I’d like to think this is the first day of a looooong friendship, Mr. Cramed. We’ll get you
a room. If you’ll step into my office, we’ll meet your needs for a safe. Help you with
your luggage.
Andy: Suitcases go to the room.
Cy: ‘Spect you’ll keep the valise.
Andy: Keep what you expect to yourself and you’ll improve our chances at that friendship.
Cy: (To Andy, once they are inside his office) Young man.
Andy: How are you, Cy? Done some good work on this place.
Cy: Eddie’s work.
Joanie: Hey, Andy.
Andy: Hello, Sweetheart. So, let’s go. Let’s get something working.
Eddie: We could rob Cy.
Cy: Ha. How ‘bout a bath first and a nap and, some sex with an unfamiliar woman?
Andy: Sure.
Eddie: Signal when ready, Commander.
Andy: If I didn’t make my point, I’d like to get somethin’ fuckin’ workin’.
Eddie: Sure, Andy. (As Andy walks away)
Cy: How’s Andy look?
Joanie: Like he spent three weeks on a wagon.

---
(Al and EB at the Gem)

EB: I’m optimistic, Al. And she’s promised a prompt reply.


Al: I thought she’d say yes on the spot. You did offer her the whole twenty?
EB: How can you even ask me that?
Al: EB?
EB: I offered twelve.
Al: Did I ask you to play her? Can’t you follow one simple fucking instruction?
EB: She will take the twelve, Al, and be happy to get it. And all you’ll have to decide is how
much of the eight you saved should go to me.
Al: You’re incorrigible.
EB: I do my best.
Al: Ah, go weigh the twelve. She says yes, there should be something in this for you.
EB: Hint at the amount.
Al: Don’t get ahead of yourself, EB. When she signs the bill-of-sale, you come back here
and sign it over to me.
EB: (Snorts, laughs) It is your twelve after all.
Al: Once all that’s done, you should walk out of here with two thousand.
EB: Fair recompense.
Al: For saving me money in spite of myself.

---
(Alma Garrett begins to speak to Hickok and Jane while looking out her window.)

Alma: I suggested to my husband just last night that we should try to view our time here as one
experience bought at a single price. Even now he’s murdered I feel that. (Turns) To
s…to stake the boundaries at, at just that fact is impossible. For, for one, this camp
hasn’t any laws or, courts. If it did I’ve no evidence. I, I’d have tried to take the thing all
whole if they hadn’t offered on the claim. To receive their money, would be a separate
matter, make me an accomplice of another sort.
Wild Bill: How have you been an accomplice ‘til now?
Alma: A wife, inevitably feels, she’s had some part in what befalls her husband. I’m answerable
hereafter on different terms. I need, to know what I’d be selling them.
Wild Bill: You don’t believe the money’s to keep the Pinkertons away.
Alma: Why pay me? If it were, a ransom to keep the Pinkertons off, why not pay Brom instead
of killing him?
Wild Bill: It’s this saloon operator you think is pulling the strings?
Alma: Al Swearengen. It was, certainly he manipulating Brom.
Jane: The slimy limey cocksucker.
Wild Bill: Alright, ma’am. True sounding’s not guaranteed, but…I’ll try for a feel of the
bottom.
Alma: What shall I pay you, Mr. Hickok?
Wild Bill: I prefer you pick the figure.
Alma: Is one hundred dollars enough?
Wild Bill: Perfect.

---
(Hickok walks downstairs and across to the Gem Saloon. EB slinks after him. Merrick cranes
his neck curiously from his table in the hotel restaurant. Once inside the Gem, Hickok goes to the
bar.)

Wild Bill: Whiskey.


(Dan brings a shot. Johnny having been standing at the bar, steals slowly away. EB and
Merrick walk in. Then, in Al’s office, we see Al & Leon.)
Al: And how’d they take to the craps game?
Leon: Like chimps at their first fire. (Knocking is heard. Johnny comes in.)
Johnny: Downstairs.
(Downstairs)
EB: Thank you, Dan. (After being poured a drink)
Al: (Having come down quietly, and pouring his own drink) I’m Al Swearengen, Mr. Hickok.
In the last few days I’ve been locked in my room weeping, searchin’ my memories, as to
where my path might’ve crossed yours previous. And as to how I might’ve given
offense, that you stay in this camp not fifty feet from my joint and never once walk in.
Wild Bill: No poker.
Al: Is it that simple? Dan, dismantle the titty corner and set up a poker table.
Wild Bill: Not necessary, Mr. Swearengen.
Al: I always felt poker slows a joint’s action. Been a liquor, pussy, and faro man my entire
fucking career. But certain people are due respect.
Wild Bill: This man Garret who fell off the rocks.
Al: The eastern dude.
Wild Bill: His widow’s had an offer on his claim from that innkeeper sitting in the corner.
But she’s reluctant to sell. ‘Til she understands what’s behind it.
Al: Why have you ask me?
Wild Bill: She believes you’d know.
Al: Her husband came here with childish ideas. Bought himself a gold claim with me an
honest broker. Claim pinches out, which will happen. But he can’t take that like a man,
has to blame somebody. Seller’s left camp, so he picks on me. Says he’ll bring in the
Pinkertons if I don’t offer restitution. I got a healthy operation and I didn’t build it
brooding on the right, and wrong of things. I do not need the Pinkertons descending like
locusts. So I bend over for the tenderfoot cocksucker. Reconnoiter your claim fully, I
say. And then, if you’re still unhappy I will give you your fucking money back. And the
tenderfoot agrees. Just as he’s finishing his reconnoiter, cocksucker falls to his death,
pure fucking accident. But up jumps the widow in righteous fucking indignation. Wants
the doctor to examine him for murder wounds. My visions of locusts return. I see
Pinkertons coming in swarms.
Wild Bill: Commissioned by the widow.
Al: Who I recognize is grieving. And has better intentions probably than her hold on the
truth.
Wild Bill: How’s the inn keep come to make the offer?
Al: Under bidder on the sale I brokered. Still believes in the claim.
Wild Bill: Even though the gold is pinched out?
Al: Well, this camps expanding. We’ve already had one hotel close. He sees the property as
real estate.
Wild Bill: I’ll take this back to the widow.
Al: I only hope you show it to her in a favorable, fucking light.
Wild Bill: What’s that worth to ya?
Al: What?
Wild Bill: The light I show it in. What’s it worth to you?
Al: Why Wild Bill.
Merrick: (Sitting in the corner at the table with EB) They certainly don’t appear to be at
odds.

---
(Back to Jane and Alma)

Jane: What happened to this little one was the same exact cocksucker. (Alma doesn’t quite take
her point) Um, seems he was the one pulling the strings in your husband’s fleecing and
gettin’ him killed. This Swearengen operated the road agents that done for this little
one’s people.
Alma: Oh, poor child. To lose her family, to see them slaughtered.
Jane: Very same cocksucker.
(Knocking is heard)
Wild Bill: It’s Bill. (Comes in) You stole off on me.
Jane: I had to come in here to look after the little one and I thought she might want me present.
Alma: Yes, I, I’m very grateful.
Jane: Didn’t happen to put one right between the shithead’s eyes now did ya, Bill?
Wild Bill: Unless you need the money right away, Mrs. Garret, I’d defer a decision until
someone honest and, competent did a second reconnoiter.
Alma: May I commission you?
Wild Bill: Some question my fitness on, either count but, I’ll guarantee ya I’m not
competent. I do know someone I trust to ask.
Alma: Please do.
Wild Bill: Name’s Bullock. I’ll go talk to him now.
Jane: How’d ya leave it with the cocksucker, Bill?
Wild Bill: On terms he’d understand.

---
(Al and EB at the Gem)

EB: Al, watchin’ you, even at a distance, was a pleasure and privilege.
Al: If she don’t come back to you with an answer inside an hour, you pay a call on her.
EB: But Hickok’s an ally, right? I mean if that wasn’t a damn ally leavin’, my eyes
completely deceived me.
Al: An hour, EB.
EB: Yes, Sir.
(Ellsworth comes into the saloon, goes to the bar)
Ellsworth: Pour me a drink. And ask me the key to a long life.
Dan: What is it?
Ellsworth: Most important human quality for a person to reach old age.
Dan: I’ll buy the drink if you tell me.
Ellsworth: Same as a dog keeps his nose. Don’t poke it where it don’t belong.
Dan: Wise words.
Ellsworth: A lesson hard come by, but thoroughly learned. Somethin’ else I know. My
knowin’ what I know, and somebody else knowin’ it, is two entirely different things.
Dan: I’m near losin’ your trail, Ellsworth.
Ellsworth: Say somebody thought I saw somethin’ I shouldn’t have.
Dan: Whereabouts?
Ellsworth: On a ridge. A man, pushed off or whatever the hell else. If it meant my leavin’
camp to prove I could mind my own business, it’d be a friend who told me that. ‘Stead
of throwin’ me to the pigs, is my whole philosophy and outlook. Make use of it as you
will.

---
(Al and Tom Nuttall)
Nuttall: W-Well, well if he, if he was here sealin’ a appearance arrangement then I’m glad
it was you that tied him up, Al, and not that new fuckin’ operation. W-What with them
fancy signs and cleaned up women, w-where I heard he was gamblin’ all night.
Al: We made no appearance agreement.
Nuttall: Well, uh…you and, you and Hickok--
Al: No.
Nuttall: Oh, I see. Well, I mean because his game at my place yesterday was this far from
comin’ to lead. Him and this droop-eyed hooplehead. And I had to shut it down. I mean
if that gives him offense or umbrage, well, I mean I can’t worry about his plans, or as far
as where he decides to gamble elsewhere, or this new joint overwhelms the camp.
Al: We made no agreement. (At this point Al has already started walk back upstairs)
Nuttall: W-whata you think of the new joint?
Al: Nice sign.
Nuttall: (To himself) This far from fuckin’ gunplay.

---
(At Nuttall’s #10 Saloon, Jack McCall is at the table with Stapleton and another card player)

Jack: Jack fuckin’ high! That’s what I have. I bet every fuckin’ cent.
Stapleton: Miracle to me is you, sit here braggin’ about it.
Jack: I ain’t braggin’, or braggart, or blowhard. I state a fact. I live by a fact—
Card Player: Anyways, it’s over.
Jack: Yeah, you believe that because you’re a walkin’ fuckin’ cunt. With your cunt, your eye,
movin’.
Card Player: No matter how your day’s goin’, Jack, you’re always fun to talk to.
Jack: Gimme a buck then, Lou. You send me off for a meal. Gimme a buck. See which part
of you gets shot. Because that—I possess a fuckin’ gun that I didn’t bet.
Stapleton: I’ll pay ya five dollars for that gun sight unseen. ‘Cause what you need Jack is a
stake to make your comeback. That’ll getcha out of this, brown study you’re in.
Jack: What’d you take off of me?
Stapleton: Tag, from your new suit.
Jack: Alright, then.
Stapleton: Name a price. If it’s close to fair I’ll pay it.
Jack: For the suit?
Stapleton: For your gun.
Jack: No, I believe not. I believe no. (leaves hastily)
Card Player: He too is God’s handiwork.
(Tom Nuttall enters)
Nuttall: Oh, double fuckin’ solitaire. Where’s your fuckin’ ball gowns? Bring a bunch of
chips over here and lets get a poker game goin’!(laughs)

---
(Seth, Hickok and Sol at the hardware store site)

Seth: I don’t know this camp. I’d have to bring someone from Montana.
Sol: Would the widow give it that much time?
Wild Bill: Yeah, she would. She don’t wanna be stupid or fool. Wants to stand up for her
husband better’n he stood up for himself. Not that she ought ta stick around.
Seth: Far as that goes, she could sign a proxy.

(Jack McCall has walked by and is standing in the distance watching Hickok.)

Wild Bill: There’s her hundred in it, and what that saloonkeeper gave me, if you’d wanna
take it on.
Seth: Alright.
Wild Bill: I guess she’s alright. ‘Til that saloonkeep decides I can’t be trusted to betray her
interests.
Sol: Trust ain’t his long suit. She ought ta be lookin’ for a wagon (Climbs ladder).
Wild Bill: Thanks for the favor, Montana.
Seth: Sure.

---
(Dan and Trixie at a table in the Gem)

Dan: I like Ellsworth, too.


Trixie:There’s a difference between talkin’ a lot, which Ellsworth does enjoy, and oversteppin’
it.
Dan: He don’t get in other people’s business.
Trixie:Then what are we talkin’ about, Dan?
Dan: Well, my own standards as to who’s reliable ain’t the same as Al’s.
Trixie:So Ellsworth has to leave camp over the difference?
Dan: Yeah, he does if it’s that or kill him. He said tell him if those was the choices.
Trixie:Don’t you do it.
Dan: Which?
Trixie:Either.

(The view pans up and then cuts to Al and EB standing near the walkway handrail upstairs.)

Al: Asks a bribe for somethin’ he never intends to do, takes my hundred and fifty, then tells
her not to sell.
EB: Why are you so sure he told her not to, Al?
Al: You went back there. You knocked on her door.
EB: She said Hickok reported to her his conversation with you. But she wasn’t prepared yet
to give me an answer.
Al: Does this make sense to you, huh? She pays Hickok to come talk to me. He goes back
tells her to sell. And then she says she needs more time to make up her mind. HMMM!!
That idiot couldn’t put one in his ear.
EB: If you’re talkin’ about Tom Mason, I’d say that’s water under the bridge.
Al: And I’d say Hickok has to die if I have to kill him myself.
EB: Jesus, Al. Jesus. With all that’s goin’ on? I mean how would it sit with the widow, for
one thing? How would that dispose her toward us?
Al: Let me pose you a question, EB, you fucking cunt! Someone comes at ya, what’re you
supposed to do about it?!
EB: And I’ll pose you a question back, Al Swearengen! If a friend or at least a professional
colleague has a mistaken impression of who’s comin’ at him, and who isn’t , what’re ya
supposed to do then?! Huh?!
Al: You don’t think he’s comin’ at me?
EB: I don’t think Hickok’s comin’ at ya, Al. No I don’t. I think you’re a man with so many
different responsibilities, you sometimes get feelin’ beset. And in that frame of mind,
take things personal.
Al: I’d sooner the cocksucker was dead. Simplify workin’ the widow.
EB: We don’t get to choose the world we live in.
Al: Bella Union cocksuckers to worry about and every other damn thing…
EB: You got a full plate.
Al: (Rocking slowly back and forth against the handrail) I need to fuck somethin’. (EB
contemplates the floor. Al calls down to the common area floor) Trixie! Hey, hey, hey!
Get the bottle.
EB: That’s usin’ your old noggin, Al. Getcha self some relief. Let the world do it’s own
spinnin’.
(Trixie, down at the bar, motions to Dan quickly and discreetly, towards Ellsworth)
Dan: Don’t be pointin’ your fuckin’ thumb for me, Trixie. Me and you done talked that
subject out.
Ellsworth: (calls out) What’s new, Dan?
Dan: Nothin’.
Ellsworth: No news at all?
Dan: If I had somethin’ to tell you, Ellsworth, one way or another, I’d tell it to ya.
Ellsworth: Well, then I reckon I’ll have another drink.

---
(At the Bella Union, Andy Cramed is in bed with the shivers. A knock is heard at the door.)
Andy: Who is it?
Joanie: It’s Joanie.
Andy: Wait a second, honey. Give me just a second. (After trying to get himself together in the
mirror, opens door) I fell asleep.
Joanie: I broke up three cat fights, Andy. Girls wantin’ to give you a bath.
Andy: I fell right the hell to sleep.
Joanie: You ready to meet some strange?
Andy: Tell you the truth Joanie, I’m—feelin’ out of sorts.
Joanie: Well, you had a long trip. And I’ve heard worst confessions
Andy: That’s the gospel truth, which I hope you’ll keep to yourself.
Joanie: Yeah, sure I will, Andy.
Andy: I feel fuckin’ unwell to myself.
Joanie: Why don’t you lie back and let me get your boots off?
Andy: I don’t think you should touch me, honey. That’s the gospel on that score.
Joanie: No girl in the world ever got sick pullin’ off a pair of boots, Andy. But if you
want, I won’t take more liberties.
(Downstairs, Cy, Eddie, and Merrick are talking)
Cy: Fifty dollars an issue.
Merrick: Well! Ah, frankly, Sir, that, that would purchase your advertisement an amount
of space wildly incommensurate with the accompanying articles.
Cy: See, I never heard that word in my life!
Eddie: That’s his trade, Cy. He’s a wordsmith.
Cy: Ha! Do you shoot craps, Mr. Merrick?
Merrick: Excuse me? Oh, oh, oh…no, ah, no. I haven’t shot the craps in some time.
Eddie: Perhaps never?
Merrick: If you’ll keep my secret, Sir. No, I’ve never shot them. Um, maybe that would
make an article, ah, “Man Learns to Shoot the Craps.” (At this point Cy notices Joanie
coming down)
Cy: Well, we’re agreed on fifty an issue.
Merrick: Have we actually agreed, ah. I feel almost duty-bound to remonstrate you, Sir--
Cy: Three months in advance, Eddie. Fifty an issue.
Eddie: Let’s see the man with the cash.
Merrick: Seriously?
Cy: Don’t let him take your money, Mr. Merrick, while he’s teaching you this game.(To
Joanie) Who did you give to Andy?
Joanie: Nobody, he’s poorly.
Cy: Does he need a doctor?
Joanie: Maybe he does.
Cy: Goddammit! I told you I didn’t like the way he looked! (To one of his guys) Stand
outside room eight. Nobody in or out. (To another) Get the Doc. Tell him, someone fell.
(To Joanie, angrily) I told you.

---
(Alma Garret and Hickok sitting in Alma’s room)

Alma: Thank you, for your help. I’ll look forward to Mr. Bullock contacting me.
Wild Bill: May I ask, ma’am, when you’d expect to leave the camp?
Alma: I’m not certain.
Wild Bill: Bullock is honorable, Mrs. Garret. You can trust him to see to your interests.
Alma: He couldn’t come more highly recommended.
Wild Bill: You know the sound of thunder, don’t you, Mrs. Garret?
Alma: Of-of course.
Wild Bill: Can you imagine that sound if I asked you to?
Alma: I can, Mr. Hickok.
Wild Bill: Your husband and me had this talk. And I told him to head home to avoid a dark
result. But I didn’t say it in thunder. Ma’am. Listen, to the thunder. (Gets up slowly to
leave) Very good luck to ya.
Alma: Thank you, for all your help, Mr. Hickok.

---
(Doc Cochran enters the Bella Union)

Cy: Thanks for comin’, Doc.


Doc: The boy said someone fell.
Cy: Room eight.

---
(Hickok’s room. He is seated at a table writing a letter, when someone knocks)

Jane: It’s Jane, Bill.


Wild Bill: Come ahead.
Jane: Feel this little one’s forehead.
Wild Bill: Fever and you parted ways, young lady.
Sophia: (Speaking in her native tongue)
Wild Bill: Did she just ask to borrow money?
Jane: (Laughing) Anyways, How’d it, How’d it go with Bullock?
Wild Bill: He’ll help the widow.
Jane: Good for him. Good for you. Did ya tell her so?
Wild Bill: Umm. (Nods yes as he tickles the child in Jane’s arms)
Jane: Do ya think she’d want company?
Wild Bill: I bet she’d enjoy yours.
Jane: Maybe she’d enjoy, feelin’ the little one’s forehead. (Laughs) You’re probably enjoying
your damn privacy with, Charlie headed for Cheyenne.
Wild Bill: I’m writing my wife.
Jane: Why didn’t you say somethin’, damn you? Owe you a penny.
Wild Bill: So long, Bill.

---
(Al’s bedroom at the Gem. Al is grunting and hammering Trixie, in his dirty, sagging longjohns)
---
(Then, Andy’s room at the Bella Union. The Doc is there.)

Doc: Alright, breathe big breaths.


Andy: (Gasping) Oh, my back! Oh, my aching back…
Doc: I’m on—I’m gonna get you somethin’ to ease that.
Cy: What’s he got, Doc?
Doc: I guess. It’s his back is what he landed on when he fell.
Andy: My back is split and broken.
Cy: I don’t know what he landed on. Wait, who said he fell?
Doc: Course, if little pussy sores rise up on his trunk and his face, more likely he’s got other
trouble.
Andy: (Deliriously) Oh, give me a game, how I ache.
Joanie: Okay, Andy.
Doc: I’m on give ya somethin’ to ease that.
Andy: You lost your friend in a fire?

---
(A busy thoroughfare in Deadwood, Hickok sets out walking)
---
(On the Chinese alley, Jack McCall is seated and eating.)

Jack: Hey! Hey, Winkie. Hey, wait a minute. Does that look American to you? (Holds up
what looks like a chicken foot) Naw, this ain’t…People don’t eat this shit! (Drops a
piece of food) It touched… (Pulls the corner of his eye, mocking the passing Chinaman)
Meow, meow.

---
(Nuttall’s #10 Saloon. Someone chuckles)

Poker Guy: Aw, hell.


(Hickok enters, pays for poker chips, and takes a seat)
Wild Bill: Boys.
Card Players: Howdy, Bill.

---
(Alma, Jane, and the child in Alma’s room)

Alma: My father was the best company, from the time I was ever so little. Problems or,
difficulties or even sadness, no such thing. Not permitted. The evening I was presented
to society I—I found out later, he’d been able to attend only by physically fleeing some
dismal legal difficulty. In that sense my marriage to Mr. Garret was a tremendous
solution. Tremendous. At the ceremony I remember father whispered to me, “Darling, I
can never repay you for what you are about to do, but…I can repay every on else.” And
he said, “To think of you with him, in that God forsaken place! It’s almost unbearable.”
Jane: Meaning, your husband.
Alma: And I said, “Maybe he’ll die.”

---
(Again, we see Al with more grunting as he finishes with Trixie and drinks from the bottle.)
---
(Seth and Sol are again shown, making good progress adding the wooden siding to the store)
---
(Back to Nuttall’s #10. Jack McCall walks in and shoots an unsuspecting Hickok in the back of
the head.)

Jack: Take that, damn you! (Brandishes his weapon and flees)

---
(The others pursue and catch him. We see Bullock walking out. He seems to sense something
about the gathering commotion. Up in Alma’s room, Jane and Alma’s faces are profiled side by
side as they have begun to look out the window. Jane begins to back away slowly with an
apprehensive look on her face as she heads down to the street. At the Gem, Al has risen from his
bedside and is watching as McCall is jostled about in the crowd. EB observes from the
doorsteps of the hotel. Jane is now out on the street and comes upon Stapleton.)
Jane: What happened?
Stapleton: He shot Wild Bill Hickok.

---
(In the streets, a rider who appears to be Mexican comes through town waving the severed head
of an Indian. People stand around transfixed by what they are seeing).
---
(Bullock walks through the door of the #10 Saloon. He goes over to the fallen Hickok, and drops
to his knees. Jane arrives and is obviously devastated. She takes a hard drink from the bottle.
Tears well up in Bullock’s eyes.)

(Credits roll to the song “Fallen from Grace” by Mark Lee Scott)

Credited cast:
Timothy Olyphant Seth Bullock
Ian McShane Al Swearengen
Molly Parker Alma Garret
Jim Beaver Ellsworth
Brad Dourif Doc Cochran
John Hawkes Sol Star
Paula Malcomson Trixie
Leon Rippy Tom Nuttall
William Sanderson Eustis Baily (E.B.) Farnum
Robin Weigert Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown Dan Dority
Dayton Callie Charlie Utter
Guest appearances
Powers Boothe Cy Tolliver
Sean Bridgers Johnny Burns
Keith Carradine Wild Bill Hickok
Larry Cedar Leon
Kim Dickens Joanie Stubbs
Garret Dillahunt Jack McCall
Zach Grenier Andy Cramed
Peter Jason Stapleton
Ricky Jay Eddie Sawyer
Jeffrey Jones A.W. Merrick
Timothy Omundson Brom Garret
Tom Simmons
Nicolas Surovy Captain
Bree Seanna Wall Metz Girl
Gareth Williams

Publicity images & episode content © 2004 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved. HBO and
Deadwood are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2004 Cristi H. Brockway.
The copyright claimed by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her personal contribution of
material not contained in the episode from which this transcript was compiled. Any commercial
use of this transcript is expressly prohibited.
Episode #5
“The Trial of Jack McCall”
(We see Wild Bill’s corpse laid out, flies are landing on his face, as those paying their
respect pass by, they shoo the flies away.)

Shyster: Tuft of a recently decapitated Indian…25 cents. Authentic heathen hair tufts.
Head brought to camp same day as Wild Bill Hickok was killed. 25 cents a tuft.
Or five tufts for a dollar. 25 cents a tuft! 25 cents a tuft! Don’t miss your chance
at a fine souvenir, boys, authentic heathen hair tufts. Send them east to friends
and family. And if you was to say in your letter with the tufts inside it it was you,
who cut the cocksuckers head off who’d be there to gainsay?

(We see a line in the opposite direction of the respects line, Seth and Sol are there
watching…)

Merrick: Anyone, may join the juror’s line. Only those admitted to the bar, may join
the line of candidates for officers of the court. Jurors will be drawn from the hat
on my right. Officers of the court in the box, on my left. I have no say in either
outcome. So please don’t try to bribe me.

(Cy and Al are watching from the balcony of the Gem outside Al’s office…)

Cy: That newspaper fella seems a good sort.


Al: He’s alright.
Cy: How far into the process you think he’ll stay involved?
Al: ‘Til them shysters take over.

(Looks up and sees Alma in her room, pacing, looking out the window occasionally)

Alma: I don’t know what’s become of the woman who was Hickok’s friend.
Doc: Probably, drunk over his murder.
Alma: Yes, well there’s a child to be considered.
Doc: And she couldn’t be doin’ better.
Alma: Despite her situation.
Doc: I don’t see your medicine.
Alma: No, I broke the bottle.
Doc: Alright. (Bends down to his satchel to get a full bottle)
Alma: No!
Doc: I don’t know if this is the time for you to stop takin’ this laudanum, Mrs. Garrett.
Alma: Oh, what a pleasant surprise, doctor. To hear you admit the limits of your
knowledge.
Doc: Have you made any travel plans?
Alma: (Shakes her head “no”) Before his murder, Mr. Hickok arranged with a Mr.
Bullock to look after my affairs here.
Doc: That’s good, that’ll…that’ll free you up to leave. (Alma looks over and meets
Sophia’s eyes)
---
(Outside, back at the trial line…)

Shyster: 25 cents, 25 cents a tuft! Hair from the heathen dead less than one day. (Seth
looks over at the shyster – seething) 25 cents, 25 cents a tuft!
Man in Line: These are good boots you people sold me.
Seth: (Walking away towards the shyster) Glad you’re satisfied.
Shyster: Hair from a heathen dead less than one day!
Seth: Cut that shit out!
Shyster: No law against me selling these, mister.
Seth: No law either against me breakin’ your fuckin’ jaw, you don’t quit it! (Grabs the
stick with the hair, breaks it over his knee and throws it in a fire)
Seth: (To Tom Nuttall) Put him out here like a goddamned circus freak!
Nuttall: Whoa, I’m not makin’ a penny from this, Mr. Bullock. People just wanted to
pay their respects. Well, I-I-I had him around the side, but ah, they…they
knocked the damn tent over. (Seth walks away)
Cy: (Looking down from the balcony still) Man has a powerful temper.
Al: Them hardware cocksuckers been an ongoing pain in my balls, since him and his
partner showed up.
Cy: Where do you suppose that heathen’s head go to them tufts of hair came off of
Al?
Al: Yeah, I don’t know.
Cy: Didn’t some Mexican bring the head in for bounty?
Al: If it’s important to ya, I’ll look it up in my yesterday’s diary. (Al walks inside)
Cy: Couldn’t matter less. (Follows Al inside)
Al: As the trial itself, I got no problem acting as host. Loss of revenue’s not
withstanding. (Al opens the door for Cy to leave his office)
Cy: Well, I’m happy to have it at my joint, but bein’ you’re senior in the community,
it seems somehow out of place.
Al: Anyways, we’ll have it here. (They leave the office and start to head downstairs)
But just let me say this once, in your hearing. For outright stupidity, the whole
fuckin’ trial concept goes shoulder to shoulder with that cocksucker Custer’s
thinkin’ when he headed for that ridge.
Cy: It’s got it’s disadvantages.
Al: We’re illegal. Our whole goal is to get annexed to the united fuckin’ states. We
start holdin’ trials, what’s to keep the United States fuckin’ Congress from sayin’,
“Oh, excuse us, we didn’t realize you were a fuckin’ sovereign community and
nation out there. Where’s your cocksucker’s flag? Where’s your fuckin’ navy or
the like? Maybe when we make our treaty with the Sioux we should treat you
people like renegade fuckin’ Indians. Deny your fuckin’ gold and property
claims. And hand everything over instead to our ne’er-do-well cousins and
brother’s in law.”
Cy: That we don’t want.
Al: But, if we’re gonna have the fuckin’ thing, might as well have it in my joint, huh?
(They continue walking, the camera pans to outside)
Merrick: Tom Smith, of Lead. Juror number seven!
Al: How’s business?
Cy: Hot and cold. Strugglin’ to get our craps concept off the ground.
Al: That’s the way with any new idea. Takes the hoople heads time to adjust.
Merrick: Samuel Smith.
Al: Sometimes I wish we could just hit ‘em over the head, rob ‘em and throw their
bodies in the creek.
Cy: But that would be wrong.
Merrick: Jay Johnson, Spearfish. Juror number ten.

(Doc is coming down the street, he seems to be in a hurry. He spots Seth and approaches
him)

Doc: Mr. Bullock?


Seth: Doc?
Doc: I just seen Mrs. Garrett.
Seth: I’ve got a proxy for her to sign.
Doc: You oughta go ahead and get that done so she can go ahead and leave town.
Seth: Anything else on your schedule I’m behind on?
Doc: No, sir.
Merrick: I will now draw from the lawyers business cards in the box. The presiding
magistrate, prosecutor and counsel for the defense.
Al: (Loudly) After that part’s over, for not pre-judging the evidence…why don’t we
try the cocksucker at my place? (Sophia is watching from her window)
Cy: Second.
Merrick: Officers of the court, Magistrate…(This is said off camera as the camera pans
down from Sophia to the hotel lobby)
EB: There’s a cripple who’d do. If I could pry her from Mr. Swearengen.
Alma: How much money would loosen his grip?
EB: More likely Al’d bridle at breakin’ his routine. He likes to berate the gimp
mornin’s.
Alma: I cannot see to the child. She needs someone less distracted.
EB: I wish to see you extricated from all these…complications and difficulties, Mrs.
Garrett, as much as you do yourself.
Alma: (Laughing) Oh, Thank you, Mr. Farnum. (She sees Seth entering the hotel)
EB: And in that regard, wonder if you’d decided on my bid for your claim yet?
Alma: (Turning to walk to Seth) Are you Mr. Bullock?
Seth: (Takes off his hat) Yes.
Alma: I’m Alma Garrett.
Seth: How do you do?
EB: Please, excuse me. I’m spread so thin with my cook out.
Seth: I got this for you to sign. (EB, watching as he grabs some plates)
Alma: Have you a pen at the desk, Mr. Farnum?
EB: Certainly. (Drops bacon into a pan)
Alma: Several days ago I…watched you, and Wild Bill Hickok, support each other in a
gun fight from the window in my room. Later, when Mr. Hickok…spoke so
highly, ah, Mr. Bullock, I…I imagined it was you. (EB turns the writing desk
around for Alma and hands her a pen. She dips it in the inkwell and begins to
sign the proxy) Mr. Bullock has authority to act in my behalf on all matters
relating to the claim.
EB: I see.
Alma: In case you couldn’t, I thought I’d tell you.
EB: Wonderful. One load off your back. Let me see about getting you that, cripple.
(Seth takes the proxy letter from Alma and puts it in his coat pocket. EB goes
outside and pauses on the porch, he’s stricken with the news.)
---
(Joanie comes down the stairs of the Bella Union sees Cy and approaches him…)

Cy: Is he dead or alive?


Joanie: He’s sick.
Cy: And we ain’t no hospital! (To Bart) Number eight’s relocatin’. Bundle him up,
put some of Leon’s remedy down him and take him to the hills.
Bart: Can someone else do it, Mr. Tolliver?
Cy: Sure the can. Shall I get someone else to take him?
Bart: No, I-I’ll do it.
Cy: And burn the blanket afterwards. Thanks, Bart. (Bart leaves, Joanie steps in
front of Cy)
Joanie: Some do get well, Cy.
Cy: His chances’ll improve outdoors. The bracing air. (Joanie stalks off)
---
(Back at the Gem…)

Al: What are you movin’ the tables for?


Dan: You said you wanted the jury right here.
Al: Can’t they sit at separate tables?
Dan: Do you want the tables together, or not?
Al: I don’t want anything done, that can’t be undone, five minutes after this fiasco
concludes. (To Jewel as he comes downstairs) Clean somewhere where I can’t see
ya. (To the whores) Go on, get fuckin’!
EB: Have patience with the widow, Al. She’s give her proxy to that hardware fella.
Al: Oh, Hickok breaks my balls from the afterlife.
EB: You fell, before he was murdered, Hickok enlisted Bullock in the widow’s cause?
Al: Advance the subject or pick up a broom.
EB: Signing a proxy don’t mean the widow can’t do a deal. It just includes Bullock
in.
Al: If the widow trusts her own judgments, she don’t let Hickok bring the hardware
cocksuckers into it.
EB: She’s tryin’ to get off the dope. Maybe loaded, she’d get her self-confidence
back.
Al: Oh, let me camp beneath her window and suggest that.
EB: Hickok’s half woman friend’s off somewhere’s on a tear. The orphan square
head’s in the widow’s care. The widow feels put upon. She’s asked me to find
her some help. I suggested the gimp.
Al: No!
EB: So as not to put a whore up first off. Now I will propose Trixie.
Al: As a get acquainted gift, she could bring the widow a good-sized ball a dope.
EB: Yes.
Al: Well thought through, E.B. (Johnny covers the deer head with a sheet) Tell the
widow you have a candidate.
EB: I have to go look to my roast. My cook’s on the queue to see Hickok’s remains.
(Johnny hangs the picture of Abe Lincoln up and covers it with a sheet as well)
Then he’ll probably sneak here for the trial. (As Johnny comes down the ladder
he causes a bottle of whiskey to crash down to the floor. Al stops dead in his
tracks and looks down from above) Oops. (EB, seeing Al mad, tip toes as fast as
he can out of the Gem)
---
(Seth is walking down the street to the store…)

Seth: Reverend.
Rev: Hello, sir. Sir, who stands for Mr. Hickok?
Seth: What do you mean?
Rev: Mr. Utter has gone to Cheyenne. And I don’t find Mr. Hickok’s woman friend.
Mr. Nuttall commissioned the coffin, but wishes not to participate further. Now I
need guidance in certain matters. But I don’t know who stands for him.
Seth: What are you tryin’ to find out?
Rev: For example, I thought “How Firm a Foundation.”
Sol: For the hymn.
Seth: Sounds a good choice.
Rev: Do you think so?
Seth: Yes, I do.
Rev: Might something else be more appropriate?
Seth: I don’t know, Reverend.
Rev: I think “H-How Firm a Foundation” for the hymn and from the gospel, first
Corinthians 12.
Seth: Alright. (Sol, this whole time, is watching as Seth gets more and more frustrated
with the Reverend’s questions)
Rev: If the foot shall say because I am not the hand, I’m not of the body, is it therefore
not of the body? And if, the ear shall say because I’m not the eye, I’m not of the
body, is it therefore not? Now hath God, set the members, every one of them, in
the body as it hath pleased him.
Seth: (Firmly) That is a good choice Reverend.
Rev: (Smiling) 12 and 13, I think. (Leaves)
Sol: Are we open for business?

(Seth stalks off, ooh! Pighouse walk! With slo-motion effects! Seth is holding back tears
in his eyes. The pigs are squealing, Mr. Wu glares at Seth as he enters the meat locker.)
Jack: I know you.
Seth: I know you, too.
Jack: I guess after bumrushin’ me outta your fine, fuckin’ hardware establishment, you
didn’t see this comin’, did you?
Seth: I halfway did, you droop eyed cocksucker!
Jack: I was born droop eyed, alright?
Seth: And who do you blame for the rest of the fuckin’ mess?
Jack: Let me ask you this, cocksucker? You think they know me in New York City by
now? (Seth grabs him by the throat) Ah!
Seth: If you wasn’t tied up, I’d kill ya!
Jack: Ow, what you cryin’ for?
Seth: What?
Jack: I’m askin’ what you’re cryin’ for? Did you love Hickok so much? Was your
sweetheart? Did he stick his dick up your ass? Ah, ah!
Counsel: (Entering) Hey, Hey! I’m this man’s counsel.
Seth: (Stops choking Jack – seems surprised at the depth of his anger, turns around to
leave) I’ll pin a rose on you. (Seth leaves, Mr. Wu watches him)
Jack: Why I shake ya hand. I’m all trussed up like a Christmas pig.
Counsel: I’d say you’re better situated than your companions.
Jack: Well, I’m a hard case for you, counselor. And no mistake, everyone in there saw
me shoot him.
Counsel: If you’ll let me set our strategy, I don’t think we’ll dispute what people saw.
Jack: Now, I guess you’re here to break me out.
Counsel: (chuckling) Son, did James Butler Hickok, ever kill a relative of yours?
Jack: James Butler Hickok?
Counsel: Wild Bill Hickok. Did he ever kill a brother of yours or, or the like?
Jack: A brother? (The light seems to turn on in his vacant head)
Counsel: I’m asking you, if what happened in that saloon, was vengeance, for the death
of a family member? Possibly a brother in Abilene. Or the like.
Jack: A brother in Abilene. (Counsel smiles, pats Jack on the knee and leaves)
---
(Bart is dragging Andy on a sled into the hills…)

Andy: Oh Christ.

(Bart dismounts, dumps the sled over tossing Andy onto the forest floor – he’s covered in
sores)

Andy: Oh, Jesus.


Bart: You alright? (Andy gasps) Look, I’m sorry as hell about all this. Sorry as hell.
I’m not gonna burn the fuckin’ blanket. Fuck Cy! Look, this is not my fuckin’
fault. (Takes his gloves off and drops them on the ground next to Andy) It’s not
my fault.
Andy: Ah, Christ. (Bart leaves) Ah, God take me!
---
(Al enters the whores room and finds Trixie looking out the window, smoking a cigarette)
Al: What do you look at out there?
Trixie:Whatever I can see.
Al: Clean up.
Trixie:Am I on jury duty?
Al: Put on a decent enough dress to help a widow with a kid.
Trixie:What widow in camp, has a kid?
Al: The widow is the New York dude’s widow. The kid is the orphan square head.
Trixie:I didn’t know she was carin’ for that child now.
Al: Does it change what fuckin’ dress you wear?
Trixie:No.
Al: Widow’s a dope fiend. She’s been drinkin’ it. (Hands Trixie a ball of dope) Help
her expand her horizons.
---
(At the Bella Union, Doc enters, looks upstairs, gets a concerned look on his face and
approaches Cy at the cashier’s booth)

Doc: I see no guard outside of room eight.


Cy: Yeah, room eight left.
Doc: Born by angels?
Cy: You don’t have that man to worry about anymore, Doc. You or me either,
just…put the man in room eight from your mind.
Doc: Sir, I have no vaccine. For the sickness the man in room eight didn’t have. The
closest place that does, to my knowledge, is Fort Kearney. If you want a remedy,
the epidemic that you have no reason to believe will break out; I would send
somebody there right away.
Cy: Heard ya loud and clear, doctor.
Doc: Will ya send someone, Mr. Tolliver?
Cy: If I do, you’ll be the first to know.
Doc: (Hits the mesh of the cashier’s booth – hard) If you don’t, and I have to, that will
be known to every damn person in this camp! (Grabs his satchel and leaves)
Cy: (Looks over and sees Joey doing a shot) Joey? (Joey looks over and Cy motions
with his head for him to come over) You ever had Nebraska pussy?
Joey: Ah, not to my knowledge, Mr. Tolliver.
Cy: Eddie Sawyer, get in here! (Puts a hand on Joey’s shoulder as Eddie
approaches) True or not, Eddie, when a man wets his end in Nebraska pussy, his
life is changes forever.
Eddie: Speaking only for myself, I still mark the anniversary.
Joey: Well, point me in the right direction.
Cy: You hear that, Eddie?
Eddie: Boy’s got a healthy attitude.
Cy: (Chucking)
----
(Knocking, Johnny pokes his head into Al’s office)

Johnny: Yes, sir.


Al: Come here. (Holds out the Indian head wrapped in burlap – Johnny takes it) Get
this outta here.
Johnny: Get rid of it?
Al: Did you hear me announce the other night that I’d pay a $50 bounty for every
fuckin’ Indian head?
Johnny: I was right next to ya, Al.
Al: That’s the first head. Some chili chomper’s out there somewhere spendin’ my 50.
You get rid of that head, or you’d better know of another place with a position
open for an idiot.
Johnny: Alright. Got a couple places I can keep it, I guess.
Al: Yeah, ‘til after the trial.
Johnny: Well, what do ya do with it then? Put it somewhere in the bar? It’s a nice
conversation piece. I mean if it’s handled the right way.
---
(EB is in one of the hotel rooms, squatting down, scrubbing at a bloodstain…)

EB: You have been tested, Al Swearengen. And your deepest purposes proved,
there’s gold on the woman’s claim. You might as well have shouted it from the
rooftops. That’s why I’m jumpin’ through hoops to get it back. Thorough as I
fleeced the fool she married, I will fleece his widow, too. Using loyal associates
like, Eustace Bailey Farnum as my go-betweens and dupes. To explain, why I
want her bought out I’ll make a pretext of my fear of the Pinkertons. I’ll throw
Farnum a token thief, why should I reward E.B., with some small fractional,
participation in the claim? Or let him even lay by a little security and source of
continuing income, for his declining years. What’s he ever done for me? Except
let me, terrify him every goddamned day of his life ‘til the idea of bowel
regularity, is a full on fuckin’ hope. (Pours water on the stain) Not to mention
orderin’ a man killed in one of E.B.’s rooms. So every fuckin’ free moment of his
life E.B. has to spend scrubbin’ the bloodstains off the goddamned floor! To keep
from…havin’ to lower his rates. Goddamned that motherfucker!
---
(Back at the Gem, the trial is starting, men are chattering, the Magistrate bangs his
gavel)

Magistrate Clagett: Rules of the court. No nonsense. Prosecution will open. The
defense will respond. The jury will be charged and deliberate. (Looks at the
prosecutor) Go ahead.
Prosecutor: We shoulder a great weight here today. Now we’re many of us miners, but
this is no claim dispute.
Al: (Looking down from above) Christmas.
Dan: Hmm?
Al: We’ll be here ‘til fuckin’ Christmas!

(The jury turns around and looks up at Al, Dan holds his hand out like – “carry on”)
Prosecutor: Yesterday, a man of reputation was killed in this camp. Now, the killer,
had no reputation. But the circumstances speak badly enough about his character
that, in time to come he may get one. Now, we all know that, even though the
killer is a coward, not all killings are murders. You jurors have to decide if this
killing was. And your decision, will come to this. Either a man giving you a
dollar for breakfast is provocation beyond endurance, or Jack McCall, shooting
Wild Bill Hickok, was murder, pure and simple.
Al: Picked up his pace towards the end.
Magistrate Clagett: (Looks at the Defense counsel) Go ahead.
Defense: Thank you, sir. Why’d you kill Hickok, Mr. McCall?
Jack: He murdered my brother in Kansas.
Defense: Murdered your brother in Kansas. (Jack nods his head) Thank you, son.
Dan: Hmm? (Like – “see? That’s something!”)
Al: Don’t count your fuckin’ chickens.
Magistrate Clagett: Go ahead.
Prosecutor: When did Hickok murder your brother, Mr. McCall?
Jack: In Kansas, Abilene.
Prosecutor: Are you still drunk? I said when?
Jack: Ah, I-I don’t recall the exact year. When they was both in Abilene.
Prosecutor: And you were present?
Jack: Not at shooting, no.
Prosecutor: But you were in Abilene at the time that this happened?
Jack: No, when the shooting happened, no.
Al: Tell that judge I was to see him. (Dan goes downstairs)
Prosecutor: Were you ever in Abilene?
Jack: Yes.
Prosecutor: Well do you often play cards, McCall, for three days with a man who
murdered your brother, before, in passion’s white heat, you take your revenge?
Jack: No, it wasn’t white heat. (Dan whispers in the Magistrate’s ear) I had to find my
chance.
Magistrate Clagett: If that’s it, I’m callin’ a break for nature and we’ll finish later.
Prosecutor: Do you even have a brother, Mr. McCall?
Jack: Yeah. And Hickok killed him.
Magistrate Clagett: Break for nature. (The room starts chattering, the Magistrate
Starts heading for the stairs)
Card Player Shot in the Arm: Sir? Sir? Bullet that killed Mr. Hickok is in my wrist.
Any chance I could testify?
Magistrate Clagett: McCall already admitted he killed Hickok.
Card guy: Well, years to come when I’m givin’ talks or the like, I just, I’d just
appreciate it if I’d be on the record. (Magistrate Clagett heads upstairs) Sir,
there’s $50 in it for ya. I’d be tellin’ the truth, sir!
---
Trixie: (Knocking on Alma’s door) Mrs. Garrett?
Alma: (To Sophia) It’s okay. (knocking – Alma heads to the door) Who is it?
Trixie:I’m sent to help you with the little one. (Alma opens the door & Trixie steps
inside) I’m Trixie.
Alma: Thank you for coming at such short notice, Trixie. (Motions to Sophia)
Trixie:Oh, ain’t you pretty? (kneels down) I’m sorry about your husband, ma’am. It’s
good of you to care for the child. (Picks up Sophia) Oh…
Alma: I was under the impression you were, hurt.
Trixie:Ma’am?
Alma: Mr. Farnum, said you had some, sort of, physical liability?
Trixie:I’m not here. Oh, she’s lovely though, a jewel. May I wash her? Give her a nice
bath?
Alma: Of course.
Trixie:Alright, little one. (Puts Sophia down and pushes up her own sleeves)
Alma: She doesn’t speak English.
Trixie:(Nods her head) I’m Trixie (Pats her chest) Trixie.
---
(Back at the Gem, in Al’s office, the Magistrate is seated across from him, Al is getting
out the whiskey from his drawer and setting up a couple drinks)

Al: You want a blowjob while I talk to you?


Magistrate Clagett: No.
Al: I wasn’t offerin’ it personally. (Pours the drinks)
Magistrate Clagett: Make your point.
Al: My point is…before a guilty verdict would get executed on that cocksucker, three
men, would walk in that meat locker where he’s bein’ held with bags over their
heads and cut his fuckin’ throat. And within half an hour that celestial’s little pigs
will be, on their backs, with their hooves in the air, belching up human remains.
Magistrate Clagett: Are you saying you’d order that to be done?
Al: I’m sayin’, I had a vision, it’d happen. My second of the day. First come when I
was watchin’ you and them lawyers on line this morning. They began to slither in
my sight like vipers. So as not to puke I had to close my eyes. The vision went
on. Got worse. I saw the vipers in the big nest in Washington. They were takin’
us in the camp, for actin’ like we could set out own laws up or organizations and
then saw the big viper decide to strangle and swallow us up every fuckin’ thing
we gain here. It was horrible. How could we fuckin’ avoid it? How could we let
the vipers in the big nest know that, we didn’t wanna cause any fuckin’ trouble?
Magistrate Clagett: And that’s when you had your second vision.
Al: Yeah, the cut throats and the pigs. But who wants all that blood spilled, judge,
huh? Isn’t there a simpler way of not pissing off the big vipers?
Magistrate Clagett: (Does his shot) I want to get back to the trial.
Al: Go ahead. (We hear the door open & close, Al finishes his drink)
---
(Back at the hardware store…)

Sol: How do you ‘spose the trial’s goin’?


Seth: I don’t know.
Sol: Should’ve took him into the territory. Hang ‘em here they’ll be openin’ a can of
worms. (The Reverend approaches) Guess it’s all a can a worms.
Seth: Now you’re talkin’?
Rev: Will you help me with the body? (Seth looks up at him – quizzically)
---
(Back at the trial – men are chattering among themselves…)

Dan: Good talk?


Al: We’ll see.
Dan: Mmm. You see that one? (Pointing down) Him, that one there in the middle?
Al: The curly hair?
Dan: Yeah, yeah. Told me the other night how bad Hickok needed killin’. (Al raises
his eyebrows) Yeah. Said Hickok insulted him in the street.
Al: Hope he’s got a forceful personality.
Magistrate Clagett: (Sitting down) We’re back in session. This camp is part of no
territory, state or nation. Stars and stripes may fly here soon, but that day is not
here yet. You of the jury therefore are without the law upon which to decide this
case. (Al gives a thumbs up) And how then are you to decide it? You must rely
on common custom. That McCall killed Hickok is not in dispute. He says he was
takin’ revenge that Hickok murdered his brother. If you believe what he says to
be true, custom dictates, that you excuse him. The jury will now retire to the
whore’s rooms, and begin their deliberations. (We see Ellsworth below, he winks
at Dan)
Al: You suppose Ellsworth’s with us?
Dan: Oh yeah, four square. (Jury gets up, the men all disperse)
Al: Open the bar. Get the girls fucking. When the jury comes back.
Dan: Mmm, the downstairs rooms is occupied.
Al: Upstairs ain’t.
Dan: True. (Dan takes off)
---
(Back in the hills…)

Andy: Oh, strike me dead. (Calamity Jane appears) I apologize. Please, I hurt so much
now.
Jane: (Approaches Andy) You’re one sick fuckin’ customer.
Andy: I apologize.
Jane: Don’t apologize to me. I don’t even fuckin’ know ya! You want a drink a
whiskey? And no lip in the bottle but I got a pretty steady pourin’ hand.
Andy: I apologize.
Jane: Accepted, open your yap! Hey! Open up! More for me anyhow.
Andy: I apologize.
Jane: Hey. My best friend died. The man I had my best friend feelin’ about in the
world. Took as he found you, thought the best a you. Sweet to me!
Andy: I apologize.
Jane: Maybe you’d rather have some water? I’ll go get some from the creek. But if
you don’t stop ‘pologizin’, I’m not gonna give ya a goddamn drop. Alright,
Mister? I’m comin’ back with some water.
Andy: I apologize.
Jane: Shut the fuck up!
---
(Back in Alma’s room, Trixie is braiding Sophia’s hair…)

Trixie:Look how pretty you are. Pretty girl. (Alma looks out the window, she’s
clutching her stomach) Are you poorly? Crampy?
Alma: Yes.
Trixie:Does laudanum help?
Alma: It used to. It doesn’t anymore.
Trixie:Are you afraid?
Alma: Yes.
Trixie:I was awful afraid when I was stoppin’. First I was afraid I was gonna die. And
then I was afraid I wouldn’t. And then one day I woke up…free. (Alma looks out
the window again, then back)
Alma: I don’t know why I didn’t think to put her in one of my camisoles.
Trixie:No, but you look how pretty she looks in it. Look at her. (Alma smiles)
---
(Back at the Bella Union…)

Eddie: May I confide?


Cy: Certainly.
Eddie: I’ve never been laid in Nebraska.
Cy: We all of us sometimes embellish.
Eddie: I feel unburdened.
Cy: Happy to help.
Eddie: What did you send him to get?
Cy: If I haven’t said yet, Eddie, you think askin’s gonna make me? (Joanie comes
down the stairs – all dressed up, wearing that awesome hat with the trailing
scarf) Look at the Lady.
Joanie: It’s quiet, I thought I’d see Hickok buried.
Cy: Sure.
Joanie: Sure, what?
Cy: Sure, Joanie, go ahead. Or was your point you weren’t askin’ permission?
(Joanie glares at Cy, turns & leaves) Conscience struck. Needs to sing a hymn.
Eddie: She liked Andy.
Cy: I did, too. (Eddie nods, turns and goes back into the office)
---
(Seth and Sol are lowering Bill’s corpse into the coffin. Tom Nuttall places Bill’s hat and
rifle in with him. They place the lid on the coffin and lift it into the wagon. Nuttall starts
to nail the coffin shut.)
---
(Trixie is knocking on the Doc’s cabin door…)

Trixie:Doc?
Doc: I’m in my back.
Trixie:Well, I won’t trouble nothin’? (Doc stops what he is doing and gets up) Hi, Doc.
Doc: What is it?
Trixie:Couple years ago I took, powders, gettin’ some awful crampin’. I wish I knew
what was in ‘em.
Doc: Well, that’d be helpful.
Trixie:Brownish like (Trixie looks over to where the Doc was working, he sidesteps to
block her view) I put ‘em in my tea.
Doc: Well, if it’s the monthly’s, I generally prescribe a day or two of laudanum against
the cramps.
Trixie:Comin’ off the laudanum’s what had me crampy.
Doc: Then you used it for more than a few days.
Trixie:Little longer, yeah. (Doc sits, Trixie joins him) ‘Tween 12 and…however old I
was three years ago.
Doc: Have you taken ‘em back up again?
Trixie:It’s the rich woman wants to stop. The widow.
Doc: And what’s that to you?
Trixie:Or to you, why I’d be interested?
Doc: I won’t swear, (gets up and begins to pick dried herbs) this is your sovereign
remedy. But, the color will be right. And it should give her some relief. (Sits
down and begins to make his concoction)
Trixie:Thanks, doc.
Doc: Why that’s a little enough to do with what’s comin’.
Trixie:What would that be?
Doc: And what would that be to you?
---
(Back at the Gem, one of the jury members is “deliberating” with the help of a whore.
She’s laughing. Dan knocks and pokes his head in…)

Dan: Finish your business. The jury’s comin’ back. Hurry it up!

(In the bar area, the jury and clerks of the court are being seated. The Magistrate enters
and they all rise. When he sits, all but Jack McCall sits back down…)

Magistrate Clagett: What’s the verdict?


Curly: Innocent. (Jack breathes relief, everyone starts chattering, Merrick hurries off)
Magistrate Clagett: Thank you. The defendant is free.
Al: (To Dan) Don’t ever knock this camp to me.

(The whores all smile and wave at Jack, he blows them a kiss)

Defense: Good luck, son. (Shakes Jack’s hand)


---
(At the cemetery, they are burying Wild Bill…)

Rev: Mr. Hickok will lie beside two brothers. One he likely killed, the other he killed
for certain and he’s been killed now in turn. So much blood. And on the
battlefields of the brother’s war, I saw more blood than this. And asked then,
after the purpose, and did not know. But know now to testify that, not knowing, I
believe. Saint Paul tells us, (Merrick approaches, sneezing) by one spirit, are we
all baptized in the one body. Whether we be Jew or gentile, bond or free. And
they’ve all been made to drink into one spirit. For the body is not one men, but
many. He tells us, the eye cannot say unto the hand, I have no need of thee. Nor
again, the head to the feet, I have no need of thee. They much more those
members of the body which we think of as less honorable, all are necessary. He-
he says that, there should be no schism in the body, but that the members should
have the same care, one to another. And whether one member suffer, all the
members suffer with it. I believe in God’s purpose. Not knowing it. I ask him,
moving in me, to allow me to see his will. I ask him, moving in others, to allow
them to see it. (Stops, clutches his bible) Let us sing, “How Firm A Foundation”
as Mr. Hickok is laid to rest.

(Jane is looking on from the above the cemetery, the guitar player starts to play and
sing…the rest join in after he starts the first word of every line…)

Singers: ♪When though fiery trials♪


♪They pathways shall lie♪
♪My grace all sufficient♪
♪Shall be thy supply♪
♪The flame shall not hurt thee♪
♪Only design…♪
Merrick: (To Seth) They turned him loose.
Seth: McCall?
Merrick: They turned him loose.
Singers: ♪And thy gold to refine…♪

(Seth & Sol grab shovels and begin to cover the casket. Merrick, sneezing, turns to leave,
Joanie hikes up her skirt and leaves, the Reverend has his eyes shut in pure bliss, face
upturned to the sky, Jane is watching, crying…)

----
(Joanie arrives back at the Bella Union, she heads straight upstairs, Cy watching her…)
---
(The reverend is kneeling now, face still turned to the sky…)

Seth: Can we get started?


Sol: He’s purty near done.
Seth: Oh, you can tell? Can you believe they let the sonofabitch go?
Sol: Yeah, I guess I can. Here he comes.
Rev: Oh, thank you for waiting.
Seth: Mmm-hmm.
Rev: You’ve been so kind to me, a stranger. Many of us have asked being broken, how
are we to live? Well, you took me into the body of the camp. “I’m from
Etobicoke, Ontario.” “I’m from Vienna, Austria.” I-may, may I ask, Mr. Bullock,
what you feel now may be your part…
Seth: I can’t say I know what you’re talkin’ about, Reverend.
Rev: I would not impose; it’s been given me to ask.
Seth: Okay, then. You did what you’ve been given to do.
Sol: The camp was lucky you were here today, Reverend.
Rev: No, I’m a frail and feeble vessel but, none of us can deny our parts—
Seth: (Stops) Can we finish the goddamned walk in quiet?
Rev: Certainly, sir.
Sol: (Quietly as they turn to continue their walk) Sorry, Reverend.
---
(Merrick enters the Gem, loud now with celebration and chatter. He goes to the bar,
takes off his hat and does a shot. Jack is signing an autograph for Curly)

Jack: There you go, that’s for you.


Merrick: (Loudly- so everyone can hear) Should it ever be your misfortune, Gentlemen,
or mine, to need to kill a man, then let us toast together, the possibility that our
trials, be held in this camp. (Holds his glass up to Jack)
Al: Hey, what’s your name? It’s Jack, ain’t it?
Jack: Yes, sir. You buy me a drink? I’ll make my mark.
Al: Stick around camp, Jack. I’ll make mine for you.
Jack: What in the hell’s that supposed to mean?
Al: Mean’s there’s a horse for you outside you want to get on before somebody
murders you who gives a fuck about right and wrong. Or I do. It’s the paint,
Jack. (Pointing) Right outside my joint. (whispering) Run for your fuckin’ life.
Jack: Jack McCall runs from no man. (Leaves – quickly)
Al: (To Dan) Remember this when you run your own place. That type guy hangin’
round gets people agitated. Forces ‘em to take a position, one side or the other.
And agitation, brings a slight bump up in whiskey sales but the sale of cunt,
plummets. (Looks at the whores, idling nearby) That’s why I often wonder if I
should take that fuckin’ picture of Lincoln down. (Looks up at Abe)
---
(Outside, Jack finds the horse and mounts it)

Jack: Come on. Come on. (The horse begins to run, Seth and Sol are up ahead of
him..) Yah, yah. (They see Jack galloping by, their jaws dropped)
---
(Back in the hills, Jane returns to Andy…)

Jane: It’s me, mister! Back with water. (Looks at Andy – motionless, eyes open) Are
you dead?! (Bends down and pours water in his mouth – Andy spits it out) Ah!
There you are. Chokin’ and coughin’ just like the rest of us. Ah. (Sits down)
Saw the widow’s husband in the creek. ‘Less they’re keepin’ more than one body
cool for shippin’ back east. Tied there, to wrapped up and floating like a lure for
some huge fuckin’ fish. The widow’s got the little one now. I had her for a while
but, I ain’t the type she should be with long-term. Fuckin’ drunk and so forth.
And when I was down at the creek, I heard voices, and I went to where they were
singin’, and I saw as they laid my poor fuckin’ Bill to rest…(Jane starts crying
for a moment, she stops herself, blinks hard…) Now there’s a bird I ain’t never
seen before. Shall I talk about it to you?
---
(The Reverend returns to his tent, as he enters he starts to shake, he sits, tries to open his
bible and starts to convulse, he falls to the ground, people passing by his tent. No one
notices that he’s having a seizure…)
---
(Back at the hardware store…)

Seth: The man is a lunatic. High water, he never made much sense, but now, he just
utters pure gibberish. (Taking off his coat, preparing to work on the building)
Sol: Did he look pale to you?
Seth: What?
Sol: Did he seem pale?
Seth: How the fuck do I know if he was pale or not?
Sol: He looked pale to me.
Seth: What if he was? Let’s say he was. Will you shut up about it? What is part and
your part? What part of my part is your part? Is my foot your knee? What about
your ear? What the fuck is that?
Sol: Yeah…I don’t know.
Seth: What don’t you know? If he was pale or not?
Sol: What your supposed to do.
Seth: (drops his hammer) I’m not supposed to do anything! Let’s agree to that. Not
one fuckin’ thing that I don’t decide I’m gonna. Alright, Sol? (Puts on his vest,
starts to put on his jacket)
Sol: Alright. (Seth starts to put on his jacket) Suspenders.
Seth: (Looks down) Goddamnit! (Throws jacket to the ground and puts on his
suspenders) If I kill the droop eyed sonofabitch, and my part’s gettin’ hanged for
it, good luck with the fuckin’ store.
Sol: Alright.
Seth: I’ll write to Martha and see it posted. You look out after that widow.
Sol: Alright, Seth.
Seth: Can I impose on ya to pack a bag for me to cut down on the cocksucker’s head
start?
Sol: Be ready for ya when you ride out.
Seth: Thanks, Sol. (Walks off – Sol watches him leave, looking at him like “WTF?”)
---
(Joanie is bathing the whores upstairs. Cy opens the door…)

Cy: Did you get the prayin’ outta your system?

(Keeping eye contact with Cy, Joanie grabs the nearest whore by the neck, turns the
whore’s face to hers and gives her a big ole French wet kiss. Cy leaves, she stops
immediately, upset.)
---
(Jane is wetting a clothe to put on Andy…dabbing his lips…)
Jane: (To the tune of “How Firm a Foundation”) ♪Mmm mmm dooo doo dadoo da doo
da doo do do dooo, do, do dodo do doo, eh dah, da da♪
---
(Trixie is back with Alma’s powders, she fixes her a cup of tea and hands it to a grateful
Alma. Trixie sits down with Sophia and they start to – try – and play patty-cake)
---
(Sol is outside the store, hears Seth’s horse neigh and approach, he hooks Seth’s bag to
the saddle. They shake hands, almost before they stop shaking, Seth takes off…)

Seth: Ya!

Timothy Olyphant Seth Bullock


Ian McShane Al Swearengen
Molly Parker Alma Garret
Jim Beaver Ellsworth
Brad Dourif Doc Cochran
John Hawkes Sol Star
Paula Malcomson Trixie
Leon Rippy Tom Nuttall
William Sanderson Eustis Baily (E.B.) Farnum
Robin Weigert Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown Dan Dority
Dayton Callie Charlie Utter
Guest Appearances:
Marshall Bell Magistrate Claggett
Dirk Blocker
Sean Bridgers Johnny Burns
Brent Briscoe
Candice Cook Gem Whore (uncredited)
Kim Dickens Joanie Stubbs
Garret Dillahunt Jack McCall
Gill Gayle
Zach Grenier Andy Cramed
Ricky Jay Eddie Sawyer
Geri Jewell Jewel
Jeffrey Jones A.W. Merrick
David Ligon
Ray McKinnon Reverend H.W. Smith (as Raymond
McKinnon)
Glenn Morshower
Toni Oswald
Nicolas Surovy Captain
Bree Seanna Wall Metz Girl
Everette Wallin
Clay Wilcox Loudmouth Drunk in the Gem Saloon
Keone Young Mr. Wu

Publicity images & episode content © 2004 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved.
HBO and Deadwood are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2004
Cristi H. Brockway. The copyright claimed by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her
personal contribution of material not contained in the episode from which this transcript
was compiled. Any commercial use of this transcript is expressly prohibited.
Episode # 6 – “Plague”

(In the hills, the wind is blowing, all is peaceful…we see the platform with a deceased
Indian and his horse atop of it. Bullock is riding is horse in pursuit of Jack McCall. All
of a sudden his horse is struck with an arrow and bucks. The horse falls, with Seth still
astride.)

Seth: Oh! (Groaning, breathing hard – he is hurt. Seth sees his attacker, an Indian
approaches rapidly on horseback. Seth is clubbed on the head.) Ah!
Indian: (Phonically) Washi sha shitsay. (Spits in Seth’s face)
Seth: Uh!
Indian: Washi sha shitsay. Shi sha shitsay. Shin sa sitsay.

(Bullock grabs onto the indian’s leg. The Indian beats him off. Bullock grabs at him
again and this time manages to stand and push the Indian into a tree. The Indian grabs
Seth by the neck he tries to push him off, Seth lands a punch and they fall to the ground.
Seth grabs a rock and beats the Indian’s head in, grunting, with effort through the entire
beating. The Indian is dead. Bullock starts to walk away but falls and passes out.)

----
(At the Gem, A.W. Merrick is at the bar, drinking…)

Merrick: May I say, Dan, ever since I resumed drinking alcohol, I cannot for the life of
me figure out why I ever gave it up. (Dan pours him a drink)
Dan: Takes the edge off the tough ones.
Merrick: Takes the edge off. Well put. And may I say, Dan, that I often find you the
source of many well put and witty things that you say.
Dan: Thanks.
Merrick: (raises his glass) The Hickok murder, (Johnny and Doc enter) exoneration of
the coward McCall, stain on the escutcheon of the camp. (drinks) Doc, Libation!
(Doc looks at him and keeps moving.) I wonder if he thought I said, “Live
Patient”?
---
(Doc enters the back whore’s room, Al is waiting, there is a sick man in the bed,
breathing hard)

Al: Couldn’t get it up. Give her a dollar to wait.


Dolly: But he just keeps getting sicker.
Al: Shut up. Come talk to me after, Doc. (Leaves)
Sick Man: My back hurts so bad. (Continues to breathe heavily, Dolly leaves)
----
(At the Bella Union, Ellsworth is drinking at the bar. Joanie sees him and sidles up next
to him)
Joanie: Will you keep a girl company?
Ellsworth: I will, but, I’m expensive.
Joanie: (laughing) Oh, I knew that lookin’ at you. I’m Joanie.
Ellsworth: Ellsworth.
Joanie: First visit to the Bella Union, Ellsworth?
Ellsworth: Yes, Ma’am. My leisure time’s usually spent at the Gem.
Joanie: What fills the rest of your time?
Ellsworth: Well, Ma’am, I’ve got myself a workin’ gold claim.
Joanie: Well, sir, is that a damn fact?
Ellsworth: Yes, Ma’am, a hell of a workin’ gold claim. And if we knew each other
better, I’d throw a fuckin’ in there somewhere.
Joanie: If you did, I’d try to catch it.
Ellsworth: A workin’ fuckin’ gold claim, Joanie. And thank you for allowing me my
full range of expression.
Joanie: Ellsworth.
Ellsworth: What?
Joanie: Do you shoot craps?
Ellsworth: No, I don’t. But I’m a lethally quick study.
Joanie: Come on. (She takes Ellsworth by the hand and leads him to a craps
table. Cy is watching her. Joey enters. He’s stiff, holding his arm funny. Eddie
watches him pass by, Cy approaches.)
Cy: Joey?
Joey: I’m sick, boss. I ain’t right.
Cy: Keep your voice down. Walk this way with me.
Joey: I would’ve never made Nebraska. I got fever. My, my, back’s hurt somethin’
awful.
Cy: Alright, son, just lay up ‘til you get better.
Joey: (coughing into his hands, holding a piece of paper) ah, here’s that list you gave
me.
Cy: You, you hold it for a while.
Joey: Fella who could read said one of the items was for the smallpox.
Cy: What are you doin’ showin’ that list around, Joey?
Joey: Well, when I got poorly by Buffalo Gap I just wanted to see if I could fill the list
there.
Cy: That’s a breach of goddamned trust!
Joey: Have I got smallpox, Mr. Tolliver?
Cy: How do I know? Maybe you got yourself a dose.
Joey: No, I-I wouldn’t. I’m virgin. That’s how come I jumped when you told about
Nebraska pussy.
Cy: Anyway, just – just go lay up.

(Joey hobbles off to the back room, Eddie approaches Cy…)

Eddie: Joey didn’t make Nebraska?


Cy: Come down with whatever ailed Andy Cramed.
Eddie: I wonder if Joey was after a remedy for Andy? Maybe without even knowin’…
Cy: Ain’t you clever, Eddie?
Eddie: Was I bein’ clever? I thought I was worrying about the plague.
Cy: Why don’t you concentrate on runnin’ in the bones on Joanie’s mark?
Eddie: A welcome diversion.
---
(Al is looking out his interior office window at the Doc leaving the whore’s room…)

Al: Woman lives in your fuckin’ hotel. But you can’t find pretext for pressing the
offer on her claim?
EB: I can’t outflank Trixie, Al. The whore guards that widow like a mother hen.
Al: She’s dosed her with opium! Primin’ her for your approach.
EB: Be that as it may…
Al: E.B., put that offer in your pocket, you knock on the widow’s door.
EB: But Trixie’ll answer.
Al: Trixie answers. You tell her I want to talk to her. Trixie leaves, you gain entry,
broach the sale. Can you circumnavigate the child? Or must I map that for you,
too?
EB: No…
Al: What? (knocking)
EB: Nothin’.
Al: Oh, come on in, Doc, (Doc enters) him and me are finished. Anyway, don’t play
that shit where you make me drag your words outta you. Declare, or shut the fuck
up!
EB: I said, (louder) something strange is goin’ on in that hotel room. (EB leaves, Doc
shuts the door)
Doc: It’s bad with that fella downstairs, Al.
Al: Plague, is it?
Doc: Smallpox.
Al: Would land in my joint.
Doc: Yours wasn’t the first. (Al’s face turns serious)
---
(EB is leaving the Gem, talking to himself)

EB: No deceit. Too prolonged. No errand too demeaning. (Pushed past a miner) Get
outta here! No rebuke too vile. Al Swearengen’s a cue and Farnum merely
is…billiard ball. (Waves horse rider away- steps in horseshit) Shit! Quagmire of
piss and bullshit!
---
(EB is upstairs, he knocks on Alma’s door)

Trixie: What?
EB: Al wants to see you, Trixie. (Looking over her shoulder)
Trixie: Alright.
EB: He wants you over there now.
Trixie: I’ll be there when I get there, E.B.
EB: How is Mrs. Garrett anyway?
Trixie:Hunky – dory. (closes door)

(EB ponders for a moment outside the room - puts his hat back on and leaves. Inside the
room, Alma is moaning. Trixie dips a cloth in water…)

Trixie: My boss wants me. I’ll be back quick as I can. (Hands Alma the wet rag) This
passes.
Alma: Alright.
---
(Back at the Bella Union…)

Eddie: Place your bets, gentlemen. Place your bets. New shooter, coming out!
(Ellsworth tosses the dice) The winner’s seven.

(Doc and Al walk in, they head straight for Cy in the cashier’s booth)

Al: What you hear on that vaccine?

(Cy looks at the Doc accusingly)

Doc: He’s had a case break out at his place.


Cy: Let’s go to the cage, or shall the three of us leap up on tables and shout questions
to one another across the room?
Al: What about the vaccine?
Cy: The boy never made Nebraska. He took sick.
Doc: Where is he now?
Cy: In the back, here.
Al: How the fuck long has that been?
Cy: You don’t want to pursue that tone.
Al: You sat on news, and no one went after the meds and I’m askin’ the duration.
Cy: And I’m sayin’ questions in that tone and pointin’ your finger at me’ll get you
told to fuck yourself.
Doc: Show me the room where the boy is.
Cy: (To Al) Please, join us.

(Cheering, Ellsworth is winning at craps)

Ellsworth: How long they been playin’ this without me?

(Joanie looks of to see Cy letting Al & Doc into the back room – the smile leaves her
face.)

---
(Back at the hotel, EB has arrived with fresh linens, he lets himself into Alma’s room and
sees Sophia sitting on the bed next to Alma – clearly not feeling well)

Alma: What do you want?


EB: It’s laundry day Madam. I’ve come to replace the linen.
Alma: Leave it and go.
EB: (leaning in for a closer look) Are you ill?
Alma: Leave the room.
EB: Of course. (He leaves and locks the door behind him)
---
(In Joey’s sick room, he is sweaty and shaking. Doc leans over him and puts his head to
Joey’s chest.)

Doc: Breathe. (Listens for a moment, turns to Al & Cy and nods)


Al: We should chat this all out.
Cy: Sure.
Al: Why don’t we do something together? Us and several other?
Cy: Yeah, alright.
Doc: (To Joey) Lift up. There we go. (Feeds Joey a spoonful of medicine) Alright, lie
down.
---
(Calamity Jane is walking the streets. She looks hard at a man walking the street as he
passes her…)

Jane: If I had that mug on me, I believe I’d cut down gettin’ told how butt fuckin’ ugly I
was by not starin’ at fuckin’ strangers. (Stops in front of Doc’s cabin) Sorry
lookin’ cabin even in this shithole camp. Passers through has a right to make
inquiries? A lead taker has it. (Frowns, breathing heavy as she approaches
Doc’s cabin) I carried that fuckin’ child! No, not in my belly but, none of that
fuckin’ blood…fuckin’ cocksucker! (Shakes the door handle in anger – the door
opens, surprising her) It’s Jane Canary callin’ for Doc fuckin’ Cochran! You
fuckin’ in there? I believe I’ll fuckin’ wait! (Enters the cabin)
---

(Al strides back into the Gem…)

Dan: Trixie’s upstairs. E.B.’s waitin’ for you in the kitchen.


Al: (To A.W. Merrick – still at the bar drinking) Quit drinkin’ a few hours. We’re
havin’ a get together.
Merrick: Whom do you mean?
Al: (To Johnny) Buy some fuckin’ fruit or the like, huh? (Stalks off to the kitchen)
EB: I told you somethin’ strange was goin’ on.
Al: Are you prepared now, to tell me what it is?
EB: If that widow was high, I am a monkey’s uncle.
---
Johnny: How much fruit? I mean, how many’s a fuckin’ get together?
Dan: Now one thing I can tell you, Johnny, (Al runs upstairs) right now ain’t a good
time to ask.
---

(Up in Al’s office, Trixie is waiting, Al enters…)

Trixie:Hi, Al.
Al: You toss the place?
Trixie:I know what’s in this room.
Al: How’s the widow? You givin’ her that dope?
Trixie:I give it to her regular.
Al: And she takes it?
Trixie:She goes behind where she dresses to spare the child seein’.
Al: Oh, when she goes behind where she dresses to spare the child do you see billows
of fuckin’ dope smoke rising?
Trixie:She says she eats it.
Al: Does she act high to you?
Trixie:I can’t be sure. I never seen a rich person high before. (Al smiles)
Al: Next piece of dope, Trixie…you go behind the screen with the widow. You
watch her put it in her mouth, you watch her swallow. Afterwards, you look
down her fuckin’ yap and you verify she’s got nothin’ above or below her fuckin’
tongue.
Trixie:I’ll find a good reason.
Al: You bein’ fuckin’ clever with me?
Trixie:How am I supposed to do that, Al, and not arouse her suspicion?
Al: Only suspicion you gotta worry about is mine. Of if you’re givin’ it to her at all.
(Drops the dope in her hand)
Trixie:Why wouldn’t I?
Al: I’d rather try touching the moon than take on a whore’s thinking. Only know this,
Trixie. That widow better be muddleheaded next time Farnum sees her or you
pay.
Trixie:Can I go back?
Al: Please. (Trixie leaves)

(As Trixie leaves the Gem, she fixes her eyes on E.B., standing at the bar, and leaves. Al
comes downstairs shortly after her.)

Al: Trixie and me chatted on the subject of the widow takin’ dope. (Motions to Dan
for a drink)
EB: I see.
Al: Trixie’s gonna make sure she does.
EB: Good.
Al: You find pretext to determine Trixie ain’t lying.
EB: Oh… (Dolly gasps and runs off to the back room) Damsel in distress. And will
you want me back here, for the get together?
Al: How the fuck could we go it without you, E.B.?
EB: Truth isn’t in you, Al.
Al: Makes two of us. (EB leaves)
Dan: Dolly’s with that drummer? ‘Fraid he gave her plague.
Al: Fuckin’ plague!
---

(Trixie lets herself back into Alma’s room, Sophia is sitting on the bed, singing)

Sophia: ♪ Row, row, row your boat, gently down the “steem” ♪
Trixie: ♪ Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream. ♪
Sophia: ♪Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily life is but a dream. ♪
Trixie:It’s lovely.
Alma: (Whispering) Very lovely.
Trixie: I need you to do something for me. And I know you can. When Farnum’s here,
so we can buy you time to get well you have to fake bein’ high.
Sophia: ♪Row, row, row your boat gently down the “steem”…♪
Trixie: You can do it, Alma. Look at all the practice you’ve had.
Sophia: ♪…merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream. ♪
---

(Al enters the back room, Dolly is scrunched up on the bed, her head resting on her
knees, she’s crying)

Al: You better have a payin’ dwarf underneath you.


Dolly: Am I dying?
Al: Turn off the fuckin’ water, and tell me what you did. I know you didn’t fuck him.
Dolly: No…
Al: You suck his prick?
Dolly: He didn’t want to show it to me ‘til he had a hard on.
Al: That’s what you call a mistake of youth. You mug it up with him?
Dolly: A little.
Al: French lock or normal?
Dolly: Normal.
Al: So any hoople head who drank from the same glass this guy did, have as much
right to sit there weepin’ as you, except I can’t kick his ass and send him out to
work.
Dolly: My mom died of it when we was coming out. And that’s when daddy gave us up.
Al: Well, that sad story makes me believe maybe you was exposed and ain’t a
candidate for it no more. (Dolly stops crying – sorta – and looks at Al) Stick to
hand jobs a day or two if you like.
---

(Trixie comes down the hotel stairs with a bag full of dirty linens…)

Trixie:Ah, these sheets need cleanin’.


EB: I just provided new linens.
Trixie:And now they got sick on ‘em.
EB: Take those to the Chinaman. Show you want a clean exchange. Say, “for Mr.
Farnum, Wu. Sheet for Farnum.”

(Trixie leaves and EB promptly heads upstairs, as Trixie makes her way to Mr. Wu, Sol
spots her…)

Sol: Hello.
Trixie: Hello, Mr. Star.
Sol: May I help with those sheets?
Trixie:I got it.
Sol: How is Mrs. Garrett?
Trixie:Still not receivin’.
Sol: You do tell her I’ve asked to call.
Trixie:On commission for Mr. Bullock? How’s business at your store?
Sol: Brisk.
Trixie:Oh. (Trixie turns and heads down Chinaman’s Alley, leaving a smiling,
dumbstruck Sol, behind)
---

(Doc arrives back at his cabin. Calamity Jane is sleeping in a chair next to the door –
waiting, she wakes up when he enters. Doc doesn’t notice her right away until he puts
down his satchel and looks over – he’s momentarily stunned)

Doc: Jesus Christ!


Jane: You just shit yourself!
Doc: I take it you’ve been, out on a…a hoot.
Jane: I’ve been drunk awhile, correct. What the fuck is that to you?
Doc: Question was well meant like, if you was…a farmer I’d ask ya, how the farming
was going.
Jane: I did lose my fuckin’ best friend, you know?
Doc: I know.
Jane: Anyways, I ain’t here to teach ya any fuckin’ manners. I was wonderin’ about the
child.
Doc: She’s fine.
Jane: And what else?
Doc: And she’s stayin’ with that widow and, whore from the Gem’s with her, too.
Jane: What the fuck is a whore doin’ with her?
Doc: The widow has health problems of her own. And Trixie’s takin’ care of her.
Jane: Oh, Trixie bein’ the fuckin’ whore?
Doc: Well, you have high standards as applied to other people.
Jane: I ain’t judging anyone, I was seekin’ information!
Doc: Well, are you adequately informed?
Jane: Yes, I am, you cocksucker!
Doc: (Opens the door partway) ‘Cause I am in the midst of a situation.
Jane: Oh, smallpox?
Doc: (closes the door) What the fuck is that to you?
Jane: Fella in the woods I see to say hello to has it. Unless he caught it from a trout. I
figured, some in the camp could be down with it, too.
Doc: What was he doin’ in the woods?
Jane: Someone threw him there. Anyways, he’s better now.
Doc: And how do you feel?
Jane: What’s that supposed to mean?
Doc: How do you feel?
Jane: Why?
Doc: I take it, that you’re feeling well am I wrong?
Jane: No you’re not fuckin’ wrong!
Doc: Well, that’s all I wanted to fuckin’ know!
Jane: I will lay you out as soon as look at ya!
Doc: This is my point. You been carin’ for a sick man who doesn’t seem to have
gotten you sick.
Jane: Aren’t you wise, fuckin’ owl.
Doc: Bein’ as you have a gift for it, and I’m gonna have sick people up to my hips. I
was wonderin’ if you might wanna come back to camp?
Jane: My best friend died. (Starts to leave)
Doc: And he ain’t coming back! (Jane turns around) Now will you help me? You can
do your drinkin’ off work, like I do.
---

(Back in Alma’s room – Sophia is napping, EB enters with more linens)

EB: Madam? (Sophia’s eyes pop open)


Alma: (Sits up, slowly, with a funny smile on her face) Yes?
EB: How are you?
Alma: Better, Mr. Farnum. Thank you.
EB: I’m glad.
Alma: How are you?
EB: Very well, thank you. Excuse me. I brought more linens.
Alma: Mmm.
EB: I’d heard someone threw up.

(Alma looks at him, smiling dreamily…EB leaves, Sophia sits up, smiling at Alma for her
great acting job)
---

(Back at the Bella Union, Ellsworth is still shooting craps, but now he is loosing)

Ellsworth: Well, appears luck pinches out at this game even quicker than prospectin’.
Joanie: It can come back that quick, too.
Ellsworth: Every weekend, claim’s at the creek.
Joanie: You want to stop for a while, Ellsworth? We can stop. (Cy hears this,
looks at Joanie)
Ellsworth: Oh, what if my luck comes back? (Cy gives “the office” to Eddie) Won’t
be here to reap the benefits. (Eddie nods)
Joanie: Well, maybe it’d wait for ya.
Cy: ‘Course too, maybe it won’t, right, Joanie? Maybe you should stop for a while,
honey. You need to piss?
Joanie: Excuse me Did I say that too polite, Cy?
Cy: Go head off now. Eddie, take over the game. Push them bones my way, will ya?
Eddie: Place your bets, gentlemen. Place your bets.
Cy: Alright, let’s warm the world back up now.
Eddie: New shooter coming out. Seven, the winner. The winner is seven.
Cy: You sure you don’t want to get on me, young man?
Ellsworth: Well, I might, hazard a 20.
Cy: Alright, now. Do not detain me.
Eddie: Seven, the winner’s seven. Hot shooter!
Cy: You can’t keep an old man down! Wagon, westward down!
Eddie: It’s a seven.
Cy: You better get on me now. I got a meetin’ to go to and I got a hot hand here! Ha!
Joanie: (Upstairs) Money’s out front, honey.
Whore: Okay. Spots are coming out all over his body.
Joanie: That don’t decide how it ends.
Whore: Joey was cherry.
Joanie: I know.
Whore: He didn’t want us to do it ‘til he knew how.
Joanie: You’d do better if the tricks didn’t think lookin’ at ‘em made you cry.
---

(Charlie is leading his horses through the hills, he comes up on Seth’s dead horse and
stops…)

Charlie: Hoo, now. (Dismounts. He sees the Indian’s war horse and studies it’s
painted markings. He looks around, rifle in hand. He sees the Indian,
dead on the ground and sees Seth nearby, not looking much more alive
than the Indian)
---

(In the Reverend’s tent, he is laying down on his cot, smiling…)

Johnny: It’s Johnny Burns, Reverend.


Rev: (Stis up) Mr. Burns. How are you?
Johnny: There’s a meeting at the Gem. Mr. Swearengen thought you’d wanna
come, too.
Rev: At his saloon?
Johnny: Yes, sir.
Rev: May I ask the meeting’s purpose?
Johnny: Well, he don’t get into that with me.
Rev: Alright, Thank You. Tell Mr. Swearengen I will be there.
Johnny: He’s having me get fruit. I know that much.
Rev: Fine. (Johnny leaves and the Rev drops his head down to his chest)
---

(Back in the Hills, Charlie is tending Seth’s wounds and talking to him, Seth is still
passed out)

Charlie: The three red hands on the pony’s flank, was three men killed, hand to
hand. The red circle was one killed on horseback. The white lines on the pony’s
legs was times that he had counted coup. Hmm, with them whether they mean to
kill your man after or you’re just showin’ off you, hit ‘em with a gun butt or a
stick or a club. That’s counting coup. That’s why he come for you instead of
pickin’ you off with an arrow, like he did your horse.
Seth: Charlie.
Charlie: Ah, there you are. That was one bad hombre you got by Bullock.
Seth: Bill’s dead Charlie.
Charlie: (Pauses – dumbstruck) Of your own seein’?
Seth: Yeah.
Charlie: I heard it spoke of two days ago by this, often as he wasn’t before, I hoped
he wasn’t this time, too.
Seth: I was after the bastard who did it. (Sits up)
Charlie: Anything broke?
Seth: No.
Charlie: Can you ride?
Seth: Yeah.
Charlie: Let’s get that cocksucker. (Helps Seth up)
Seth: We should dig a grave.
Charlie: I’d as soon not waste the fuckin’ time.
Seth: It won’t take long. (Goes to the horses and grabs a shovel)
Charlie: You ain’t doin’ him no favor. I mean his way to heaven’s above ground
and lookin’ west.
Seth: Well, let’s do that, then. (Tosses the shovel aside)
Charlie: Don’t you want to take him over the ridge? This fuckin’ hole in the
ground and put him up there with his headless buddy? I mean, that’s what you
nearly got killed for? Interfering with his big fuckin’ medicine, burying his
fuckin’ buddy, over the fuckin’ ridge!
---

(Johnny is putting peaches and pears into bowls on the bar. Nuttall is watching him,
studying the cans, Merrick, Doc, Sol and EB are already there.)

EB: Trixie did her work, and then some, Al. Must’ve put a double handful of that
dope down the widow’s mouth.
Al: Did you happen to offer on her gold claim?
EB: The moment was wrong. The dope had made the widow randy. (Cy enters)
Lustful looks, heavy breathing. Out thrust chest. The full catalog.
Al: Only hope you comported yourself as a gentlemen, E.B.
EB: There was a child in the room.
Al: Peaches and pears on the fuckin’ bar. Spoon it out amongst yourselves. (They all
sit) First thing to say is, Plague’s in the fuckin’ camp.
Doc: Smallpox. Plague is spread by rats.
Al: Well, I was raised callin’ it plague but Doc wants that in reserve, in case our luck
holds, and the rats decide to descend on us, too hmm? (EB laughs) But whatever
you fuckin’ call it, the point is for no one to raise their fuckin’ dresses over their
heads. You, you, you wait it out. You outlast the cocksucker. I’ve outlasted
several fuckin’ outbreaks. Is it pretty? No, but it passes, so, we need a place for
them to get it. To care for ‘em, and to keep ‘em outta sight. So people don’t get
frightened and disgusted.
Sol: Mr. Bullock and me will have lumber left from puttin’ our buildin’ out.
Al: Why tent’s a better impression. Emphasizes it’s a passing phase. As far as the
vaccine, one place we know has it, it’s Fort Carney.
Nuttall: Well how do we know that?
Al: Off the fuckin’ issue, Tom.
Doc: Bismark. And Cheyenne, probably got it, too.
Al: So we should send to all three places. And as time’s a factor, stagecoaches ain’t
the right conveyance, so I suggest three groups of horsemen, huh? Five riders to a
group, fend off the dirt worshippers, 60 bucks a rider, 10 dollars in advance, 50 on
return.
EB: Would be, three times five times 60, $900 at the worst. Assuming they all
survive.
Al: Add in, for the vaccine and paying the Doc, I’d say $1,500 is the target. I’m in
for five. (Puts a roll of money on the table, everyone reaches in their pockets to
ante up)
Cy: Five hundred.
Nuttall: Two.
EB: Two.
Al: You fuckin’ kidding me, EB?
EB: …hundred fifty.
Sol: Fifty from Bullock and Star.
Al: You’re alright.
EB: 150 hits the target.
Merrick: I assume there’ll be some sort of public announcement in “The Pioneer.”
Al: Yeah, get ah, jump on them, fuckin’ panic mongers.
Merrick: Ah, can you give me 5 minutes, Doc, after the meeting adjourns?
Al: Yeah, give some sort of positive angle to it. Vaccine’s on it’s way or looks like
it’s the mild fuckin’ type.
Rev: It would also be useful to avoid apocalyptic predictions.
Al: Yeah, nip that Sodom and Gomorrah shit in the bud, huh?
Rev: And stigmatizing the afflicted.
Doc: Where will we locate the pest tent?
Cy: Well, I bought a lot at the end of Chink’s alley you can use.
Al: Oh, gonna build a joint in future catering to the Celestials, ain’t you, Cy? You
clever cocksucker.
Cy: They’re the fuckin’ degenerate gamblers among all the races, Al.
Sol: I’ll see to recruiting the riders. (The Rev is shaking, trying to hid it)
Al: $10 a rider advance money.
EB: If I can get your John Hancock, for the receipt of the 150.
Al: So, fruit’s up here, anybody didn’t get any, huh?
Rev: (Groans, stands up straight, throws his head back and starts to have a seizure)
Al: Oh fer chrissake.

(The Rev falls to the ground, Doc rushes over)

Doc: Alright, Reverend. Somebody get me somethin’ to hold his jaw open.
Johnny: Fruit spoon, Doc.
Al: Not with a fuckin’ metal spoon, Johnny. He’ll break every tooth in his mouth.
Here you go, Doc. (Hands him what looks like a billfold or something. Doc
sticks it in the Rev’s mouth)
Merrick: Doc, I won’t say it’s pristine, but…(Hands Doc a hanky)
Doc: Alright, Reverend. You’re doing better, Reverend.
Al: You ever see him do that?
Doc: Alright. (Sol shakes his head no)
Al: Used to have a fuckin’ brother given to that. We’d make pennies off it when it’d
come over him in the street. Hey, Reverend, you could’ve just said, “Amen.”
---

(Back at the Bella Union, Eddie is practicing shooting the dice…)

Eddie: Quite the civic figure, Cy.


Cy: That’s me, that’s what I live for. How healthy we leave that prospector?
Eddie: He’ll be back.
Cy: Fuckin’ Joanie. Got a crack out of turn. You still got an awful smooth hand,
young man.
Eddie: Yeah.
Cy: Practice makes perfect, huh?
Eddie: Yeah, Cy. And you give a good hand job yourself. (Cy laughs, the whore caring
for Joey walks through…)
Cy: Find out from Joanie how exposed that red-head got to the kid.
Eddie: Anything else you want me to ask her for ya?
Cy: Eddie, if I talk to her right now, I’ll break her fuckin’ jaw. And if we keep talkin’,
I’ll break yours, too. (Eddie continues throwing the dice)
---

(Doc and the Reverend are sitting in a back room at the Gem…)

Rev: I take it I suffered some sort of convulsion or seizure. Perhaps brought on my


irregular hours.
Doc: Oh, I see. And I ‘spect you’ll be soon hangin’ up your shingle in competition
with me?
Rev: No, oh no, no, sir.
Doc: Mmm. How did you feel before the spell come on you?
Rev: I-I noticed a peculiar smell in the air. As if something were burning.
Doc: Is this the first time?
Rev: No, the first episode occurred several days ago. After the service for Mr. Hickok.
Doc: And any others between that one and this?
Rev: (shaking his head) No.
Doc: Follow my finger. (Puts his index finger out and traces a line back and forth,
front and back in the air)
Rev: Mmm, or, or perhaps I just need glasses. (Al enters)
Al: Merrick needs to see you about the article. Prescribe this malingerer (Holds out a
can) a can of peaches, and show him the fuckin’ door. (winks, turns and leaves)
Rev: Am I clear to assist you to tend to the sick, Doctor?
Doc: You are cleared, Reverend. (Pats his arm)
---

(We see Cy enters Joanie’s room through the reflection in the mirror hanging above her
bed. She is laying down.)

Cy: What the fuck’s wrong with you?


Joanie: I don’t know.
Cy: Well, you better figure it the fuck out, Joanie. ‘Cause this free ride shit’s comin’
to a quick fuckin’ halt.
Joanie: (sits up) Free ride?
Cy: What would you call it?
Joanie: (looks away) I earn my way.
Cy: (laughs) How? Posing in expensive dresses and breakin’ up the catfights? Takin’
trouble to steer the trade? That don’t pay the freight, honey. You’re here to
create a fuckin’ atmosphere. Fuckin’ atmosphere you create lately, I’m sad. Then
on your bad days, oh, I’m so sad. (Joanie looks down) Oh…(sits down on the bed
next to her) What is it, sweetheart?
Joanie: I guess it’s comin’ here.
Cy: What’s wrong with comin’ here? You never liked the river that much. What’s
wrong with a fresh start?
Joanie: How it feels when there isn’t one.
Cy: Well, shit. Stay here I’ll bring you back a fuckin’ lollipop. (squeezes her hand)
Joanie: Sorry I cracked on your play with the prospector.
Cy: Me and Eddie turned it into a longer campaign. If he don’t get plague it’ll all
have a happy end. My worry’s you, and my concerns and, feelin’s of fuckin’
affection.
Joanie: Shut up, Cy.
Cy: Work on believin’ it, Joanie. (Touches her face) That’s the way I always want to
touch you, just like, that. Don’t make me do it different. (Cy leaves)
---
(Merrick is reading his article aloud, Al, EB, Doc & Cy are gathered ‘round)

Merrick: Two cases of the smallpox have been diagnosed in our camp by Doctor
Amos Cochran.
Al: Hey, Doc! (They all turn to see what Al’s looking at, they see Dan & Johnny
carting out the sick man from the Gem on a stretcher)
Doc: Get the Amos outta there! (Doc goes to the stretcher)
Merrick: Scratch Amos. At Dr. Cochran’s suggestions, a pest tent, endowed by the
generous retailers of our fine community, is being erected for the afflicted on the
south end, and riders dispatched to secure a vaccine.
Al: Maybe you should add there, “They’re already probably on their way back.”
Merrick: (Throws down his typesetter (?)) Excuse me (Reaches to get his quill and
ink well) The Pioneer has been assured of their imminent return.
Cy: That’s catchier.
Merrick: Thanks also to the aforementioned merchants, the vaccine will be
distributed gratis.
Al: Free gratis.
Merrick: Free gratis is a redundancy. (Al looks at A.W. blankly)
EB: Does that mean, repeats itself? (A.W. nods)
Al: Then leave gratis out.
Merrick: What luck for me, Al that you have such a keen editorial sense. Free,
distributed free. Period. It will, take me some time to reset the type.
Al: Yeah, hurry up.
Merrick: Excuse me.
Cy: Al. (Jerks his head. Al walks over to him) Thanks for not puttin’ the stink on me
before with the others. Ah, over that Fort Carney business.
Al: Sure.
Jane: (Walks across the street, stops in front of the hotel and shouts to EB) I’m back.
EB: Your room has been re-rented.
Jane: Fuck you and fuck the rooms you rent. I’m callin’ on the widow and the little one
in her care. And if I was you, or any cocksucker with ya, I wouldn’t try to stop
me.
EB: Be brief.
Jane: Be fucked! (Jane enters the hotel)
EB: Her gutter mouth, and the widow in an opium stupor. A conversation for the
ages.
---

(Jane climbs the hotel stairs, a man comes out of her old room, she pauses, turns…)

Jane: Hey, fucknut! What you got in that suitcase?


Fucknut: Millenary samples. If it concerns you at all.
Jane: Millenary samples, ain’t that just perfect!
Fucknut: Some women…take the trouble to make a decent appearance.
Jane: Well, for your information, Mr. Millenary sample suitcase cocksucker, you’re
staying in the former room of someone you ain’t fit to lick the boots of!
Fucknut: Wild Bill Hickok. I paid two dollars a day extra. Had you any connection
to Wild Bill?
Jane: (Shakes her head a little and waves him off) Good luck with your fuckin’ day
sellin’ hats. (knocks on Alma’s door.) It’s Jane! (Sophia opens the door) Oh, my
God.
Sophia: Hello, Jane.
Jane: Look at you. Listen to you, oh, my God in heaven. (Sophia opens the door and
reveals Trixie sitting in a chair behind the door)
Trixie:I’m Trixie.
Jane: I think I’ve seen you.
Trixie:At the Gem.
Jane: Yeah. Maybe that’s where. I(Jane enters, sees Alma laying in bed) You look like
shit. Oh, owe you a penny. (Jane quickly realizes where she is and yanks off her
hat)
Alma: I’m better. I was so sorry to hear about Mr. Hickok.
Jane: Yeah. (Jane puts her head down – choking back tears) You oughtta get your
husband outta that creek.
Alma: As soon as, I feel just a little better.
Jane: Anyways ah, I’m glad to see this little one in good condition and talking to boot.
Trixie: Come see her all the time.
Jane: Nah, I’m the fuckin’ drunk, ah…I might be seeing to sick people. But I’m gonna
keep…this exact recollection of your lovely mug, an put a penny aside every time
I curse. And that is my promise to you. And me too, we’ll see each other again
down the road.
---

(Merrick is rolling off a new copy of The Pioneer…)

Merrick: Gentlemen—
Al: Well, let’s see it. (Grabs the paper)
Merrick: Or should I say my fellow authors.
Jane: I’m done in there! Where would the Doc have got to?
Cy: South end of Chinamen’s Alley.

(Two men and a whore come out of the Bella Union, with Joey in a stretcher, heading for
the pest tent.)

Jane: They’ll get me there.


Al: I think maybe it should have a question mark. The Plague in Deadwood?
Merrick: The type is set. You’re reading the definitive edition.
Al: Let’s run it. (Tosses the paper back to Merrick)
Merrick: Nice workin’ with you. (Al crosses the street to the Gem, Cy returns to the
Bella Union)
---
(Doc is at the pest tent, directing Dan & Johnny)

Doc: Take him right over here. Now…it’s alright to breathe, just turn your, your head
away from him.
Johnny: (holding his breathe) Okay, Doc.
Doc: Alright. Roll him over on his side.
Rev: Yes. (Rev, Doc, Dan and Johnny roll sick man onto his side, Doc rolls up the
stretcher)
Doc: Ah, turn him back this way, that’s it. Alright, thank you, fellas.
Johnny: (still holding breathe) Bye, Doc.
Rev: It’s alright, son. It’s going to be alright.
Jane: Hey! Hey somebody! (Jane is approaching the test with the next patient)
Doc: Are you sure you’re up to this?
Rev: Oh yes, I’m right where I’m supposed to be. (The Reverend comforts the sick
man, Doc goes to meet Jane outside)
Jane: Here’s another one for ya.
Doc: So I see. You already been exposed, you wanna follow him in?
Jane: I might. (Doc does a Vanna to the entrance – Jane enters)

----

(Charlie and Seth lift the dead Indian up the funeral pyre alongside the other dead Indian
and a horse. The freshly dead Indian’s leg slips off and Charlie respectfully replaces it
up on the pyre. They leave)

---

(Back in the Gem, Al is reading the paper)

Al: The Pioneer was assured of their imminent return.


Dan: I’ll believe it when I see it.
Al: Imminent return is one of my contributions to the fuckin’ article. The idea for
that phrase. (reading) Pest tent being erected at the south…what about that
fucking Tolliver buying up property on the Q.T., huh?
Dan: When look he was strugglin’ with the shit when he made the offer to loan out the
lot.
Al: Yeah, nonetheless it says the man sees the fuckin’ possibilities of the things. I
mean, to come up at this fuckin’ juncture, with the idea of creatin’ an emporium
for the fuckin’ chinks takes brass fucking balls, and a long term vision for the
future. (does a shot) Merrick. Merrick wanted to put here, gratis. Now is the
idea, to inform your read or make him feel like a fuckin’ dunce, huh? I had him
put free.
Dan: Don’t see why the fuck he doesn’t have news of the baseball. That new league
started a team in Chicago. (Al shakes his head)
Al: Different path taken it, certain it forks in the road, who knows what kind of a joint
we’d be in now, huh? Of course, truth is, as a base of operations, you cannot beat
a fucking saloon. (drinks a shot) Ah…(Continues reading)…

Cast
Timothy Olyphant Seth Bullock
Ian McShane Al Swearengen
Molly Parker Alma Garret
Jim Beaver Ellsworth
Brad Dourif Doc Cochran
John Hawkes Sol Star
Paula Malcomson Trixie
Leon Rippy Tom Nuttall
William Sanderson Eustis Baily (E.B.) Farnum
Robin Weigert Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown Dan Dority
Dayton Callie Charlie Utter
Parisse Boothe Tessie
Sean Bridgers Johnny Burns
Candice Cook Gem Whore (uncredited)
Kim Dickens Joanie Stubbs
Ricky Jay Eddie Sawyer
Jeffrey Jones A.W. Merrick
Juddson Keith Linn Milliner
Ray McKinnon Reverend H.W. Smith (as Raymond
McKinnon)
Toni Oswald
Bree Seanna Wall Metz Girl (as Breeseanna Wall)
Everette Wallin
Gareth Williams

Publicity images & episode content © 2004 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved.
HBO and Deadwood are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2004
Cristi H. Brockway. The copyright claimed by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her
personal contribution of material not contained in the episode from which this transcript
was compiled. Any commercial use of this transcript is expressly prohibited.
Episode #7 Bullock Returns to the Camp
(OPEN on the backs of Bullock and Utter riding into a settlement. Seth spots McCall’s horse.)

Seth: That’s what McCall was ridin’


Utter: All right.

(Pan down a cabin to a couple of cowboys just settin’.)

Utter: (ever polite) Evenin’.


Cowboy 1: (laconic) Evenin’ back
Seth: Lookit that paint, Charlie.
Utter: I seen it.
Seth: I had a half-breed (?) just like that.
Utter: Found ‘er. Makes me miserable just reminiscing on it.
Seth: Do you know the owner?
Utter: If he’d sell the horse is what he really wants to know.
Cow: Well I don’t know if he’d sell, but the fuckin’ jerk’s in that bunkhouse

(Charlie looks at Seth, who glances over to the bunkhouse, looks back at the cowboy.)

Seth: Thank you.


Utter: Evenin’.

(The two walk into the bunkhouse to the sound of chatter. Seth glances around, finally spots
Jack McCall slumped over a table.)

Seth: Jack McCall.

(McCall raises his head.)

Jack: (slurs) I’m done. I’n’twannaplaynomore.

(McCall puts his head back down on the table.)

Seth: (loudly) Bein’ a loud-mouthed cunt…(People in the bunkhouse start making for the
door.)…I guess sometime since he’s been here this fella who don’t wanna play no more
probably spoke of killin’ Wild Bill Hickok. (McCall raises his head again.)…well, we’re
Bill Hickok’s friends.

(People start making for the door in earnest. Once the place is clear, Seth and Charlie advance
on McCall. Seth pulls his gun, cocks it, and trains it on McCall. McCall closes his eyes in fear.)

Seth: I’m Seth Bullock


Utter: I’m Charlie Utter.
Seth: And if you got your head blown off, sitting here with your back turned, that’d be as fair a
play as you gave him.

(McCall waits for the bullet. Seth hits him on the head with the gun butt and knocks him out.
McCall falls to the floor, whiskey spilling next to him.)
---
( McCall draped over a horse, his hands being tied by Seth. The laconic cowboy walks by.)

Cowboy 1: Guess you wanna soften him up some before you make your offer?

(Seth eyeballs him.)


---
( Charlie and Seth leaving with McCall.)

Seth: My plan is to take him to Yankton for trial. If you’ve got a different idea, go right ahead.
Utter: Naw. Let’s take the cocksucker to Yankton.

(The men ride off)

---------------------------

(Inside the Gem. Dan is busing tables, Miles and Flora in the background)

Dan: Naw, I don’t know of a Henry Anderson in camp, but that don’t mean
there ain’t.
Miles: This was took of him in the Union Army – he’d be twelve years older
now. (Flora walks toward Dan holding the picture) Could you let her
hold it –
Flora: It’s had so much showin’ it’s pretty near fallin’ apart (She backs into Dan, he looks down
at her) Here.. Third from the middle.

(Dan puts his hand atop Flora’s in a caressing manner)

Dan: Right there?


Flora: Yeah.
Dan: Nah, that face don’t look familiar.
Flora: Thanks for lookin’
Dan: You’re definite he’s in these hills?
Miles: He wrote from Bismarck – said he’d send for us when he got set up.
Asshole: I just gotta say, it’s no guarantee that your dad’s anywhere near
this area, (Dan glares at the Asshole, arms folded) and there’s no fuckin’
joy in me tellin’ yuh that, but it’s the goddamn truth and the way human
beings are.

Flora: He said he’d send for our mother and us…


Dan: Is yer momma here?
Flora: She passed.
Dan: Sorry. (Dan begins walking away.) Well, good luck.
Miles: D’you know of work for me?

(Dan, still walking, shakes his head in the negative.)

Dan: No.

(Al’s walking down the stairs)

Al: She can get work right here.


Miles: No sir!
Flora: No, thank you.

(Al scrutinizes Miles)

Al: Can you push a broom?


Miles: (nodding) And I can start now.
Al: Four bits a day. And I’d bet you’d like the first in advance.
Miles: If you wouldn’t mind

(Al turns, looks at Dan, inclines his head toward the boy)

Al: Same for her – as regrets for me being such a ruffian.

(Dan hands out coins to Miles, and then Flora)

Dan: Here y’go, honey.

(Flora turns to Al.)

Al: If I don’t fire him first, you can pick him up at ten.

Flora: (to Al) Thank you, sir (to Miles) I’ll wait for you, Miles.
Miles: Find a safe place to wait, y’hear?

(Flora leaves. Al glances over his shoulder at Jewel.)

Al: We teach a special sweepin’ technique here. Follow her lead.

(Miles looks puzzled.)

-------------------
(FADE UP on the pest tent. Jane is tending to the sick. The Rev takes a cloth, dips it in water,
and puts it on poor unlucky Joey’s lips, and then his head.)
Rev: It’s all right, son, it’s all right. (He turns and looks at Jane, gets her attention.) Excuse
me. (Jane gets up and walks over to the Rev.) I’m required to be at the graveyard. The
widow Garret is laying her husband to rest.
Jane: I’d’a bet a month’s wages that burial woulda took place in New York
City. If I had a fuckin’ paying job.
Rev: (glancing back at Joey) The wet cloth to his lips seems to give him some
relief.
Jane: All right.
Rev: Thank you.

(Rev leaves. Jane goes over to the cloth, sees it bloodied, walks away with it. She passes Andy
Cramed, who’s being looked over by the Doc.)

Jane: What do you think of my patient, Doc?


Doc: Well, he might wanna steer clear of his reflection awhile, but you’re symptom-free, yuh
ain’t contagious no more and yuh can’t get reinfected, so –

(Jane’s rinsing out the cloth.)

Jane: Them as heals under my care stay fuckin’ healed.

Andy: Thanks, Doc.


Doc: I’ve got clothes for you back here. (Goes off in search of clothes.)
Andy: Hereafter, in calamity, I’ll be sure to call for Jane.
Jane: You gonna stick around the camp?
Andy: I believe I will for a while.
Jane: Good, cuz I’m gonna monitor your activities, find out what you do weighs so heavy on
your fuckin’ conscience. When I first come on you in the woods, all’s you could say was
“I apologize.” (Andy grunts bemusedly. Doc returns with the clothes) Afore you exhibit
your johnson, I’m gonna see to this fella. S’long. Good luck to ya.
Andy: Good luck to you.
Jane: All right.
Doc: You’re on your own for alterations.

(Jane in the foreground, clean cloth in hand, sits back down next to Joey as Andy gets dressed in
the background.)

Jane: Now, I’m gonna lay this cloth on your fuckin’ lips. (And proceeds to do so.)

-------------------

(Trixie looking out the window with Sofia as Sol pulls up in his wagon.)

Trixie:There’s Mr. Star to collect us.


Alma: Mr. Star has been ever so attentive.
Trixie:(Trixie looks over, stroking Sophia’s hair.) Very considerate
Alma: To you.

(Trixie looks out the window again. Al is pointedly watching her from across the way, sipping
out of a tin cup, Trixie is concerned.)

Trixie:When we leave the hotel, my boss’ll be watchin’…

Alma: (irreverent) Shall I reel and stagger? (Trixie looks hurt, Alma is instantly contrite.)
I – I know the risk lying to him has put you to – I’ve – I can’t imagine
why I’d make it the subject of humor.
Trixie:(smiling comfortingly) You’re feelin’ better.

(A knock at the door. Alma goes to open it. Sol is standing in the doorway.)

Sol: Am I early?
Alma: Good morning, Mr. Star. I’ll be ready in just a moment.
Sol: I can have a cup of coffee downstairs –
Alma: No, not at all. Wait in here – with Trixie! (Alma bustles out of the room. To Trixie) I’ll
just be a moment

(Alma watches Trixie and Sol in the mirror, smug smile on her face.)
---

(On the street of Deadwood Sol, Alma, Trixie and Sofia leave the hotel. Al is watching from his
window.)

Al: That widow ain’t high.


EB: Mebbe waiting till after the service.
Al: When she’d want to get good and fucking loaded is before the fucking service, against all
the fucking carrying on. (Alma settles herself on the cart next to Sol. Al turns to E.B.)
What do you think?

EB: Makes sense.


Al: Meaning…what that whore’s been telling me the last ten fucking days
about seeing the widow takin’ the dope and your own fuckin’ assurances –
you verify that she’s loaded personally – are both fulla shit.
EB: I checked in on the woman daily. If I was fooled, perhaps I’ve chosen
simplemindedness, Al, over realizing a certain friend has used me as an
instrument of purposes he conceals –
Al: Say what you’re gonna say or prepare for eternal fucking silence.
EB: (agitated) I don’t believe you commissioned me to make an offer on the
widow’s claim to keep the regulators off you, Al. I think someone found
something out there you want.
Al: (aggrieved) Assume you ain’t been privy to the ins and outs of that matter,
for the sake of fucking conversation, huh? Was - was I asleep, E.B., when
you and me declared undying loyalty and full-faith mutual disclosure
about every fucking detail of every fucking move we’re ever gonna
fucking make together?
EB: You used me as a pawn, Al.
Al: And you fucked up the game, is the central fucking present issue. We
agreed on $2000, you want a fucking percentage instead?
EB: Is that such an inconceivable proposition?
Al: Yeah, you got a percentage, E.B.
EB: (greedily) How big?
Al: Two percent of the first million, half a percent after.
EB: (happily) You want to feel a damp palm, Al, select either of these hands –
Al: Just get to the funeral, E.B., go to twenty if you have to. Just get that
fucking claim.
EB: Twenty if I have to. My word.

-------------------

(At the Bella Union, Flora’s talking to Cy.)

Cy: What a handsome man. Wish I could tell you I recognize him.
Flora: Thank you anyway.
Cy: Your dad, I expect?
Flora: Yes.
Cy: You’ve reason to think he’s out here?
Flora: He wrote us from Bismarck he’d be prospecting the hills.
Cy: Us bein’…?
Flora: My brother – he just got work over here.
Cy: (cavalierly) Good for him. (pause) So, it’s just … the two of you?
Flora: Our mother passed – why we come from Buffalo.
Cy: And you’re out here lookin’ for your dad?
Flora: Yes.
Cy: …Henry?
Flora: Yes.

(Eddie walks over.)

Cy: Out here looking for her father, Eddie. Her and her older brother. Got a
photograph – I don’t -- I don’t recognize the likeness.

(Joanie comes down the staircase.)

Eddie: No.
Cy: Henry…Anderson.
Flora: Yes.

(Eddie looks at the photo again)


Eddie: Yeah, I don’t recognize him.

(Joanie walks over, smiles.)

Cy: Well, what are you gonna do while your brother works?
Flora: Work too, while we’re lookin’ to set aside if we have to move on.
Cy: Yeah, if dad doesn’t turn up here, yeah. Well, what do you do?
Flora: Cook, clean, uh – sew. Sweep.
Cy: Uh huh. How quick do ya learn?
Flora: Guess I learn pretty quick.

(Cy looks to Joanie.)

Cy: Maestro.

(Joanie smiles.)

-------------------

(At Brom’s funeral, the coffin on the ground.)

Rev: We are strangers and sojourners. Mr. Garret’s burial place is a great
distance from New York City, but his home is in his father’s house…
Sophia: (over the Rev’s sermon, putting flowers on graves )
Ingrid…Marta…Mama…Papa
Rev: …and on the great day, his father will take him into it, as he will all who
confess his son’s savior from wherever we may be put to rest. Our hymn
is “A Mighty Fortress”

(Everyone sings. Trixie smiles at Sofia.)

Funeral Attendees: (singing) ♪A mighty fortress is our God…♪

(E.B. sees Seth and Charlie riding up. He scurries to Alma’s side as she’s singing.)

EB: My sympathies madam…(Alma stops singing and looks over at Farnum.)


…but my own requirements force me to ignore what’s seemly. I must
decide where to place my capital. Might raising my offer to, say, $19,500,
uh, prompt you to an immediate answer?
Alma: (Aghast) No, Mister Farnum.

(E.B. begins to walk away, beaten. Stops, turns around. Seth dismounts and looks up at Charlie,
who hangs his head down.)

Utter: I’d as soon not see Bill now. I’ll see him some other time.
(Seth walks away, strides toward the funeral. E.B. tries again.)

EB: I will require a decision within 24 hours—


Alma: (interrupting) Please – stop speaking to me, Mr. Farnum.

(E.B. gives up and walks away as Seth joins the funeral party. Seth nods to Sol who responds in
kind. The Rev looks joyful and then confused, loses his train of thought. Alma resumes singing
as Seth (looking mighty fucking fetching if I do say so myself) comes to stand next to her.)

-------------------
(Back in the Gem. Al counting money. Dan looks like something’s weighing on him.)

Dan: I hope you ain’t gived up on that little runt of a girl, Al.
Al: Oh, do you worry for her, Dan? Wandering the muck of our thoroughfare,
her tiny self all but swallowed up in horseshit? (Dan just looks at Al,
shakes his head, and goes off behind the bar. Al looks up and over at
Miles.) Hey kid! C’mere!
Miles: Yes sir.
Al: Stand with us here a second.

(Al and Dan stand with arms folded.)

Miles: What – what’re we doin’?

Al: Waiting. (Miles folds his arms over the broomstick. Waits. A man walks out wiping
his mouth.) And out the door he’ll go, and prompt as a Swiss fuckin’ timepiece, three
big-titted whores will now emerge from behind that screen. (Out come the big-titted
whores. Al chuckles.) He lines ‘em up at two foot intervals, smock tops down, and all
but sprints past ‘em givin’ their titties a lick, and if he misses a titty, does not let himself
retrace his steps.
Miles: No tellin’ me.
Al: Yeah. And then he goes on his way home, relieved for the day. What’s
your name, it’s Miles, hmm?
Miles: Miles, yeah.
Al: Yeah. Strange, huh, Miles, but – something ya gotta know about
specialists – they pay a premium, and they never cause fuckin’ trouble.
Sometimes I imagine in my declining years runnin’ a small joint in
Manchester, England, catering to specialists exclusive. And to let ‘em
know they’re amongst their own, maybe I’ll operate from the corner,
hanging upside down like a fuckin’ bat, hmm? (Al sees Farnum enter the
Gem. Al slaps Dan on the arm.) Oh, we’re not such bad sorts here, huh
Miles?
Miles: No, sir.
Al: So, do you wanna ask your sister if she’d like to reconsider, hmm?
Miles: You don’t really mean that, Mr. Swearengen?
Al: Of course I don’t mean that– how dare you suggest I’d mean a thing like
that, huh?

(Al walks over to Farnum at the end of the bar.)

EB: I did my part – raised our offer to twenty and demanded an answer within
the day.
Al: But what, you cocksucker?
EB: Complications have ensued. Bullock’s come back. I expect she’ll want to
take counsel with him.
Al: (flatly) Tell the whore I wanna see her.
EB: And I trust this doesn’t alter our agreement.
Al: I trust you know two percent of nothin’s fuckin’ nothin’

-------------------

(Seth and Alma at the absurd restaurant, serving themselves food)

Seth: That fella from Montana I knew to trust won’t be able to assay your claim.
Alma: I see.
Seth: I’ll engage someone local, and I’ll keep an eye on him.
Alma: As I’ve decided to stay in camp, Mr. Bullock, at least for the near term, I
hope you’ll feel absolved of those responsibilities towards my interest that
you undertook at Mr. Hickok’s request.
Seth: I’d prefer to see ‘em through.
Alma: They’re properly mine. I even feel marginally capable of shouldering
them, and I certainly realize that you and Mr. Star have responsibilities of
your own.

(Seth looks at Alma consideringly as he holds a pitcher. She walks past him. He looks vexed
and puts the pitcher down.)

Seth: Are you firing me, Mrs. Garrett?


Alma: I’m – offering you – absolution.
Seth: Otherwise, I’m stayin’ on.

(lma smiles and nods. Seth pulls a chair out for her, then seats himself. She looks up at him.)

Alma: (earnestly) I’m so sorry you were hurt.


Seth: So – how hard are they comin’ at you to sell?
Alma: (haltingly) I could confide, that in an effort to blur my judgment, Mr.
Swearengen engaged intermediaries to indulge me with opium, but that
would entail acknowledging that I’ve had a weakness in that direction.
(Seth looks nonplussed.) Uh – more appropriately, uh, I could add at the graveyard, Mr.
Farnum raised his offer – seven thousand, five hundred dollars, presumably also on Mr.
Swearengen’s instruction, and set a 24 hour limit to my reply.
Seth: Under the circumstances, I’d say that’s comin’ pretty hard.
Alma: Please forgive me for making you uncomfortable, Mr. Bullock. I had
better manners before I began to abstain.
Seth: That’s all right. (pauses) Anyways, are you at risk for the smallpox?
Alma: I was inoculated in New York City. The child whose life you saved
presumably has not been, but I assume she’s safer under my care than
traveling in a covered wagon with strangers.
Seth: Anyways, I’ll line up the assayer.
Alma: Thank you.

(They keep looking at each other.)

Seth: You are changed.


Alma: You seem to be, too.

-------------------

(In the hardware store, Sol’s talking to Trixie, who’s got Sofia in her arms.)

Sol: Our stock’s depleted, but we are offering a 100% discount on any item that catches your
eye.
Trixie: I’ve got money.
Sol: Our special get-acquainted-with-those-we’d-like-to-get-acquainted-with sale…(Charlie
walks in carrying stuff.) Mr. Utter.
Utter: I brought these pickaxes for you to sell. There’s two sifters on that black
(?) out there.
Sol: Mighty grateful, sir.
Utter: (Utter looks around) You got this place just about built, don’t ya?
Sol: Savin’ the last master strokes for Seth.

(Utter turns, sees Trixie, tips his hat.)

Utter: Uh, hello. I didn’t see ya.


Trixie:Hello.
Utter: Hey – that’s that little girl, idn’t it?
Trixie:I’m takin’ care of her for Mrs. Garret.
Utter: Well, she favors you – she could be yours. (Trixie walks off to the back of the store.) I
lost the receipts for my costs.
Sol: Maybe while you was busy saving my partner’s life.
Utter: (uncomfortable) Let me get these sifters for ya.

(Sol walks out after Charlie, turns back to Trixie.)

Sol: See if you can make those accounts add up. (Trixie looks at the books, then back at Sol,
smiles. He puts his hat on and heads out the door to Charlie, who’s getting the sifters off
the horse.) I don’t know if you heard me inside, thankin’ you for helpin’ my friend.
Utter: I heard yuh. It’s all right.
Sol: I’m sorry you lost yours.

(Charlie still can’t deal with thinking about it.)

Utter: All right. Thank you.

(E.B. walks up to Charlie, who’s walking away.)

EB: Welcome back, Mr. Utter. We’ve had a mild increase in rates, but I do
have a room available.
Utter: I’ll see.

(Farnum walks over to the hardware store, Sol is standing outside.)

Sol: What do you want, Mr. Farnum?


EB: I have a message for Trixie. That’s lookin’ to that orphan child? She’s to
see her longer-term employer.
Sol: I’ll tell her.

(E.B., the weasel, steps closer to Sol.)

EB: (smarmy) You know who that is?


Sol: I know she works at the Gem.
EB: And even so, admit her to your trade at public hours. Congratulations,
sir, on your advanced thinking. (shouting, to Trixie)Al wants you, Trixie.
(to Sol) I’m a stickler for self-delivered messages.

(E.B. scurries off.)

-------------------

(Back at the Bella Union, Flora talking to Joanie.)

Flora: Our dad ain’t here – I know it. Even if my brother don’t. Maybe he never
even tried to get here.
Joanie: Or maybe he did try to get here and couldn’t – maybe something
happened to him. There are so many ways it could be, Flora, there’s not
much point deciding which it was.
Flora: He’d never think that, though. My brother.
Joanie: Must be how he needs to do.
Flora: (abruptly) I ain’t a virgin. If you wanna know that. I had a boyfriend in
Buffalo.
Joanie: And was you upset? To have to leave him?
Flora: What do you think?
Joanie: I don’t know
Flora: I was upset, at the same time he was a stupid son of a bitch. And rough.

(Joanie pulls out a handkerchief and gives it to Flora. )

Joanie: Here.

(Flora wipes her eyes and nose.)

Flora: You can’t tell my brother about him. He’d make it back to Buffalo and
shoot Louis in the head.
Joanie: All that way in defense of your virtue?
Flora: (hard) It’s more trouble than I ever took with it.

-------------------

Downstairs at the Bella Union. Andy Cramed walks in. Eddie leans over to Cy.

Eddie: Cy.

(Cy walks over to the advancing Andy. Cy raises his arms.)

Cy: Lazarus risen. (smiles) Look at you, you son of a gun.


Andy: Hello Cy.
Eddie: Good to see you, Andy.
Andy: (making to shake Eddie’s hand) Don’t be afraid to shake with me, Eddie.
I ain’t contagious no more.
Cy: Highly becoming outfit.
Andy: I’m here for my belongings.
Cy: Well – they’re gone, Andy. Measures to stop the spread. (Andy looks
down. He’s upset.)Ah, hell. The important thing is you’re well. I’ll front
whatever you need. Let’s get somethin’ going, huh?

(Joanie walks down, sees the men.)

Joanie: Andy…?
Andy: In the flesh, sweetheart. Which ain’t much to look at.
Joanie: You made it, Andy.

(Cy holds money out to Andy)

Andy: We ain’t gettin’ nothin’ going. All I come back for, Cy, was my things,
and you tossed them too.
Cy: Why don’t you take this and get yourself out of that clown outfit? And
once you’ve cooled off a little, think how you’da done different with
somebody showed up in the shape you was in and my responsibilities to
meet.
Andy: Better, then, to throw him in the woods to fuckin’ die?
Cy: Then don’t think about nuthin’, Andy. And go use the money for a whore
and a toot and go join the fuckin’ circus. (Cy stuffs the money down
Andy’s shirt, Andy walks out, Cy turns to Joanie.) Did you turn her out?
Joanie: Her brother’s gonna be a problem.
Cy: Fuck her brother. We’ll handle the brother if we have to kill the
cocksucker. (He glances up.) That’s an interesting piece of strange.

(Cy walks off leaving Eddie and Joanie to look at each other. Eddie walks off)

-------------------

(Al’s office, a knock on the door, Trixie walks in.)

Al: Ain’t you a picture.


Trixie:What is it?
Al: Hmm? (He gets up from the desk and walks over to Trixie.) Am I – detaining you in some
way? (Closes the door to his office) Am I fucking imposing? (He stands behind her.)
Trixie:Mrs. Garret’s to sit down with Bullock. I thought you’d want me over
there.
Al: Ah, yeah, so you could give me a full and fair report, huh? But will the
widow have her wits about her, Trixie, hmm, or will they be passing the
opium pipe like heathens between ‘em, her and fucking Bullock, eh?
Trixie:What’re you pissed off for?
Al: (rubbing his temples) I ain’t pissed off, I’m in fucking wonderment. I’m
waitin’ to be kept happy by the next fuckin’ fairy tale.
Trixie:(softly) Do you want me back at the hotel, or do you want to do somethin’
to me?

(Al walks over to Trixie and does the snatch grab.)

Al: Now why would I want you to go back there, hmm? Or rely on anything
you said transpired after you lied about her taking the dope? Huhhhh?

(Al hauls up on the snatch. Trixie’s in pain.)

Trixie:Her bein’ high. Wasn’t gonna have nuthin’ to do with whether or not she
sold you that claim. And she wanted to get off the dope. And that little
one needs someone to care for her, and maybe get her the fuck out of here,
and I knew it wudn’t gonna be me. So you want me back over there and
to tell you what they fucking decide – or do you wanna rip my fucking
guts out?

(Al releases his hand.)


Al: Get back there, quick. (Trixie makes to leave.) Don’t kid yourself, Trixie. Don’t get a
mistaken idea.

(Trixie looks back and then walks out.)

-------------------

(At Nuttall’s # 10 Saloon, Charlie walks in, takes off his hat. Nuttall sees him - nervously
touches his hat...)

Nuttall: Mr. Utter.


Utter: This where Bill got killed, huh?

(Nuttall nods guiltily, removes his hat, fiddles with it.)

Nuttall: Uh. I’ll be sorry about that for as long as I live.


Utter: Can ya … tell me about it?
Nuttall: Yeah. It was about sunup, over at that Bella Union joint. Mr. Hickok
plumb gutted McCall at draw. ‘N now here Mr. Hickok was, at poker
again, say a couple hours of daylight left, ‘n in come that coward McCall.
Walked up on him, ‘n shot him in the head.
Utter: (in wonderment) Bill never know when he come in.
Nuttall: Nope. Those of us that did, we didn’t have no inkling of what he
intended. He just murdered him. Right where he sat.
Poker Dude: If I may sir. (We see him stand up and tap a chair.) This is here
where Wild Bill was sitting when McCall entered from the front and
approached the table, causing no apprehension because he had often
frequented the game. Of a sudden, McCall produced a revolver, and
shouting “Take that, damn you!” he fired, muzzle couldn’t’ve been three
inches from Wild Bill’s head, and I’m told that Hickok fell dead
immediately, but I won’t testify to it, because the bullet, after it passed
through Wild Bill’s brain, struck me in my right wrist, and I lost several
seconds to pain before regaining my senses. Sir – you have my word as
eyewitness to the rest, and I suppose this wound is added proof, for the
doctors they feared crippled me, in the hand I use to write, where I will
take the murderer’s bullet to my grave.

(Utter shifts. Looks back up at Nuttall.)

Utter: Thanks.

(Utter leaves. Poker dude slaps the bar with his hand.)

Poker Dude: Aces over eights. As I just now recall. (He seats himself again.) That is the hand
that Wild Bill had.
Stapleton: Sure, sure.

-------------------

(Back upstairs at the Bella Union with Joanie and Flora. Joanie is fixing Flora’s hair.)

Joanie: You like how that falls?

(PAN to see the two of them in the mirror. Flora’s in fetching lingerie.)

Flora: Sure.
Joanie: Do you like it. Flora.
Flora: (deadpan) Why not.

(Joanie grabs Flora’s face with her hand, turns her head so she’s looking at her.)

Joanie: I prefer you happy, honey. But if you can’t be, you need to
pretend at it better than you’re doin’, or you’re gonna be hungry, and cold,
and getting done to you for nothing outside, what you’d’ve made money
to live on and save up besides, if you acted the part in here.

Flora: I thought I only had to act it with them that want to stick it in me.
Joanie: You never know who that might be, Flora. (Flora contorts her lips
into a smile. Joanie lets go of her face.) There you go.

(They turn back to the mirror. Flora considers Joanie.)

Flora: I prefer you happy.

(Joanie looks at her, saying nothing for a moment.)

Joanie: …or at least pretending better?

(And continues arranging Flora’s attire.)

-------------------

(Back at the pest tent, Jane is staring grimly at the ailing Joey. Doc walks over to her.)

Jane: I think he’s dead, Doc.

(Doc nods, closes the boy’s eyes.)

Doc: Could you tell the litter bearers not to make so much o’ getting this one
outta here?
(Jane nods and leaves as Rev enters.)

Rev: Has young Joey gone to dust.

Doc: Yeah.

(He slumps away as Rev gets closer to the body, Bible at the ready.)

Rev: As flesh must, to be restored by the Savior’s return. (Doc just watches the Rev, as Jane
comes back into the tent to attend to Joey. The Rev turns back to the Doc.) Mr. Bullock
is back among us, and also…(gesturing to Jane)…also Mr. Utter
Jane: Does Charlie know about Bill?
Rev: They were together, Mr. Bullock and he. They’d captured Jack McCall.

(Jane raises her fists in triumph.)

Jane: I hope that’s only the beginning of what they fuckin’ did to’m.
Rev: They gave him over to the federal authorities.
Jane: Gave him over?!
Rev: Rendered unto Caesar.
Jane: (sorrowful) Jesus Christ!

(The Rev gestures shakily to his temple)

Rev: Mr. Bullock was struck by an Indian’s axe – marked like the first born of Adam and Eve.
Jane: (skeptical) Are you drunk?

(The Rev leans forward, face close to Jane’s)

Rev: No.

(But then his face contorts – another seizure is beginning.)

Jane: What the fuck is that?

(Jane reaches out toward the Rev as the Doc begins maneuvering him to a sitting position.)

Doc: He’s all right. Reverend, all right, Reverend, all right, all right, Reverend.
All right. (The Rev sits, still convulsing.) You’re all right Reverend. All
right.

(The Rev slowly comes back to, um, normal, breathing heavily.)

Rev: He marks us sinful, and forgiven by confession.


Doc: All right.
Rev: (almost gleeful) He has told us and shown us. He has told me.
(Doc is staring intently at the Rev.)

Doc: All right. (jabbing the Rev in the chest) You listen to me now, Reverend. You are
goddamn exhausted and you give yourself no respite. And your seizures may owe
somethin’ to that, but it also wouldn’t surprise me if you had a lesion in your goddamn
head…(Jane looks on, eyes filling)…and that’s what’s giving you the seizures and
generating your chats with the goddamn divinity. No goddamn offense intended.
Rev: None taken, sir.
Doc: Now, get outta here and get yerself some rest.
Jane: Go on, Reverend. (Doc straightens up.) Doc’s tired too, only reason he’s talkin’ so
fuckin’ harsh.

(The Rev mulls on this for a moment, then looks up at Doc.)

Rev: Could not the lesion be the instrument of God’s instructive intention,
doctor, if I am so afflicted?
Doc: Well, of course it could, his ways not bein’ ours and so forth. But could
he not, Reverend, just once, you gettin’ outta here and gettin’ yerself some
goddamn rest?

(The Rev looks confused, as Jane and Doc help him up. Rev exits the tent and Jane looks
tearfully at Doc.)

-------------------

(Outside in the street, Flora walking with Terrence.)

Flora: You have to go now.


Terrance: We don’t have to do nothin’ – I’d pay the same price just to set
with you.
Flora: My brother works in this place up here, Terrance, and he keeps a hard
watch. If you want to stick it in me again tomorrow, you better let me go
in there by myself.
Terrance: What time you gonna start?
Flora: Eleven, I guess I’ll be receiving around noon.
Terrance: All right, Flora, here’s – here’s a dollar anyway. You’re swell.

(Terrence leaves, while Flora has an inscrutable look on her face. She secures the money in her
waistband. Flora enters the Gem. Dan approaches, all smiles. He’s gussied himself up for
Flora, he’s a Dapper Dan man and has put on a tie)

Dan: Evening – evening miss. You’re early.

Flora: Yes.
Dan: Do I guess no luck finding Dad?
Flora: No. No luck.
Dan: I knew you’d’a had a cheerier look on yer face if you had. Let me get you a place to set
away from these rough sumbitches. (Dan goes to a table where a man is sitting, Flora
follows.) Hey! (kicks the chair the man is sitting in) Do your drinkin’ at the bar or get the
fuck outta here. (to Flora) Have a seat here. (Flora sits.) I --I’ll get you a beverage, you
want a soft cider or a sarsaparilla?

Flora: Cider, if it’s not a trouble.


Dan: Soft cider.

(Dan heads off to get his beloved a soft cider. He walks past the Asshole.)

Asshole: Did she find her dad?

(Dan leans in real close to the asshole.)

Dan: (threateningly) Her chances of findin’ her dad are greater than yours of
walkin’ outta this door upright, unless you shut your fuckin’ mouth. Ya
got it?

(Dan moves on. Asshole looks after Dan, silent.)

-------------------

(Back in the hardware store, Sol is putting the pickaxes away.)

Sol: Swearengen’s has his hand on the tiller, far as dealin’ with this epidemic.
Seth: Is that so.
Sol: The dead don’t drink or chase women must be his thinkin’ on that subject.

(Seth is clearly brooding about something.)

Seth: That Indian fought like hell.


Sol: Guess you did too.
Seth: (tightly) Charlie figgered out how it musta been – the Indian had to kill me
for comin’ on the burial place, ‘n maybe it’d been me, too, that killed his
friend, cut his friend’s head off so his friend wouldn’t have eyes to see the
sunset all those years he’d be lying there dead. So he had to kill me for
that too. And he couldn’t, before he laid hands on me or the killing
wouldn’t be honorable. (Seth looks over at Sol, tears in his eyes. Sol looks
sympathetically at Seth.) We fought like fuckin’ hell, I’ll tell ya that
much. And I never once had the upper hand, it just – happened out the
way it happened out. He was just tryin’ to live, same as me, and do honor
to his friend, make some fuckin’ sense out of things, and we wind up that
way, and I wind up after, beatin’ him till I couldn’t recognize his face. For
Christ’s sake. (Seth pauses, choked up.) That Indian…saved Jack
McCall’s life, I’ll tell you that fuckin’ much.
Sol: Not for long.
Seth: Brian McDonald not comin’ I want his recommendation who should assay
that widow’s claim.
Sol: Whose?
Seth: Swearengen’s.

(Sol looks puzzled as Seth makes to leave the store.)

Sol: (calling after Seth) Shit, Seth, get his opinion too who should guard that
henhouse we’re gonna build

(Seth looks back at Sol in the doorway and then walks away.)

-------------------

(Back inside the Gem, Miles is lighting a lamp for Flora’s table.)

Miles: So. You okay?


Flora: Yes. Are you?
Miles: Yes. They’re nice here. That Mr. Swearengen – he’s funny as all get-out.

(CUT to Al, eating fucking fruit, as always.)

Miles: (whispering to Flora) So what place would make a better score?


Flora: Where I’m workin’ – but why not take ‘em both?

(CUT back to Al, fork half raised to his mouth, as Seth walks into the Gem.)

Seth: Can we have a private talk.


Al: Sure we can. (raises his fork) Should I be armed?
Seth: Where do you want to talk.
Al: C’mere

(Al leads Seth up the stairs to his office as Johnny watches, with Dan watching…hmm, someone
else.)

Johnny: What d’you think of that?


Dan: I think that son of a bitch better stop lookin’ evil at that little girl

(We see the Asshole lookin’ evil at that little girl.)

-------------------

(Seth and Al in Al’s office. Al opens his drawer to get the bottle.)
Al: So, was it McCall improved your appearance?
Seth: No.
Al: Well, whoever got the job done, hope you gave as good as you got. And it’s good to
have you back, what with me being superstitious and all hell breakin’ loose when you
left.

(Al resumes eating his fucking fruit.)

Seth: I’m here to talk about Mrs. Garret.


Al: That planted her husband this morning?
Seth: I wrote a man about coming to assay her claim but he can’t make it.
Al: Plenty of local alternatives.
Seth: I want you to nominate someone.
Al: (chewing) Do you.
Seth: So if any way his work was mistaken, I’d be comin’ after you.
Al: (inclining his head) You would.
Seth: Yes.
Al: Well, since I got nothin’ to do with the fuckin’ venture, what if I decline to make the
fucking recommendation?
Seth: Then you better hope whoever I find does his job right, cuz I’m still holdin’ you
accountable.

(Al sets down the fucking fruit and grabs the fucking bottle.)

Al: I ain’t involved. EB Farnum offered on her claim.


Seth: Farnum’s your waterboy. And I know what you been tryin’ to do to her.
Al: So here you come, in all nobility, threatenin’ me with a dire result, if the
property that widow’s husband thought worthless and wanted sold, turns
out not to be pinched out.
Seth: You and I know how it is, Mr. Swearengen.
Al: How what is?

(Seth stands.)

Seth: She gets a square shake, or I come for you.

(Al rises.)

Al: What if I come for you – you ready for that.


Seth: I guess I’d better be.
Al: Then close your fuckin’ store, cuz bein’ ready for me’ll take care of your wakin’ hours,
and you better have someone to hand the task off to when you close your fuckin’ eyes.

Seth: We understand each other.


(Suddenly, there’s shouting from downstairs)

Johnny: Al! Al!

(Al runs to the door and sees Dan doing the dance of death with the Asshole.)

Al: Jesus fucking Christ. Walk right past me, Your Holiness, so I can shut my fuckin’ office.
Johnny: Al!

(Dan is holding the Asshole against a post as he struggles. Al is walking down the stairs.)

Dan: (muttering into Asshole’s ear) Stare at her now, huh? You like fuckin’ little girls? Well,
take a look at that little girl, cuz she’s the last thing you’re ever gonna see. Stare at her
now, cocksucker.

Al: (shouting) Let him down! Let him fucking down!

(Dan pulls the knife out. Asshole falls to the floor, dead. Al looks back up the stairs at Seth.)

Al: Or should I’ve had him hold him up?


Seth: You heard what I said about the widow.
Al: Oh, yes, your Holiness. You heard me too. (Seth walks out of the Gem, stepping over the
Asshole’s body.) So I take it this was a fair fuckin’ fight, yeah? (Murmurs of assent
throughout the Gem as Al makes his way down the stairs.) Two free drinks for
everybody! And drinks all night for them that helps with the disposal.
Dan: (to Flora) I’m sorry that you had to see that
Al: Shut the fuck up, Dan and get her the fuck away from here. Now!

(Miles takes a shocked Flora out of the Gem, walks past Al.)

Miles: Sorry, Mr. Swearengen.


Dan: (to Al) I warned him not to look at her – I warned him.
Al: Fuckin’ pussy.

-------------------

(At the graveyard, Jane is talking to Bill’s grave, hat in hand)

Jane: That Joey passed this afternoon – bin sufferin’ awful. But that frog-lookin’ fellow left
the tent…(Someone else is approaching the graveyard.)…that I found up in the woods?
Left the tent fucking cured, pronounced by the Doc himself. In the dumbest lookin’
outfit a grown man ever wore. (Jane suddenly senses another’s presence and pulls her
gun.) Who’s there, goddamnit?
Utter: Who the hell’s it look like?

(Charlie steps into the light, hat in hand.)


Jane: (belligerently) How the fuck do I know who it fuckin’ looks like? It’s dark! She holsters
her gun and puts her hat back on. Jesus Christ, come upon a person unawares in a fuckin’
graveyard. (pauses, speaks gently) I heard you wuz back in the camp. I heard you and
that Bullock got the cocksucker came for Bill.
Utter: (hoarsely) Was Bill dead – by the time you saw him?
Jane: Yeah, he was already dead.
Utter: Why did he let that son of a bitch get to him?
Jane: (softly) I don’t know, Charlie. (more jovially) Anyways, people don’t
scare me past speakin’, I come up here nights, tell ‘im the fuckin’ news.

(Charlie looks over at Jane, shifts his feet, backs up, puts his hat back on.)

Utter: Go ‘head.

(Jane takes her hat off, so does Charlie)

Jane: Charlie avenged your fuckin’ murder.


Utter: And that Bullock fella was with me, that you seem to like.
Jane: Oh, and it occurred to me to wonder why the fuck they didn’t do for the
cocksucker right on the fuckin’ spot.
Utter: Is that somethin’ we need to get into in front of him?
Jane: You got the biggest mouth in the Territory – you talk to him. Tell him
whatever you want.
Utter: I got that mail route in Cheyenne that we talked about. I was bringin’ back
supplies for them hardware boys, and I run into that Bullock fella. He was
out there, lookin’ for that McCall that killed you. ‘N he run into some
heathen, boy, and he had one hell of a fight, boy, he just, he got, he got
fuck, fuck…(Charlie breaks down, Jane puts her hand on his shoulder)
Can I tell him more tomorra?
Jane: Sure, what the fuck you askin’ me for? I don’t make the rules. (Jane puts her hat back on
and grabs the lantern. Charlie puts his hat back on.) Wanna go back to the camp?
Utter: Please.

(The two walk down the hill together)

-------------------

(Inside Alma’s hotel room, she’s dithering on to Trixie)

Alma: And what must Mr. Bullock have been thinking, as I inflicted my personal
confidences upon him?
Trixie:I dunno.
Alma: (dramatically) Nor do I. At least he kept a decent privacy.
Trixie:I have to go back to the Gem. He’s waitin’ for me now, to tell him yours
and Mr. Bullock’s thinkin’ about sellin’ the claim. And I won’t be able to
lie anymore. Next I tell’ll be my last. So I better just get back there.
Alma: Mr. Swearengen discovered our deception?
Trixie:Yeah.
Alma: How?
Trixie:(acerbic) Lookin’ at you walk out the fuckin’ hotel
Alma: (anxious) He did not. I was careful to see he wasn’t watching in the
window.
Trixie:It don’t matter, Mrs. Garret. Point is, I gotta go back. And you need
someone to look to this child. And with choices bigger elsewhere and
nothin’ I can tell to hold you here, maybe you’d better think about sellin’
and gettin’ out.
Alma: Would you want to take the girl and go?
Trixie:Where? I have no people anywhere.
Alma: You could go to New York. I could have my relatives there see you
established.
Trixie:(darkly amused) What the fuck? What would keep you here? (Sophia
peeks over at the two women.) You want to fuck this man? Fuck him.
Then think about the child.
Alma: (upset) Don’t use that language with me, Trixie. Or that tone.
Trixie:Don’t you want to say, to remember my place? I do, you rich cunt. And
I’m goin’ back to it. (Trixie walks away from Alma, sighs.) She’s about to
say her name, y’know. She named her sisters, and her folks. (Trixie turns
back to Alma.) Think of sellin’. If you took her away you could hear her
say it.

(Trixie leaves.)

(Sofia looks over at Alma. Alma sighs, upset, and looks at Sophia.)

(Credit roll with Lyle Lovett singing Old Friend.)

Credited cast:
Timothy Olyphant Seth Bullock
Ian McShane Al Swearengen
Molly Parker Alma Garret
Jim Beaver Ellsworth
Brad Dourif Doc Cochran
John Hawkes Sol Star
Paula Malcomson Trixie
Leon Rippy Tom Nuttall
William Sanderson Eustis Baily (E.B.)
Farnum
Robin Weigert Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown Dan Dority
Dayton Callie Charlie Utter

"Bullock Returns to the Camp" Episode: #1.7 - 2 May 2004 Guest Appearances
Kristen Bell Flora Anderson
Sean Bridgers Johnny Burns
Greg Cipes Miles Anderson
Kim Dickens Joanie Stubbs
Garret Dillahunt Jack McCall
Zach Grenier Andy Cramed
Peter Jason Stapleton
Ricky Jay Eddie Sawyer
Geri Jewell Jewel
Ray McKinnon Reverend H.W. Smith (as Raymond McKinnon)
Nicolas Surovy Captain
Bree Seanna Wall Metz Girl
Everette Wallin
Richard Wharton
Clay Wilcox
Jim Cody Williams Terrence

Publicity images & episode content © 2004 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved. HBO and
Deadwood are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2004 Cristi H. Brockway.
The copyright claimed by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her personal contribution of
material not contained in the episode from which this transcript was compiled. Any commercial
use of this transcript is expressly prohibited.
Episode 8 - Suffer the Little Children
(In the gem, Jewel is busy scrubbing at the bloodstain on the floor left behind courtesy of Dan’s dislike
of a customers look towards Flora earlier that night. Upstairs in Al’s office, Dan is sitting across from
Al, who is sitting at his desk. Dan is picking at a spot on the tie he is wearing.)

Al: You might, Dan, want to learn how to indicate interest in a girl, other than murderin’ another
person.
Dan: I apologize for the disruption, and the free drinks you had to give out, restorin’ order.
EB: Jesus Christ, it’s false dawn, Al. False dawn already. If we’re gonna act, we should do it in
darkness.
Al: Where’s the fucking whore?
EB: Well, wherever Trixie is, we know what we need to. Bullock’s four square behind the New York
woman. The question’s do we act? And to me, the course is clear.
Al: Well, what’s the course?
EB: Murder them where they sleep! The New York woman and Bullock both.
Al: Dan. Loan EB your knife. (Dan reaches to his side for his knife)
EB: Now, I won’t brandish the knife. But I’ll wield a pass key at the widow’s door. As for Bullock,
he sleeps on his store’s second floor. And I’ll steady a ladder, Dan, at that wall. While you
climb up and bushwhack him. Then, with them dead and disposed of we forge a predated bill of
sale. Take possession of the claim. With the allocated percentages of ownership previously
agreed to in our internal discussions. And don’t spend a fuckin’ dollar in the process! (E.B. has
a clever, proud, excited look on his face. Al and Dan look at each other like he’s gone nuts)
Bold? I suppose. But when boldness is called for, bold men do not shrink.
Al: That’s what the ‘B’ in E.B. Farnum stands for.
Dan: Bold
Al: You’re goddamned right.
EB: Say it, Al. Say the fuckin’ words my bones already know. You’re gonna back off on that
fuckin’ claim.

(Gunshots ring out in the street, we hear a bunch of whoopin’ and hollerin’ and general cheering
outside. Al, EB and Dan all head for the balcony.)

Rider1: We ‘brung’ it, sir. Vaccine for the “smallpox” secured in Cheyenne.
Al: Well done, fellas. And congratulations on the entire fuckin’ settlement. EB, get downstairs and
get these heroes what they’re owed.
EB: Yes, sir. $50 a man.
Al: Yeah, and if you don’t spend it in my joint I’ll turn the mornin’ over to weepin’.
Rider1: Aw, you won’t shed nary a tear on our account, Mr. Swearengen.
Al: Vaccine to Doc Cochran in the pest tent.
Rider2: And We’ll be toastin’ a treaty too with the fuckin’ heathens.
Al: Explain yourself.
Rider2: Hell, they’ve all been called back to the agency, we heard that in Cheyenne.
Al: Are they goin’s the fuckin’ question.
Rider2: Fuck yeah they are.
Rider1: That’s the word in Cheyenne. Red Cloud and Spotted Tail are leadin’ their people in.
Al: Dan, 10 dollars in bonus credits across the board for these heroes. 10 in pussy, 10 in faro, 10 in
booze.
Riders: Woo! Ah, ha ha!
Rider1: God bless you, Mr. Swearengen!
Al: Well, not likely. But my short term prospect’s just improved.

(Al goes back into his office from the balcony. EB is still inside, waiting for him.)

EB: Say the words, so I can let the dream die.


Al: EB did you not hear the fucking news? Did you not listen to the fucking news? The plague’s
end in prospect. And so’s peace with the fucking dirt worshippers. (Al opens the shutters leading
to his bedroom from his office. He waves EB in.) Come here, come here. Sit down. The
dam…has broken, young man. And only ourselves can fuck up. For we are about to be
swimmin’ in money. And how could we fuck up? By engaging in open fucking bloodletting.
And right here at hand, in our very hour of need, is the priggish fucking douche bag Bullock.
Who only wants to sell pots and pans, fan his pretty face and hold his nose from the stench of our
fuckin’ sordid carryings on over here. All the time thinking he can protect the meek and
innocent. The perfect fucking front man, and you wanna kill him? Much as we might want the
widow’s claim, it’s a luxury now to forego. EB, find yourself somewhere to lie down ‘til the
feeling passes, huh?
EB: First, I’ll go give the hoople-heads their money.
Al: Thank you. (Stands up and leaves)

(Takes off his vest, lays down on the bed and begins to undo his pants. Johnny enters the office and
looks over at Al, on the bed)

Al: You go find that fucking whore.

(Johnny gives Al an “OK” and “Thumbs up” hand signal.)

Al: What the fuck is this? Huh? (Imitates Johnny’s hand signals)
Johnny: (hoarsely) I lost my voice.

(Al covers his face – like he’s thinking “unbelievable! I’m surrounded by idiots!”)

---

(Joanie’s room upstairs at the Bella Union. There is a knocking at her door. When she opens the door,
Flora is standing there looking scared with big doe eyes)

Joanie: What happened?


Flora: I seen somethin’ bad.
Joanie: Come in. Here, sit down. (Flora sits down on the bed)
Flora: I seen somethin’ at the place my brother works. A man was stabbed and killed right in front of
me. (Joanie pours a drink) One man said he didn’t like the way the other man was lookin’ at me
and he stabbed and killed him. (Flora looks up at Joanie with big doe eyes and as she is looking
up at Joanie, she takes off her shawl.)
Joanie: Drink this. (Hands Flora the drink) Where’s your brother now? (Flora drinks some
whiskey, she’s looking down at her hands.)
Flora: We got a room. (Looks up at Joanie with those big eyes again) I’ll go in a minute.
Joanie: It’s alright, Flora. (Joanie sits down on the bed next to Flora)
Flora: I just come to say…I don’t know if I can do this. It’s horrible! It’s one thing leads to another,
and you never know when it’s gonna happen.
Joanie: But mostly, you can steer it, sweetheart, and when it’s going to get to where you can’t,
you get just a little notice, just a couple of seconds, before the one thing turns into the other. It’s
like a funny smell comes into the air. And then you know, there’s no more steering and get the
hell out of the way.
Flora: I smelled it in the saloon.
Joanie: And did you get out of the way in time? (Flora nods and starts to cry) It’s alright, it’s
alright. (Flora puts her head down in Joanie’s lap)
Flora: Miles doesn’t know nothin’. He didn’t smell nothin’ and didn’t know nothin’ about what to do.
Joanie: Alright, I know.
Flora: Can I stay? Can I sleep here with you just this last little while before we have to get up?
Joanie: Yeah, you can sleep here with me.

(Flora sits up, takes off her boots, undoes her camisole)

Flora: Can you help? (Turns her back to Joanie, J helps her take off her bib type thingy, Flora
unbuttons her bustier a little bit, lays down, unbuttons a little more, Joanie caresses her shoulder
briefly, runs her hand down Flora’s arm and ends up holding her hand.)
---
(The next morning, out in the street, people are lined up in front of the hardware store for their
smallpox shots. Andy Cramed is manning the sign in booth.)

Andy: Name?
Hoople head: Boland
Andy: Make your mark.

(Up on the balcony of the Bella Union, across the way, Cy and Eddie are watching Andy man the sign in
desk.)

Cy: Saint Andy Cramed. All that’s missin’ are the scourges and flays.
Eddie: Maybe they’re under his shirt.

(Cy laughs, Andy gazes up to them on the balcony…Inside the hardware store, Doc & Jane are giving
the shots.)

Doc: Kind of you to let us work out of the horseshit and flies.
Seth: Sure.
(Jane sticks Charlie Utter with the vaccine. He stands up )
Utter: Oh. Uh-oh. (Falls over)
Jane: Jesus Christ! (Jane looks over at the Doc, he just looks at her, she opens her arms out slightly,
palms forward like “WTF am I supposed to do about this?” Doc looks back down at what he
was doing)

(Johnny Burns sits down in the Chair in front of Doc, ready for his shot)

Johnny: (Hoarsely) Ha-have you seen Trixie, Doc?


Doc: What?
Johnny: (Puts his fingers in a triangle shape over his groin. Hoarsely again:) Trixie.
Doc: No. (Sticks him with the needle – Johnny gets up and starts to head for the door.) Tea and
Honey.
Johnny: For this? (Motions to his arm)
Doc: You are a stupid sonofabitch. (Seth is looking at Johnny)
Sol: Yeah, the traffic’s a boon, Seth. Brought $27 already from yesterday’s entire proceeds.
Seth: Good. (Seth walks out, after Johnny. Leave Sol behind with his eyebrows still raised excited
from the profit.)
Jane: Pitiful Specimen you are. (Jane helps Utter stand back up)
Utter: It wasn’t a pin prick. I ain’t ate.
Jane: Really. Strange you never keeled over when we was hungry on the fuckin’ trail.
---
Seth: (Outside, following Johnny) Your boss speak to you about sending me an assayer this morning?
Johnny: (hoarsely) Um, no, sir. He didn’t. But I will, remind him once I finish his errand…got one..I
only got one place left to look. (Seth looks over into the line and sees Alma with Sophia) Bella
Union and that’s our competition. Well, I’ll tell him what you said.

(Johnny heads over to the Bella Union and Seth walks over to Alma Throughout this conversation the
line for the smallpox shots they are in is advancing, with Seth walking alongside them.)

Seth: Good Mornin’.


Alma: Good Morning, Mr. Bullock.
Seth: You’ve come to have the child inoculated?
Alma: Yes, and to tell you, for reasons we needn’t explore, that my plans have changed. As soon as I
can arrange transportation, (Seth looks away, confused) I’ll return with the child to New York
City.
Seth: (Looking back at Alma, intensely) Why needn’t we explore your reasons?
Alma: Because, Mr. Bullock, I’ve already quite sufficiently imposed upon you my private reasons and
facts. (Seth looks confused, he looks like he wants to say something, begins to open his mouth,
but Alma cuts him off.) As regards to the claim, my husband purchased before his murder, I’m
inclined to accept the last bid from Mr. Swearengen’s hand puppet. And I would be very
grateful if you would tell Mr. Farnum so, as speaking to him directly makes me ill. (Seth smiles.)
Seth: I’m gonna assay your claim, Mrs. Garrett. I promised Mr. Hickok and I promised you.
Alma: I released you from your promise to me yesterday and today I specifically instruct you not to
keep it.
Seth: And you do tend to change your mind. And the first promise, you weren’t a party to. (Steps in
front of her) Why don’t you get the child inoculated? I’ll go about my business, and we’ll revisit
the whole mess subsequently. (Seth walks away, Alma looks confused at first, then she smiles.)
---
(In the Gem, Dan and Al are downstairs. Dan is sitting down listening to Al who is pacing as he is
talking, drinking coffee.)

Al: Don’t fuckin’ lead Ellsworth right to it so he can hoop and holler and hail fuckin’ Bullock. You
walk around. You’re discouraged. (Looks up) It’s not even worth it to make the steep ascent.
Dan: I start from below?
Al: You start at the fucking creek. What, do you want to start at the fucking cliff and the three of
you leap the fuck off holding hands? (Seth enters) Top of the mornin’!
Dan: (Gets up, strapping on his belt) I’m to lead you to the widow Garrett’s claim.
Seth: You’re the assayer?
Dan: Nope. Ahh. I’m to take you to him.
Al: He’s one claim over. Nice fuckin’ guy and a dead eye for the fuckin’ color.
Dan: Ellsworth.
Al: Ellsworth, is absolutely right.
Dan: Well come on! (Seth turns his head for a moment, looks back at Al with raised eyebrows, turns
& they leave.)
---
(Back at the hardware store)

Alma: I was inoculated some time ago, but I thought she should be treated before our trip.
Doc: I am delighted you’re taking her with you.
Alma: It - it was Trixie (Sol looks over, ears perked) who made me realize my reasons for staying
weren’t sound.
Doc: Glad she succeeded where I failed.
Alma: I intend to write her a note of profound thanks. I hope that you’ll deliver it to her at Mr.
Swearengen’s saloon.
Doc: Is that where she went when she left you?
Alma: Yes. I—I certainly assume so.

(Doc sticks his tongue out at Sophia – er “the Metz Child” as it were, She laughs, he sticks her with the
vaccine, she frowns at him.)

Doc: Sorry, I’m sorry, honey. It’s all over. (To Alma) When will you be leaving? (Sol is still looking
at Alma, he looks away, then back)
Alma: As quickly as is practical.
Doc: Mr. Utter can see to your travel arrangements. Soon as he, gets his wits back, I’ll send him to
you.
Alma: Thank you doctor. Thank you for everything.

(They leave – Sol approaches Doc from behind as they both watch Alma leave)

Sol: What did she say about Trixie?


Doc: Nothin’.
---
(Jewel approaches Al in the Gem dining room with more coffee.)

Al: How’d you do with that bloodstain?


Jewel: I scrubbed it real hard.
Al: Did I ask you how hard you fuckin’ scrubbed it?
Jewel: No.
Al: No. I asked if you got it out. (Walking over to “the spot”) Get me the fuckin’ scrub brush.
(Muttering to himself) Every fuckin’ thing I gotta do myself, huh? (Louder) Where is she?
Jewel: Trixie?
Al: No Queen fuckin’ Victoria.
Jewel: (Pokes her head out of the back room) Last I saw her was yesterday when she came to see you.
Al: Just get me the fuckin’ scrub brush. (muttering again) Gives her word she’ll return. Where the
fuck is she, huh? (Jewel is back with the scrub brush and pail of water) What’d she say to you
when you saw her?
Jewel: She said her pussy hurt where you grabbed it.
Al: That has a ring of fuckin’ truth.
Jewel: She said you nearly killed her.
Al: She said to me she’d be right back. (Starts to scrub the stain) A fools fuckin’ errand anyway.
(Scrub scrub scrub) I found out what I needed to know when I looked in that cocksucker
Bullock’s eyes while Dority was spilling blood. That you have failed to adequately clean up.
Jewel: You want me to do some more?
Al: No, shut the fuck up. (Pauses the scrubbing) Now, what’s she doin’?? She makin’ a point? No
grabbin’ at the cunt? Is that what she said to you?
Jewel: No.
Al: I mean, y—you-- she told you, right, that I grabbed her. Did-did she have an attitude about it?
Jewel: She didn’t have an attitude she just said her pussy hurt.
Al: Agh. Point’s made with the snatch grabs, okay. (Scrub scrub scrub) 50 other fuckin’ things I
should be payin’ attention to, rosiest prospects of my career, (Johnny enters) and here I am on
my fuckin’ hands and knees discussing snippets of information with a fuckin’ gimp! There!
(Stands up, throws scrub brush in the pail) Now that’s how you scrub a fuckin’ blood stain.
Johnny: I couldn’t find Trixie. (Arms open, shoulders in a shrug)
Al: (To Jewel) You see her, you send her the fuck back to me. ‘Cause if I see her outside she’ll wish
I had fucking killed her before.
Johnny: That shot didn’t hurt too bad, Al. But it fuckin’ itches!
Al: Yeah? Good.
Johnny: You had your shot yet kid?
Miles: (Taking down chairs) Not yet. The line was too long and I did NOT want to be late for work.
Al: Open for business. And talk like him until further instructed.
Miles: (Hoarsely) Yes, sir.
(We see Jewel put away the pail)
---
(Doc enters his cabin – sees Trixie on the ground)
Doc: Aww, Jesus. Trixie? (Sees the needle and the bottle of laudanum on the ground next to her,
picks them up and puts them out of the way.) Goddamn it Trixie, wake up. Wake up. Trixie,
(Knocking on door) Trixie, wake up. (Knocking)
Merrick: Doc, Doc.
Doc: What?!
Merrick: Doc! (Enters)
Doc: Stay the fuck over there!
Merrick: It’s A.W., Doc.
Doc: Stay the fuck over there anyway.
Merrick: Aw, I don’t take your bad temper personally, Doc. The hours you’re working would try a
saint.
Doc: (Slowly) What do you want?
Merrick: I’m in pain, Doc. In the small of my back, which I’m aware is a precursor symptom.
(Doc is checking his eyes, feeling his forehead and turns him away so his back is to the wall)
Doc: When did the pain start?
Merrick: Am I warm?
Doc: Answer the question.
Merrick: Well, it’s become more concentrated and severe. (Doc slaps him) Why did you strike
me?
Doc: To secure your attention. When did the pain start?
Merrick: The original pain I’ve lived with for quite some time. But in this last period it’s become
much more concentrated and severe. In viewing the context of this outbreak, I knew I should
consult you, ow!
Doc: Well, you don’t have a fever.
Merrick: I don’t?
Doc: No. You put on weight?
Merrick: May I ask that query’s relevance?
Doc: It’s harder on your back as you get fatter. (Merrick considers this)
Merrick: So in concert with the symptoms I’m already exhibiting, you’d say be alert for fever?
(Doc pushing Merrick out)
Doc: And work hard on your paper, and get yourself inoculated.
Merrick: Uh-huh.
Doc: And try to eat less!

(Slams the door, pushes a chair under the knob to keep it secure. Walks back over to Trixie and lifts her
up into the crook of his arm, supporting her in a more upright sitting position-still on the floor)

Doc: You botched this job pretty good, didn’t you young lady? (Pinches her wrist – she squeezes her
face up in pain) Now, you listen to me, if you want, I will do the job for you right. But first, I want you
to know that that rich woman is leaving town and she told me that she would take you with her. And I
know that you thought enough of that woman to help her get off this – this stuff that you tried to use to
kill yourself with. But what I don’t know is – is if you wanted to die period, or ‘cus you thought you
didn’t have a way outta here ‘cus you DO (squeeze her hand) have a way out. (Trixie squeezes his
hand) Is that a vote for New York City? (She squeezes his hand again) Alright, then. (Squeezes her
hand, shaking).
---
(Flora wakes up, Joanie is still sleeping next to her. She takes Joanie’s hand off her and sits up. She
gets out of bed and starts to dress, a firm look on her face (the real Flora). Joanie opens her eyes and
sees the look on Flora’s face as she is dressing. Cy is coming down the stairs when he hears Flora
shut the door to Joanie’s room. He stops at the top of the stairs and looks at her…)

Flora: Morning, Mr. Tolliver.


Cy: Morning, Flora. I swear I saw you leave last night after your shift.
Flora: I come back. A man was murdered where my brother works, at the Gem saloon. And I got
scared.
Cy: You saw it, honey?
Flora: Yes, sir. I was there picking my brother up.
Cy: Well, you’re brave to even be in a joint like that. (Reaches out and pats – well, shakes, her arm
really, I guess as a comforting gesture. Joanie comes out of her room…) And after, sought
refuge with Joanie, did you?
Flora: Yes, sir.
Cy: No better port in a storm.
Flora: Anyways, I’ll go change.
Cy: Good girl. Good for you. (Flora starts downstairs, passing Cy) You settle in real good, Flora.
Flora: (Stops, turns to look back at Cy) Thank you, sir. (Continues on downstairs)
Cy: Mmm-mmm, Joanie Stubbs. Is that a fresh scalp I see hangin’ from your belt?
Joanie: She saw a gunning last night. She was upset. I held her.
Terrance: I was watching for you (Cy and Joanie look down) at the door, Flora, but here you are,
already inside.
Flora: Not working yet, Terrance.
Cy: Poor thing. Adjustin’ so smooth to losin’ her cherry and yet that upset by blood.
Joanie: She lost her cherry back home, Cy. I told you that.
Terrance: Gonna put your garters on now?

(Flora says nothing and enters the whore’s room. Terrance is left holding his hat, dejected. Once
inside, Flora pauses, turns, we see two whores sitting on a couch. One is rouging her nipples, the other
is busy eating.)

Flora: I’ll give you two dollars for that apple and a piece of cheese.

(The whore quickly stops eating, grabs the money)

Other Whore: It’s my knife. You wanna buy that?


Flora: I’ve got a fucking knife.

(The hungry whore hands her the apple and cheese. Flora turns and leaves, entering the main part of
the Bella Union. Joanie & Cy are still talking on the stairs.)

Flora: I’ll just be a second. And take my brother his lunch.


Cy: Sure, honey. (Flora smiles and leaves) Unless she ain’t upset at all.
---
(Out in the street, Flora stops to study the Bella Union’s exterior architecture, noting the balcony and
windows…)

Terrance: What happened now, Flora? I thought you was changin’ into your garters. (Terrance
tries to figure out what she’s looking at)
Flora: You geek-looking fuck. Get away from me before I cut your fucking heart out. (Terrance turns
and looks at Flora – surprised)
---
(In Alma’s room – she is packing. There’s a knock at the door…)

Doc: It’s Doctor Cochran.

(Alma heads to the door – gesturing to Sophia on the way. Sophia stands up and faces the door…)

Alma: (Opening the door) Doctor.


Doc: Trixie tried to commit suicide with laudanum.
Alma: My God. (Sophia turns and heads across the room)
Doc: She punctured her vein. (Sophia stops and turns) That’s the only reason why she’s still alive.

(They both turn and see Sophia watching. Alma smiles at her and closes one of the interior doors)

Alma: Who’s with her?


Doc: No one at the goddamn moment is with her, Mrs. Garrett. Her situation in this camp isn’t such
that that would be safe. Which is why, while trying to dissuade her from future efforts at
murdering herself, I told a fib, invoking your name. And willingness to take her with you on
your trip.
Alma: Last night, Doctor, I made that very offer to Trixie. She refused. (Doc looks at her –
momentarily stunned) More precisely, I offered to send Trixie to New York with the child to
make the appropriate introductions to my family, and to pay to see them established.

(Sophia crosses the room, the other half of the interior door is still open, she moves to watch…)

Doc: Is it possible, Mrs. Garrett, that leaving this camp and heading to New York City in—in service
to you and the child might, to a girl like Trixie, appear a more realistic proposition than being
dispatched on some cruel masquerade?
Alma: (Eyes downcast, she shakes her head, she look Doc in the eye…) Please tell her she’s welcome.
Tell her she’s necessary. If her indisposition doesn’t preclude it, I’d be happy to tell her myself.
Doc: Thank you, madam.

(Doc leaves – Alma sits down looking sad and lost, she looks up and sees Sophia watching her)
---
(At the claim, the men are negotiating the rocky terrain as they ascend. Bullock is in the lead with Dan
and Ellsworth trailing behind…)

Ellsworth: If I’m to get my throat cut, Dan, I’d rather not exert myself further. If I have any choice
in the matter, I’d prefer one behind the ear.
Dan: Keep climbing, Ellsworth. You’re off the hook for seein’ that New York dude’s accident.
Ellsworth: When Swearengen was moved to trust, I know you spoke for me hard.
Dan: Well, I didn’t – just didn’t speak against you. You might try takin’ a gander over to your right.
Ellsworth: You don’t have to tell me where to fuckin’ look.
Seth: If you’re the goddamn assayer, shouldn’t I be followin’ you?
(Dan smiles at Ellsworth)

Ellsworth: Head on back down, Mr. Bullock. We think we found a formation worth lookin’ at.

(Dan gestures excitedly for Seth to come see. Seth merely raises his eyebrows and looks up)
---
(Back at the Gem, Flora has just entered…)

Al: Young lady, thank Christ. I’d feared after the murder you’d shun us.
Flora: I come for lunch with Miles.
Al: Well, bless you then for bein’ a caring sister. Miles!
Miles: (Coming out from the back) Sir?
Al: Miles, you lucky sonofabitch. Your sister’s here with your lunch. She brought you a fresh apple
and some kind of delicacy wrapped in swaddling. (Miles nods, Flora looks down and sees she’s
standing on “the stain” and steps back) I’ve been scrubbing that bloodstain all mornin’, and the
cripple has, too. Miles situate your sister to spare her to stand at that fuckin’ stain, huh?

(Miles grabs Flora by the arm and leads her over to a table…)

Flora: Let’s do it.


Miles: Now?
Flora: Now, and get the fuck outta here.
Miles: What if—Flora, if we do it slow and right we’re 50 miles gone before anyone knows we blew.
Flora: My boss is onto me.
Miles: Savvy operator from Chicago and you could tell he’s onto you?
Flora: Savvy enough that he didn’t crack, and I still could fuckin’ tell.
Miles: (Pauses, looking at Al) You’re full of shit. You want to do it fast and dirty so you have to cut
somebody’s throat. This joint, you want to take?
Flora: (shakes her head) Where I work.
Miles: Where your boss is onto you?
Flora: I can move the dyke. Held me in her arms all night like I was a little fuckin’ kid.
Miles: Can I assume there’s a fuckin’ plan?

(Flora stabs a piece of apple with her knife and eats it off the blade, staring at Miles)
---
(Seth enters the hotel lobby)

EB: Mr. Bullock, what hold?


Seth: Mrs. Garrett’s room.
EB: Uh, number two.
(EB studies Seth as he walks up the stairs to Alma’s room. Seth knocks on the door, Alma opens it)

Seth: Don’t sell, Mrs. Garrett.

(Alma looks at him quizzically, he opens his saddle bag and she looks inside. She can’t speak, she holds
her index finger up indicating for Seth to wait a moment, she goes back inside to Sophia)

Alma: Darling…um, uh, I-I’m going to be unspeakably rude and leave you here alone for just a
moment, while I go downstairs with Mr. Bullock, who’s just arrived with the most interesting
news, and whom I—I can’t receive here in my room, particularly with you present, for reasons
too boring and complex to explain. So I’m going to go downstairs to speak with Mr. Bullock in
Mr. Farnum’s absurd restaurant. And then I’ll come back up and we will continue to ready our
leaving. Alright, darling? I’ll be in the restaurant for just one moment. Can I bring you a glass
of milk? (Sophia just looks at her) Alright. I-I’ll be right back.

(Alma leaves the room, she and Seth head downstairs…)

EB: May I enquire as to the assay’s outcome?


Seth: Ask the owner.
EB: Mrs. Garrett?
Alma: (Turns to Seth) Is the technical term “bonanza”?
Seth: That’s the look of it.
Alma: It’s a bonanza, Mr. Farnum.
EB: I see. Congratulations. Mmm-mm-mm (EB doesn’t look so good, a little sick)
---
(Sitting at a table in the restaurant…)

Seth: Does the find change your mind at all about New York City?
Alma: (hesitates) I can’t see why it would.
Seth: I can’t, either, but I don’t count.
Alma: Of course you count. Why wouldn’t you?
Seth: ‘Cause your changes of mind come so quick and often, I can’t keep up. I can’t understand what
changed your mind from yesterday when it was made up to stay.
Alma: I was made to understand last night that my reasons for wanting to stay have been completely
selfish.
Seth: By who?
Alma: Trixie. (Seth’s eyes gaze down) Uh-uh, I-I’d offered to send her to New York City with the child,
where Trixie, I’ve since come to realize, would be completely unsuited. And because I wished
to stay here unencumbered when I should be caring for the child.
Seth: Why can’t you care for her here?

(Their eyes meet…)


---
(At the Gem…)

Al: Where the fuck is he?


Dan: Said he was gonna go tell the widow of her find.
Al: How the fuck long does it take to tell her?
Dan: I don’t know, Al, I’m here with you. (Wiping his face with a towel)
Al: What, are you getting’ smart with me now?
Dan: No. (Wipes his neck off – shaking his head)
Al: Cocksucker Bullock. When you can’t stand the sight of him, he’s nowhere but underfoot.
Miles: Sir, my sister was told of a man who resembles our father’s photograph down by Lead. And I’d
be grateful if this afternoon I could go look and maybe I could take a night shift to make up.
Al: If I said no, I’d hope you’d walk out and go lookin’ anyway. Then seek a new job elsewhere
after.
Miles: That’s what I’d do, sir.
Al: Alright, kid. Go look for him. Tell Arnette at the livery stable I’ll stand metal for the horse.
Dan: If your sister looks with you, tell Arnette I’m good for her mount.

(Al looks at Dan, one eyebrow raised)

Miles: So you think it’s a good idea to go?


Al: It’s why the fuck you’re here, isn’t it?
Miles: Right. I’m gonna go get the horses then.
Al: Permission to leave the bar, trooper. (Al salutes, Miles salutes back)
Miles: Thanks to both of you.

(They both look at Miles quizzically, as Miles leaves, Seth enters…)

Al: Ah, struck rich for the widow, huh, Bullock? Free drink! (Al grabs a bottle and two shot glasses,
pours them, does a shot) Big, huh? (Seth drinks his) Rich and fucking thick, that vein is?
Seth: Not being expert, I can’t guess at the extent.
Al: Dan’s a fucking expert. When he’s not shit-faced drunk, so’s Ellsworth.
Seth: Well, the immediate result is she won’t be sellin’.
Al: Of course she fucking won’t. I should fucking think not, huh? Well, not for any 20,000 at least.
Come here, Bullock. Come drink with your vanquished foe. (Seth raises his eyebrows, grabs his
shot glass and follows Al to a table) Very good of you and Mr. Star, incidentally, to make your
venue available so the hoople-heads can get vaccinated.
Seth: I was the second hoople-head stuck.
Al: Them riders that brought the vaccine say the heathens have been called back to the agency. In a
spasm of good sense, they’re fuckin’ going.
Seth: I heard. (Holds his glass up to Al & drinks) Before you know it, we’ll have laws here and every
other fuckin’ thing.
Al: Yeah, which brings me, Bullock, to the matter of the widow. I wanted to show you my bona
fides for cooperation. If a treaty is signed, be wise for you and me to paddle in the same
directions. Tics or habits of behavior either finds dislikable in the other gotta be overlooked or
taken with a grain of salt.
Seth: Would your bona fides extend to Mrs. Garrett’s future safety?
Al: (Considers this remark – holds up his glass…) My oath is this: Every day that the widow sits on
her ass in New York City, looks west at sunset and thinks to herself, “God bless you ignorant
cocksuckers in Deadwood, who do strive mightily and at little money to add to my ever-
increasing fortune,” she’ll be safe in the wiles of Al Swearengen. (Drinks)
Seth: She’s stayin’.
Al: (pauses) The oath stands as a gesture to you.
Seth: Can I take a shave over here?
Al: Please. (Seth gets up and walks to the barber chair) Barney, be careful in the uh, area of the
throat, huh?
Seth: If you authorized an offer of 20 on the widow’s claim, your agent was looking to skim a little
cream.
Al: How high’d E.B. go?
Seth: 19,500.
Al: I wouldn’t trust a man that wouldn’t try to steal a little. (Smiles at Seth – turns around with a
look of rage on his face, stands up and goes to the bar) Where’s that fucking whore?
---
(Alma enters Doc’s cabin with Sophia…)

Alma: You stay here, sweetheart. (Sits Sophia down facing the entrance, walks over to the bed where
Trixie lays. She touches Trixie’s arm, Trixie stirs) I’m so very sorry for any part that I may have
played in this.
Trixie:I don’t remember you being the one that made me a whore, Mrs. Garrett.
Alma: I’m going to stay in the camp with the child, Trixie. Uh, Doctor Cochran explained to me the
difficulties your extraordinary kindness toward me has put you in, in relationship to Mr.
Swearengen. If you wish to stay, I’d be so grateful if you’d stay with us. (kneels down and
touches Trixie’s arm) But perhaps you want to go, Trixie. If you do…(reaches into her bag and
pulls out a hunk of gold) take this. (Puts it in Trixie’s hand) As your earnest claim on the future.
I’ll send you more. Uh, I appear to have struck it rich. (Sophia leaves her chair…) I’ll send you
all that you need.
Sophia: Trixie? (Trixie smiles) Trixie?
Trixie:Hello, sweetheart. Don’t I look tired?
Sophia: (Puts her hand on her chest) Sophia. (Both women are surprised, this is the first we’ve
heard her name. They look at Sophia with open mouths) Sophia.
Trixie:(smiles) Sophia. You’re so beautiful. I should’ve guessed it. Take her home, Mrs. Garrett.
Alma: (Stands – hesitates) How do you take my suggestion?
Trixie:Are you sure that gold’s real?
Alma: Absolutely.
Trixie:Uh, let me think things through.
Alma: Alright. (They leave, Trixie holds onto the gold)
---
(At the Bella Union, Miles is flirting with Elizabeth, he puts money in her cleavage…)

Miles: What’s your name?


Elizabeth: Elizabeth.
Flora: (Finds Joanie and approaches her) I’m quittin’.
Joanie: Alright, Flora.
Flora: I left a pin up in your room. I want to go look for it.
Joanie: Go ahead and look.
Cy: When does that part come when that little piece of trim finally gets into her fuckin’ workin’
clothes and starts makin’ us some fuckin’ money?

(Miles and Elizabeth head upstairs)

Joanie: She’s quitting, Cy.


Cy: She’s quitting? And that seems to be your room she’s walkin’ into yet again.
Joanie: She lost a pin…up there.
Cy: A pin!?

(Joanie sighs, heads upstairs. We see Miles & Elizabeth upstairs leaned up against a door, canoodling.
Inside Joanie’s room, Flora is going through her jewelry box…Joanie enters and catches her…)

Joanie: Can you tell the stones from the paste?


Flora: (Cuts Joanie a look) Show me which is which.
Joanie: I don’t think so.
Flora: Let me take it.
Joanie: Get outta here, Flora. Put down my things and I’ll let you get out without raising hell.
Flora: Why don’t you let me go with your things and shut your fucking mouth? Because I remind you
of whoever the fuck I remind you of.
Joanie: No. Now what are you gonna do, Flora, kill me?
Flora: (Reaches down and grabs the knife from her boot) Maybe.
Joanie: Do you think you’re gonna get out of here alive?
Flora: I’ll give it a goddamn whirl.
Joanie: You’re not gonna get out alive. You’re gonna die here.
Flora: Who am I? (Stepping towards Joanie, Joanie backs up with each step) Your little baby? Your
little sister? You? (Flora leaves)
---
(Cy watches Flora leave Joanie’s room, does a shot and puts his glass down…)

Cy: I wouldn’t move this.

(Gives “the office” to Eddie, Eddie nods and give “the office” to a man at the front door, Cy meets
Flora at the bottom of the stairs.)

Cy: Did you find your pin?


Flora: I did, sir.
Cy: Joanie tell me you’re leaving us.
Flora: Can’t take it anymore, sir. Decided I wasn’t cut out for it. My brother, too.
Cy: Decided he wasn’t cut out for what?
Flora: Sweepin’ up at the Gem saloon.
Cy: (laughs) I see. And my first take on your meaning was they were fuckin’ your brother for money
over there like you was gettin’ done to here. (laughs)
Flora: Step aside and let me do my business.
Cy: (Sees Joanie come out of her room) And what is your fuckin’ business? You with your beady
little ferret eyes.
Joanie: She came to say goodbye, Cy. She’s movin’ on.
Cy: It don’t feel right to me, babe. (Slaps Flora)
Flora: Agh! (Falls down – everyone stops what they’re doing)
Cy: But if I’m mistaken in my judgment, may I regret what I just did for the rest of my life. (Flora
grabs her knife)
Joanie: Now let her go!
Cy: (Looks up at Joanie – Flora stabs him in the leg) Agh! (Flora screams) You little cunt!

(Flora screams and starts running back upstairs, she runs past Joanie, who doesn’t move to stop her.)

Cy: You’re gonna die here!

(Miles comes out of Elizabeth’s room and runs to the balcony door, holding it open for Flora)

Miles: Come on!

(They run out to the balcony)

Cy: Get outta here! Get out! Get out front! Get around! They’re goin’ over the top!

(Miles jumps over the balcony, Flora throws her bonnet down to him)

Miles: Come on.

(Flora jumps down)

Cy: Don’t impede her progress, Joanie. Don’t do nothin’ rash.

(Flora and Miles run for the horses but the henchmen grab them, they struggle. Andy Cramed stands up
– seeing what’s happening. Doc comes out and stands next to Andy – concerned. The henchmen are
beating the two kids up. Jane marches out into the street. Cy comes out – his would wrapped. The
whores are all out in the street watching, too.)

Sol: What are you doing?!


Cy: What’s none of your business! Them two robbed my joint. That’s where they’re gonna be dealt
with.
Sol: I guess they needn’t get beat anymore out here.
Cy: Take ‘em the fuck inside, boys.

(The henchman beating Flora chuckles. Jane, Doc, Andy & Sol watch – concerned but not moving)

Cy: And you can help your delicate sensibilities by turning the fuck away.

(One henchmen slings Miles over his shoulder and carts him inside, the other drags Flora inside in a
headlock. Cy grabs Flora’s bonnet out of the mud and follows them in. Once inside, Joanie is sitting on
the stairs. Eddie comes out of her room and starts down the stairs…)
Eddie: Cy wants you up there, honey.

(Joanie, after a moment, stands up after a moment & follows Eddie up to her room…)

Cy: I tell you, sweetheart, your face come out of that in pretty good shape. Matters took a happy
turn, you could still probably work. (Door opens) Come on in, honey. Over here on what the
dagos call my sinister side. (gestures to his left) Although your beady little rat eyes don’t seem
like they’re takin’ in the view. (Flora is senseless, she can’t focus, all is hazy) You bust
somethin’ up there, sweetheart? (Cy starts hitting her on the head several times) Does that
fuckin’ hurt you?! (Eddie looks down) You fuckin’ understand me?! (Joanie looks away) See,
that upsets Joanie now. “Oh, Cy, do up the boy. My God, I can’t stand to see the other.” You
want me to see to the boy, Joanie? ‘Cause you know I’m clay in your hands.
Eddie: Cy.
Cy: What is it, Eddie? We could all be elsewhere?
Eddie: Nothing but true.
Cy: Are you awake, Miles? Don’t be fuckin’ passin’ out, youngster. (Miles’ head is lolling about,
his eyes shut) Next fuckin’ breath you draw, the smell of fuckin’ sulfur’s liable to be strong in
your nose. (poking his chin) Where is your fuckin’ nose, anyway? Fuck it, Miles! (Flora gazes
hazily at Joanie) You’re found fuckin’ guilty of bein’ a cunt. I’m hereby passin’ judgment for
you lettin’ this little bitch push you around and tellin’ you what to do. When you were supposed
to be a man and showin’ her the fuckin’ rules! (Slaps Miles) You hear me, Miles, and for bein’
the cunt you are now, before you could have been a man, (points gun at Miles) done your fuckin’
part, you little piece of shit. (Cy shoots Miles, Joanie tries to run away, Cy stops her…) I know
you don’t want out of here, Joanie.
Joanie: Don’t hurt her, Cy.
Cy: (Jerks Joanie closer to him) Don’t hurt her? You mean before I kill her?
Joanie: Yu-yes.
Cy: (Thrust Joanie away from him) Listen to that, Flora. That’s the person you robbed, had those
kind of (takes a necklace out of the bonnet) feelings for you. (Finds the knife in the bonnet and
holds it up tauntingly as Flora tries to focus on it) But I’m the one you stabbed. (Waves the knife
around.) See? (Flora tries grabbing for it) I think you’re fuckin’ skull’s broken, Flora. You’re
trying for the knife. It’s maybe a foot to your left. (Flora grasps) Ah, this is fuckin’ pitiful.
(Throws the knife aside, holds out a gun to Joanie) Why don’t you put that out of it’s misery?

(Joanie looks at Cy – grabs the gun – points it at gasping, groaning, senseless Flora – Flora looks at
her, Joanie cocks the gun, looks regretful, fires the gun)

Flora: Ugh!

(Joanie cocks the gun again and tries to put it to her temple, Cy grabs her in time)

Joanie: Ah!
Cy: Don’t do nothin’. Whatever you want to do will be a mistake. You keep drawin’ breath – right –
here. (Pokes her in the gut)
---
(At the Gem, Dan nods to Al, Al looks behind him and sees E.B. approaching. E.B. looks at Al, takes
his hat off, Al does a shot…)

Al: You did everything you could, E.B., to preserve our fuckin’ interests. I mean, you know,
sometimes the cards go cold.
EB: Far as the events at the Bella Union, by all accounts, it was two young thieves, a boy and a girl.
Al: We all know who they are.
EB: Who they are now is late night vittles for Wu’s pigs.
Dan: That young girl had me fooled.
Al: Your dick had you fooled. And in that state of addlement, you mistook her purpose, her so-
called fuckin’ brother’s and their entire fucking cockeyed story. (Does a shot) You did
everything you could, didn’t you, E.B.? I mean, you went to the limit on our offer.
EB: Everything humanly possible.
Al: You did go to the limit?
EB: Well, I went to the limit’s precipice.
Al: Sounds like you didn’t go to the limit.
EB: Al, I held back a few dollars. Against some final unforeseen turn.
Al: Well, so we’ll never know if them few dollars you held back wouldn’t have made us both
fucking rich.

(E.B. holds his stomach, grunts, he looks rather sick now. Al does a shot, looks at Dan…)

Al: I’m goin’ up. (Grabs a bottle) You find out how much Tolliver paid Wu. Don’t want to be
suckin’ hind tit on disposal fees.
---
(Outside, Joanie is standing on the Bella Union’s balcony. Cy comes around the corner of the balcony
and sees Joanie, he stands next to her…)

Cy: Don’t think I enjoyed that bullshit, Joanie. Certain things you…have to do to impress upon
people what you’re willing to do. Do you like it? No. Do you enjoy it? No. Do you have to
look like you do? Yes. I got Eddie in there. Gotta let him know. Capra’s downstairs gonna
hear about it. When people come to rob you, Joanie, you gotta get rough. It looks like an act,
it’s not gonna work. And then I grab your hand. And I think “My God, this poor fuckin’ girl.”
But I did what I had to do in that room. And now I’m out here. I’m telling you, your happiness
is important to me, and whatever the fuck I gotta do, if you’re too much in my shadow, if I make
things too tough on you, then we’re gonna stop it. We’re gonna do somethin’ else.
Joanie: Cy.
Cy: You bring warmth into my life. I can’t bear to see you unhappy like this. I want to set you up in
your own business here. Independent fuckin’ operator. I’ll put up the money. (Joanie shuts her
eyes) And kind of interest in return, that’s fine, but that ain’t what this is about. It’ll be your
place. I want you to feel when I walk in there that you can say, “I’m busy, Cy. Come back
later.” And I want you to watch me turn around when you say that like I’m some rube trick with
my chin down on the floor, “When should I try you again, Joanie?” “I’ll let you know, Cy.”
That’s how I want you to feel.
Joanie: I used to make you warm, didn’t I, Cy? And I could make you feel like something’s
funny.
Cy: You still do, honey. When you’re happy, you still do.
Joanie: Kill me to, Cy. Or let me go.
Cy: I understood myself to be sayin’, Joanie, I want to find a way to give you a looser fuckin’ rein.
Joanie: You’ve gotta figure out a way to mean it. And if you don’t kill me or let me go, I’m
gonna kill you.

(Their eyes meet – Cy looks down at Joanie’s hand, pats it, walks back inside. Joanie looks down into
the street and sees Trixie walking along, slowly. Alma looks out her window and also sees Trixie, she’s
heading back to the Gem. Doc is behind her on the street and also sees her walk back to the Gem.
Inside, Jewel is back scrubbing the floor.)

Trixie:Has he got you at your hands and knees at two in the fuckin’ morning?
Jewel: I got myself at my hands and knees, wondering what became of you.

(Trixie walks upstairs, Jewel stands up and watches her…)

Trixie:Wake up, David.


David: (David, chin propped on his hand, stirs from sleep) I’m up. (Starts wiping the bar, when he sees
Trixie is now upstairs, he leans his chin back on his hand and goes back to sleep)
---
(Alma walks over to Sophia, tucked in bed and ready for sleep, and starts to sing, hesitantly…)

Alma: ♪Row, row, row, row your boat♪


♪Gently down the stream♪
♪Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily♪
♪Life is but a dream♪
---
(Al is laying down in bed – the door opens and Trixie enters. She reaches in her bag and takes out the
gold hunk, sets it on his bedside table. He sees her arm and grabs her hand, forcing her to face him.
He’s looking in her eyes, sternly; he forces her hand off of her elbow, exposing her wounds. He looks at
her with the realization of what she’s done to herself, or tried to do. She reaches out and slaps him. He
looks at her, she starts to undress, as she rounds the bed, he pulls down the covers for her. She climbs
into bed, naked, and lays down with her back to him.)

Timothy Olyphant Seth Bullock


Ian McShane Al Swearengen
Molly Parker Alma Garret
Jim Beaver Ellsworth
Brad Dourif Doc Cochran
John Hawkes Sol Star
Paula Malcomson Trixie
Leon Rippy Tom Nuttall
William Eustis Baily (E.B.) Farnum
Sanderson
Robin Weigert Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown Dan Dority
Dayton Callie Charlie Utter
Kristen Bell Flora Anderson
Powers Boothe Cy Tolliver
Sean Bridgers Johnny Burns
Greg Cipes Miles Anderson
Kim Dickens Joanie Stubbs
Zach Grenier Andy Cramed
Ricky Jay Eddie Sawyer
Geri Jewell Jewel
Jeffrey Jones A.W. Merrick
W. Scott Mason
Ray McKinnon Reverend H.W. Smith (as Raymond McKinnon)
David Nelson David
Bethalyn Staples
Monty Stuart
Bree Seanna Wall Metz Girl
Jim Cody Williams Terrence

Publicity images & episode content © 2004 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved. HBO and
Deadwood are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2004 Cristi H. Brockway. The
copyright claimed by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her personal contribution of material not
contained in the episode from which this transcript was compiled. Any commercial use of this transcript
is expressly prohibited.
Episode #9 “No Other Sons or Daughters”
(In Al’s bedroom, Al is sitting on the edge of the bed pondering the lump of gold Trixie plunked
down on his bedside table the night before. Trixie is asleep next to him. He gazes over at her,
slams down the gold on the bedside table – startling her awake.)

Al: Her majesty awakes, huh? (Walks over to the chamber pot and commences pissing)
Cocksucker’s gonna grace us with his fuckin’ presence this mornin’. Fuckin’ Magistrate
Claggett will impart to me the attitude toward the settlement of him and his fellow lying
fucking thieves of the territorial legislature at Yankton. (Finishes his pissing and
proceeds to dress.) How fuckin’ much is it gonna cost us to get annexed when to get
annexed when they sign a treaty with the fuckin’ dirt worshippers, huh? How hard is the
legislature gonna squeeze our balls with regard to our title and properties, huh? I don’t
want to talk to these cocksuckers, but you have to, in life, you have to do a lot of things
you don’t fuckin’ want to do. Many times, that’s what the fuck life is, one vile fucking
task after another. But don’t get aggravated. Then the enemy has you by the short hair.
It’ll be different after the annexation. That’s all. There’s nothin’ to be afraid of.
Everything changes. Don’t be afraid. (walks to the window, points down at the gold) I
can hope those’ll be appearing on a regular basis.

Trixie: No.
Al: No? (Looks out window, hands in his pockets.) How’s your arm?
Trixie:It’s alright. (She smiles that subtle smile of hers)
Al: Don’t fucking try it, doin’ away with yourself again, huh?

(Al walks away from the window into his office, Trixie raises herself up onto her elbows and
watches him leave, with that same subtly pleased smile on her face.)

---
(Seth & Ellsworth are heading to the restaurant, as they pass it’s window we see Alma serving
Sophia her breakfast as Sophia is watching them through the window. The men enter the
restaurant and as they approach the table, Sophia is playing with her bacon.)

Alma: Good morning, gentlemen.


Seth: This is Ellsworth, who found the gold on your claim.
Alma: How do you do, Mr. Ellsworth?
Ellsworth: Pleasure.
Alma: And this is Sophia.
Ellsworth: Pleasure, Sophia. (Seth is smiling at Sophia during this exchange – see! Not the
first time! It’s not unSethian to smile at the child!)
Alma: I’m grateful for your expertise and keen eyesight.
Ellsworth: Luck’s what you want to congratulate me on, Mrs. Garrett.
Seth: Until you decide how you want to develop it, Ellsworth can spend time enough at wages
on your claim to sustain your ownership.
Alma: I’m not as if I understand what you just said. (Smiling)
Seth: He’ll explain it all to you.
Alma: Might we have a word, Mr. Bullock? (They walk to the archway) I’m certain Mr.
Ellsworth’s are very capable hands, but I hope you’re not disassociating yourself from
my affairs.
Seth: I already got my impression of this fellow, Mrs. Garrett. This meeting’s how you form
yours.
Alma: I see.
Seth: Then we compare notes and decide how you proceed.
Alma: Fine.
Seth: Toward a future point when you tell me my thinkin’s so consistently wrongheaded it’s a
waste of your valuable time having to deal with me. (Alma smiles at this.)
Alma: In any case, I know you have many claims on your attention.
Seth: A couple.
Alma: Thank you very much.
Seth: I’d lean more on what I felt about this fellow than what I saw.

(Touches the brim of his hat and exits through the hotel entrance. We see the red-headed pants
shitter enter at the same time.)

EB: Late as usual.


Shit: I just comes from the creek, Mr. Farnum. Washin’ my pants.
EB: A habit to cultivate.
Shit: And under a rock down there, I found other pants of mine that I thought I’d lost. But
seein’ as I gets drunk and, on occasion shits myself, I figured that must be how I lost ‘em
in the first place.
EB: I imagine you makin’ your way from the creek rolling into the lobby when all others are
abed, bare ass naked with shit streamin’ down your legs.
Shit: Sir, no. It must have been the night that Mr. Hickok was killed. Now I recall that Mr.
Hickok, he gives unto me like a letter for me to put in the post, but what with all the
hullabaloo” and me getting’ drunk, I forgot about the whole ting. Uh, until I found my
pants. (Pulls out the letter)
EB: Do you think I’m gonna touch that?
Shit: No, uh, I didn’t get my pants wet, eh, and nor did I soil the letter when soiled myself,
hey. That’s the miracle of it, sir.
EB: So I’m to believe that’s a letter written by Wild Bill Hickok just before his murder by the
coward McCall?
Shit: Just minutes before, sir.
EB: Addressed to whom?
Shit: His wife, sir.
EB: Well I only hope you haven’t opened it.
Shit: No, sir.
EB: Well at least that eliminates tampering from the list.
Shit: Of what, sir?
EB: Crimes, in which your inebriation and sloth as my employee has implicated my hotel,
which I will attempt to shield you from in the course of trying to extricate myself.
Shit: I didn’t mean to extricate you, sir. I uh, I—I didn’t –
EB: Just give me the confounded letter. (Shit hangs his head in shame) And none of this
hangdog look.
Shit: Sir.
EB: Not a word of this to anyone.
Shit: Yes, sir.

(The shitter walks off to the restaurant and as he passes the hotel entrance we see Charlie Utter
enter.)

EB: Mr. Utter. Hearty congratulations on your new venture.


Utter: Take a while to find out if those are what’s in order. (Looks at the floor and back up,
approaches EB) Bein’ this is the first day of my enterprise, I wore this frock coat.
EB: Very flattering.
Utter: You don’t think it looks stupid?
EB: Not to me, no.
---
(Back in the restaurant, Alma and Utter are conversing while Sophia looks on.)

Ellsworth: Mr. Dority, all of a sudden stumbled, and in – in grabbin’ at scrub to steady him, I
saw a color beneath. (Sophia plays peek-a-boo with Ellsworth, Ellsworth takes his hands
away from his eyes and laughs) Ain’t you a little doll.
Alma: She’s formed an instant attachment.
Ellsworth: Well, anyways, I’m glad to keep your title good workin’ the surface, but the
quartz outcrop we found, you’re not gonna know how rich your strike is until you sink
some shafts. Now, I ain’t expert prospectin’ that way. I’m a man who works in creeks.
Alma: Thank you for telling me so.
Ellsworth: Not bein’ impertinent, your people gonna help you with this?
Alma: My brother and my father are aware of my situation and my husband’s parents. I have no
idea as to the prospect of their involvement.
Ellsworth: Well, blood don’t always prove loyalty, but you’re gonna need some people on
your side, Mrs. Garrett, ‘cause I believe you got a big one on your hands.
Alma: I believe Mr. Bullock’s on my side.
Ellsworth: No question about that.
Alma: And I believe you are, tool. (Ellsworth Smiles bashfully)
Utter: Excuse me. I was among them found that little girl. I’m glad to see her doin’ well.
Alma: I’m Alma Garrett.
Utter: How do you do?
Ellsworth: Ellsworth. (Standing up, shakes Utter’s hand)
Utter: Charlie Utter.
---
(Al’s office, Al is looking out the window at the sign for “Utter Freight and Postal Delivery
Service, there is a knocking at the door.)

Al: Come in.


Johnny: Yes, sir.
Al: You see this? “Utter Freight and Postal Delivery Service.” That’s what happens when
you drop a fucking stitch.
Johnny: What stitch did I drop?
Al: I did. This freight and delivery service should’ve been opened by Persimmon Phil as a
cover for his other fuckin’ activities.
Johnny: He’s dead.
Al: I know he’s dead now.
Johnny: Well, if you don’t know, nobody does.
Al: I should have brought in a replacement, is my fucking point.
Johnny: Well, you’ll know better next time.
Al: The direction of my thoughts – with the sustained fucking stupidity that you’re
exhibiting, I hesitate to voice them. Is that you might want to train for Phil’s former
position.
Johnny: Al…I have hoped for this conversation ever since you give me that Indian head to
hide. (Proud, determined look on his face.)

(Al just looks at Johhny, walks past him, not taking his eyes off of him – blinking A LOT – smiles,
nods his head and leaves Johnny standing in his office. Johnny is all proud and excited.)

---
(Downstairs, Dan is shaving, Al comes down the stairs.)

Dan: How’d it go with Johnny?


Al: I have just fled my own office in horror at his fucking dimwittedness.
Dan: (Smiles and chuckles.) Well, Persimmon Phil wasn’t no genius.
Al: I know.
Dan: And Johnny, so eager.
Al: I know. Was it not my fuckin’ idea to ask him? As a minimal standard eager, he’ll be in
the wilderness. You gotta be able to sustain a thought. You gotta be able to remember
fucking instructions.

(Magistrate Claggett enters the Gem.)

Dan: His honor.


Al: Oh, yeah. Hold fast your valuables.
Johnny: (Coming down the stairs) Hey, Al. Any reason I can’t share with Dan the uh,
proceedings of the talk me and you just had about me uh, takin’ over for Persimmon
Phil?
Al: Yeah, keep Dan in the dark.

(Johnny looks at Al, crestfallen)

Dan: Hey, Johnny.


Johnny: Dan.
Dan: What’s new?
(Johnny looks down quickly. Meanwhile, Magistrate Claggett sit down at a table and Al is
standing up on the other side of the table.)

Al: I want to know how the camp stands with the legislature. And don’t give me the um, “on
the one hand and on the other hand,” hmm?
Magistrate Clagett: Alright.
Al: Just say, “This is the way I think it’s gonna be,” ‘cause this “several hands” fuckin’ shit
don’t help me, huh?
Magistrate Clagett: I’ll boil things down.
Al: Go ahead.
Magistrate Clagett: Well, let’s assume for the sake of conversation that there’s a new treaty
with the Sioux peoples.
Al: “People,” that’s what we’re callin’ those cocksuckers now? Now, that’s the way things
are headed?
Magistrate Clagett: Assuming the new treaty, the hills will be annexed. The territory respects
the statutes of the Northwest Ordinance, which state that a citizen can have title to any
land unclaimed or unincorporated by simple usage. Essentially, if you’re on it and you
improve it, you own it. But, what complicates the situations is that the hills were deeded
to the Sioux by the 1868 Fort Laramie Treaty. This could mean that the land occupied by
the camp doesn’t fall under any statutory definition of unclaimed or unincorporated.
Al: So who needs to get paid?
Magistrate Clagett: Signs of conciliation and willingness would weight in the camp’s favor,
but just as important is the presence of a Ad Hoc municipal organization that would
enable the legislature to say Deadwood exists, we don’t have to create it. It would be
disruptive if we did. The community’s already organized, not legally, maybe, but
certainly informally. Why not let’s give this informal organization the blessing of legal
standing?
Al: What’s the right fucking number for the legislature?
Magistrate Clagett: There’s a lot of gold out here, Al. To define “right” in this environment is
very liable to be an ongoing process. What I’m prepared to do is make a list of names and
preliminary guess at some numbers. (Clagett moves his inkpot over to his right side, dips
his quill and proceeds to write his list.) I should tell you as well that a warrant’s reached
Yankton charging you with murder in Chicago, Illinois. As the settlement’s status
changes, you want to address that. I could help with that, too.
Al: How much is that gonna cost me?
Magistrate Clagett: $5,000. If you don’t mind, I’ll continue writing.

(Al sits back in his chair, eyes smoldering.)

---
(The Reverend approaches the pest tent, limping slightly)

Rev: Good morning, Miss Jane.


Jane: (Ripping clothes for bandages with her teeth) Yeah, hello. No one’s croaked today.
Tommy’s took fuckin’ sick and the Doc’ll be back I guess whenever he fuckin’ feels like
it. I see your fuckin’ eyes are still playin’ tug o’ war.
Rev: Well, um, (pointing to HIS right eye) this is the one to look at.
Jane: Uh, left arm still useful as an old man’s dick?
Rev: Do I smell strangely to you, Miss Jane?
Jane: What?
Rev: Do I have a strange odor about me?
Jane: What is that, your clever way of saying you smell whiskey on my breath?
Rev: No.
Jane: If either of your fuckin’ eyes takes me for hidin’ I’m drinkin’ again, occasionally, it’s
sadly mistaken. So desist from any clever odor references.
Rev: I thought the smell might be coming off the creek, so I went into the hills last night, but it
followed me there, too. As if my, uh, as if my – my flesh were rotting. I, uh…do I looks
like a man taken from his own grave?
Jane: Goddamn you, Preacher, don’t start talkin’ crazy to go with everything else.
Rev: Uh, also, when I read the—the scriptures, I do not feel Christ’s love as I used to.
Jane: Oh, is that so? That is too bad. Join the fucking club of the most of us. Let me tell you
somethin’, Preacher. I see you skulkin’ around when the Doc comes in. You’re tryin’ to
hide your fuckin’ eyes, tryin’ to hide your fuckin’ arm. You’re a fuckin’ mess. (Shakes
the Rev’s shoulders) And I am in the process of wearin’ out my own fuckin’ welcome in
this camp, and I wouldn’t expect to be around here much longer for people to be
disgusted by so they don’t notice what the fuck is goin’ on with you! And you need to
(grabs his head) think about some of these things and raise your nerve to consult with the
Doc!

(Jane walks away from the Rev, he smiles but looks confused. He turns and puts his bible down
and attempts to lift the water basin, spilling some of it.)

Jane: Oh, Goddamn you! Spillin’ my cleanin’ water too, Minister! (She wrenches the basin
from him and shoves him onto the ground just outside the tent. She looks at him,
frustrated, then helps him up from the ground). Oh. Oh.
Rev: Thank you, I’m fine.
Jane: You’re fine. I am off duty. You’re on duty. (Slaps his shoulder) You can go fuck
yourself!

(The Rev looks at her and smiles as she’s leaving. We see Jane leave the pest tent, she pauses
and pulls a bottle of whiskey out of her coat pocket, takes a pull off the bottle, and proceeds to
walk away.)

---
(EB is studying the letter from Wild Bill with a magnifying glass. He turns the letter over and is
about to open it with a letter opener – we see Al approaching, coffee in hand – EB sees him and
immediately puts the letter down and the letter opener under his armpit.)

EB: Al, what are you doin’ out?


Al: Clearing my head. And if I bleet when I speak that’s because I just got fuckin’ fleeced.
EB: What’s goin’ on?
Al: Be in my joint in two hours. We’re forming a fucking government.
EB: Yes, sir.

(Al leaves, stands on the porch of the hotel for a moment, looks left, then right, sees Merrick’s
newsstand and heads for Merrick’s office door. He tries to open the door, it’s locked.)

Al: Merrick! ( Knees it in an attempt to open it, shattered glass from the doors window
falls.) Jesus Christ! Hey Merrick! (Wiping off the main window, trying to peer inside –
he turns around and proceeds back across the porch of the hotel). Cocksucker.
---
(Hardware store, Sol is measuring gold dust out onto a scale.)

Guy: Shoot.
Sol: Thank you, sir. (Hands the bag of gold dust to the man.)
Guy: Uh-huh.
Sol: Good luck out there. (Man leaves)
Seth: I believe it’s time to send for my wife and boy. (Sol looks at him, surprised) Treaty
comin’ with the Sioux.
Al: (Shouting as he enters the hardware store) Where the fuck is Merrick, huh?
Seth: We don’t know.
Al: Well, anyways, this is it. What we spoke about before, this puts it to the test.
Seth: Alright.
Al: Informal municipal organization. Not government. No, that would mark us rebellious.
But structure enough to persuade those territorial cocksuckers in Yankton that we’re
worthy enough to pay them their fucking bribes.
Sol: Uh, we’re to meet to discuss putting this organization together, is that what you’re
saying?
Al: (Looks at Seth, Points to Sol…) Centuries of fucking inbreeding attune him to the
necessities of the times. (Sol laughs) Two hours, my place! (Turns around and starts to
leave, pauses) Did a fucking good job here. (Raises his coffee cup to them in a sort of
toast, and leaves.)
---
(Bella Union, Eddie is shuffling cards, Joanie comes downstairs and pours herself some coffee
from the urn sitting on his table.)

Eddie: You’re room’s put back together.


Joanie: That ain’t my room anymore. (She sits)
Eddie: Cy needn’t a done for them kids that way. Not in your room, not in the way he did for
them.
Joanie: I’m getting’ outta here, Eddie.
Eddie: Are ya?
Joanie: I’m going to open my own place.
Eddie: Good for you, honey. Have you saved money?
Joanie: I got a way to work it.
Eddie: I know you’ll get a long way away from here first.
Joanie: You think I have to? (Puts her cup down, places her fingertips on the table
nervously) Cy told me he’d help me open a place here. He promised he’d keep his
distance.
Eddie: Good.
Al: Is he around? (Strides into the Bella Union)
Eddie: Asleep.
Al: There’s a meetin’ at my place in a couple of hours he’ll want to be awake for, all the
pillars of the fuckin’ camp. (Points to coffee urn) You mind? (Joanie shakes her head –
Al turns to Eddie) You could use some rest.
Eddie: I could use a clean conscience.
Al: So could we all.

(Joanie looks down at the table, Al leaves the Bella Union, stepping out into the street he takes a
sip of the coffee)

Al: Blech! (Spitting out the coffee and dumping the rest on the ground) Where the fuck have
you been?!
Merrick: As you see.
Al: As I see what?
Merrick: At my storage cabinet replenishing needed supplies.
Al: Be over in a couple of hours. We gotta form a government for the settlement.
Merrick: Who does?
Al: Us! You and me. Come to me in a vision! You stupid bastard.

(Al walks into the Gem, Merrick’s assistant looks at him and Merrick smiles bemusedly)

---
Joanie: (Sipping her coffee) Anyways, I’m goin’ to look for a place.

(Joanie gets up from the table, Eddie watches her leave the Bella Union, sad look on his face.)

Cy: Eddie. (Calling down from Upstairs balcony)


Eddie: Swearengen’s called a meeting. Two hours.
Cy: (Descending stairs) Where’s Joanie?
Eddie: Out lookin’ for a place.
Cy: Good. ‘Cause I told Joanie I’d back her in havin’ her own joint.
Eddie: That’s what she said.
Cy: Something on your mind, Eddie?
Eddie: You fucked me up, Cy. The shit you did to those kids, there’s no angle to it.
Cy: That shit wasn’t just about those kids, Eddie. And you need to sit there and tough your
way through your problem. Just keep shufflin’ your cards and let your tie hand down ‘til
you feel better.
Eddie: I want to come to that meeting.
Cy: Do ya? Come ahead, Eddie. Put the cards down, tighten your cravat and come on if it’ll
cheer you the fuck up.
---
(Joanie is walking through Mr. Wu’s alley. She passes by Wu as he comes out to survey his \
territory. They look at each other as she passes. She continues on but Wu’s eyes never leave
her. She stops at the pig pen. We hear the pigs squealing. She sees Flora’s clothes clumped up
in the corner of the pigpen and looks back at Wu. He is still watching her. She looks back to the
pigs and turns away in slight disgust. She takes a deep settling breath and proceeds through the
alley through throngs of chattering people. We see her step across a makeshift bridge across a
deep puddle and when she steps off the end of the bridge, she foot goes deep into the puddle. She
continues on, heading towards Utter Freight.)

Utter: Mornin’.
Joanie: Good Morning. (She starts to head away)
Utter: I’m opening this business.
Joanie: (Stops, turns around and looks up at his sign.) Well, good luck.
Utter: Thank you. I’m Charlie Utter.
Joanie: I’m Joanie Stubbs.
Utter: How do you do?
Joanie: How do you do, Charlie? Ooh, I was out of breath, but now I’m better.
Utter: Are you off someplace? Uh, you need a escort or the like?
Joanie: No, I’m more or less just walkin’ around.
Utter: What do you think of this frock coat?
Joanie: (She steps a little closer) Very well fitted.
Utter: I had it made up in Cheyenne. I’m one for a good appearance and all, but it’s a little out
of my path.
Joanie: If you would have made me guess, I would have said it’s not your usual garb.
Utter: And I’m a considerable hand at the freight business, but far as leasin’ this buildin’ before
knowin’ what the traffic’s gonna bear, I don’t know what possessed me. See, I—I do
well in a camp or a settlement or a township, but that don’t make me a camp or a
settlement or a township type. This is the attire for that type…of type.
Joanie: Anyway, you’re wearing it today.
Utter: You’re right. I’m sorry for runnin’ on about it.
Joanie: I’m looking for a piece of property to start a business on. That’s what I’m doin’
out.
Utter: I see. And what sort of business you lookin’ to operate?
Joanie: Brothel.
Utter: Uh-huh. Well, uh, I’ll tell you what, this camp here, it seems like it’s got some legs
under it.
Joanie: I’m just a whore, though. I mean, I run the whore for this man, but far as bein’
ready to run a place and stand up to all you have to stand up to, I—I don’t know what go
into me.
Utter: I tell you what, (steps a little closer), something’s ready for you to do somethin’, don’t
seem to matter if you’re ready or not.
Joanie: Better lift you skirts and…jump, huh?
Utter: That’s what’s comin’ to me to be true.
Joanie: I’m surprised you’re not at that big town meeting.
Utter: Uh, yeah, well, um, I’m uh, I’m headin’ over there shortly. Uh, I prefer to appear late to
that type of thing.
Joanie: Bella Union, where I work, is bigger, but I guess bein’ that it’s Mr. Swearengen’s
meeting, that’s why they’re having it at the Gem.
Utter: Yeah, that’s – that’s why it’s located there.
Joanie: Yeah. It’s awful nice to meet you, Charlie.
Utter: Well, it’s good to meet you, too, Joanie. (Tips his hat to her, she walks on) Take care.
---
(Doc’s at the pest tent fastening the straps on his medical case. To his right, behind a mesh
drape, the Rev is having another seizure. The Doc starts to leave and walks right past him and
pauses.)

Doc: I’m goin’ to the Gem.

(The Doc leaves, the Rev is still sitting on a cot, leaned up against a post, having a mild seizure.
We see the Doc walking down Mr. Wu’s alley, he passes Jane who is standing up, leaning with
her forehead against a wall, napping. He stops and takes a closer look at her, looks away and
back again.)

Doc: I’m headin’ for the Gem.


Jane: Hooray for you.
Doc: Reverend is laid down tryin’ to hide another seizure.
Jane: Ain’t you Clever to see through the subterfuge.
Doc: (A tear runs down the side of his nose) I been lettin’ it go, but if the idea is for you to
drink more and more ‘til I say somethin’, I am hereby officially sayin’ I wish you would
stop fuckin’ drinkin’.
Jane: I have no fuckin’ idea (Jane pulls away from the wall abruptly) as far as you sayin’ one
fuckin’ thing about anything I do or don’t, far as drinking or where I stand and nap or any
other fuckin’ thing concernin’ me.
Doc: I see.

(We see Charlie start to pass the alley way and stop to observe the exchange. He has a myriad
of emotions on his face; sadness, upset, and humor.)

Jane: To go or leave, don’t or when


Doc: Alright, Jane.
Jane: So you can go fuck yourself. And don’t try and hasten anyone anywhere, ‘cause
everyone follows their own fuckin’ pace, and don’t try and fuckin’ hasten them. (points
her finger at the Doc.) And you happen to be fuckin’ overlookin’ that you think it’s just
one day after another with the same fuckin’ seizure as if it happened the week before.
And that just shows you how much you fuckin’ know. And what you pay attention to.
Goddamn you!

(Jane slams her forehead against the wall and resumes her former position. The Doc lowers his
head, almost as if he is ashamed. Charlie is still looking on. The Doc walks away and proceeds
to the Gem. Charlie approaches Jane, casually.)

Utter: What do they pay you to hold that buildin’ up?


Jane: Charlie Utter of “Utter Charlie and Freight.”
Utter: Close enough to get you offered a position.
Jane: I’m in a position, you eternally meddling cocksucker.
Utter: Yeah, leaning forward, shit-faced drunk.
Jane: I am talking about nurse of the plague, fucking tent operation. Caring of the sick in the
fuckin’ tent!
Utter: How about bullwhacker of the fuckin’ freight between Deadwood and Cheyenne?
Jane: No.
Utter: How about supervisor, mail delivery?
Jane: Go away, Charlie.
Utter: Or any fuckin’ thing else you want to do.
Jane: Go Away! Congratulations on bein’ a big fuckin’ deal.
Utter: No one’s any big fuckin’ deal, Jane. And all them offers stand.
Jane: I seen you in some stupid fuckin’ outfits in my time, but that one takes the prize.

(Charlie walks away, shaking his head.)

---
(Doc is in the whore’s room, checking up on their health.)

Doc: I think that this month, we’re gonna try raspberry leaf.
Whore: Thanks, Doc.
Doc: Young lady, anything to report with your privates?
Trixie:(smoking a cigarette) Nah.
Doc: (Pulls up Trixie’s sleeve to check her arm) Oh, Uh—(gets up to go to his bag, Al walks
in)
Al: Meetin’ outside when you’re done, Doc.
Doc: Alright. (Al leaves – Doc dabs some ointment on Trixie’s arm. Replaces the lid and puts
it in her hand, he squeezes her hand as he gets up.)
Trixie:Thanks, Doc.
Doc: In a case like yours I wouldn’t know what else to prescribe. (He lets go of her hand and
gets his case together, leaves the room.)

---
(Downstairs, Johnny is setting out pears & peaches on the tables, now pushed together in
preparation for the meeting. Doc is sitting on the stairs, E.B. and Eddie are standing off to the
side, idling, waiting for something to happen. Seth and Sol walk in, take a seat, we see Merrick
and Cy talking.)

Al: Whose idea was them pears and fuckin’ peaches?


Johnny: I figured since we had ‘em for the plague meetin’.

( Merrick and Cy take a seat, Eddie sitting off to the side behind Cy. EB and the Doc join soon
after.)
Al: Shows good thinkin’ and initiative. Ladle ‘em out at various intervals on the fuckin’
table, Johnny.
Johnny: Yes, sir.
Al: I’m declaring myself conductor of this meeting as I have the bribe sheet.

(Tom Nuttall walks in, stops at the end of the table.)

Nuttall: If I’m excluded, say so, Al. Don’t leave me to die the death of a thousand cuts.
Al: Well, sit down, Tom.
Nuttall: Don’t subject me to death by water torture.
Al: Take a seat Tom, and toss whatever book you’ve been readin’ on the fuckin’ yellow peril,
huh?

(Nuttall sits down, to EB’s right. Charlie Utter walks in.)

Utter: I just opened across the way. Was I supposed to attend?


Al: Well, before I can answer that question, I better know who the fuck you are.
Utter: Charlie Utter.
Merrick: Of “Utter’s Freight and Postal Delivery Service.”
Al: Nice sign blocking my fucking view. Take a seat.
Merrick: Had a lovely advert in today’s “Pioneer.”
Al: So, U.S. Government’s negotiating peace with Spotted Elk, Red Cloud and other leaders
of the heathens. (Johnny places some peaches down in front of Al.) Thank you, Johnny.
The heathens will get money to give up the hills and the hills’ll be annexed to the
territory. (Sol looks over and sees Trixie observing things, the other whores begin to join
her.) Cost to avoid getting fucked in the ass by those legislative cocksuckers was just
handed to me by Yankton’s toll collector, who suggests also our best case in keeping title
to the claims, property and businesses is to start up now, a kind of an informal governing
organization that will be recognized by the territorial cocksuckers and given legal status
when the territory is annexed, since we’ll all have proved ourselves civilized sorts that
don’t only wear our pants to cover our tails. Hence the fuckin’ meeting.
EB: (To Nuttall) Do the bribes come out of our pockets?
Al: (To Cy) Hmm?
Cy: The hell you must have gone through talking to that leech, Al. Hereafter, you let me take
my fair share of the weight in those conversations.
Al: Yeah, thanks, Cy.
EB: Well, couldn’t our informal organization levy taxes on the settlement to pay the bribes,
say to license businesses? Wouldn’t that spread the burden?
Eddie: Will women who pay the license fees have the same tight to operate brothels as me?

(Al and Cy both look at Eddie. Trixie crosses her arms and smirks.)

Nuttall: (To EB) What’s that got to do with the price of fish?
Al: Our proper order of business is to make titles and departments before the territorial
cocksuckers send in their cousins to rob and steal from us.
EB: Well, who fills the various positions?
Al: Pick the names from a fuckin’ hat as far as I’m concerned. (Points to Cy’s top hat sitting
on the table.)
EB: I’d like to be mayor. (Nuttall smiles.)
Al: Objections? (Merrick starts to open his mouth – Al pounds the table with his fist, gavel-
like – points to EB) Mayor. (Everyone has frozen looks on their face. Did that just
happen?)
Seth: Wouldn’t a good use for an informal government with temporary appointees be providing
a few services to the camp?
Al: Mayor?
EB: Well, provide a few services and use the lion’s share of revenues to pay the bribes. (Dan
strides in and approaches Al). More than providing services to ‘em, taking peoples
money is what makes organizations real, be they formal, informal or temporary.
Dan: (talking low in Al’s ear) There’s a piano outside. (Al looks up at him like, “What the fuck
did you just say?) Piano? (Remember?) Uh, well, when Tolliver opened up across the
way, you said we needed a fancier piano. You ordered one.
Al: You want me to abandon the fucking meeting to bring in a new piano?
Dan: Well, I’m just telling you it come in from Montgomery Ward.
Al: Yeah.
Dan: “Any big arrival, notify me immediately” you said that.
Al: Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Dan: Well, um---
EB: Floors open for levy suggestions and nominations for department heads. Self-
nominations are permitted.

(EB bangs a tin on the table (ashtray?) as a gavel, sending up clouds of dust into Nuttall’s face)

EB: Sorry. We lack a gavel. Doc?


Doc: Who’s gonna be comptroller?
Merrick: Well, um, elections? W-will we have some elections somewhere down the road?
This is temporary, right?
EB: Yeah, ad hoc.
Merrick: Ad hoc. Ad h—
Al: Ad fucking hoc. So free fucking gratis. Can we just get on with the fucking meeting?
---
(Nighttime, the streets are filled with miners. In the Gem, a good time is being had by all, the
piano is playing and people are crowded around it. Merrick is pondering his next article.)

Merrick: Timid, huh. Hardly, sir. My own strong personal impulse was to offer my name for
office but a fourth estate, independent in name and fact from the operations of
government is of the essence of a free society.

(While Merrick is pondering, the newly crowned Mayor is back behind the piano merrily
receiving a hand-job from a buxom whore. Al is watching with Dan, behind the bar.)

Al: I have got to find an early occasion to put the mayor off his pedestal.
Dan: Don’t do it with no mud.
Al: Did you wait a day before you ordered that fucking thing?
Dan: (Eating peaches with his substantial knife) Mmm, boss, you specifically countermanded
my waitin’ and askin’ again when you give me the order to get it.
Al: What fuckin’ revenue is being generated by these hoople-heads gathering around that
cocksucker and yodelin’ about their fuckin’ points of origin?
Dan: Shine’ll wear off.
Al: (Puts his had to his forehead) My fucking head.
Dan: All that organizing businesses?
Al: Aw, 25 cups of coffee and too much circulatin’ in the fresh air.
Dan: You chaired the piss out of that meetin’ this afternoon.
Al: (Picks up a fork and points it at Dan) That still don’t get you off the hook about that
piano.

(As Al turns around to walk off Dan points his knife back at Al in a mocking fashion to Al’s
pointing of the fork.)

---
(Seth and Sol are sitting on the Hardware Store porch, Sol smoking a pipe and Seth smoking a
cigar.)

Sol: Before I’d told a story on myself, like the Doc did, I’d have just said, “Thank you for the
nomination, but I decline being health supervisor.”
Seth: They buy bodies to do their research. Doctors, they cut ‘em open and study ‘em.
Sol: All the less reason for saying you’ve been arrested for grave robbing. Seven Times.
Anyways, good for you volunteering for the post.
Seth: If I had known then they wasn’t gonna have a sheriff, I’d never raised my hand.
Sol: I don’t follow.
Seth: I only raised my hand ‘cause I didn’t want to be sheriff. It’s all temporary, anyhow.
Sol: That’s right.
Seth: And ad hoc.
Sol: Did you happen to notice at the Gem that one girl we rode back with from Mrs. Garrett’s
funeral?
Seth: Trixie, isn’t that what she said her name was?
Sol: Who’d been helping Mrs. Garrett with the child.
Seth: Yeah, I noticed her.
Sol: Much as she’d taken to helping with that little one.
Seth: Big pull to that, goin’ back to what you know.
Sol: You think she’s pretty?
Seth: Very.
Sol: (Taps out his pipe, stands up) Take some air.
Seth: Yes, sir.

(Utter approaches as Sol starts to leave)

Utter: Evenin’
Sol: Evening.
Utter: Some meetin’ huh?
Sol: Congratulations on your new post.
Utter: Oh.
Sol: And for your freight business.
Utter: Thank you.
Sol: Okay. (Takes off)
Seth: Evening, Charlie.
Utter: Evenin’. (Sits down, sighs) How much time you think that fire marshal obligation’s
gonna take? (Seth just shakes his head) More or less as much as your health
commissioner, huh? (Chuckles). How about that doc? Grave Robber. (Seth smiles and
nods)
---
(Nuttall approaching Johnny in the Gem)

Nuttall: Anybody else felled from them canned peaches?


Johnny: Uh, not to my knowledge. Why, you feelin’ poorly?
Nuttall: Well, um, uh. it’s – it’s easin’ up some.

(Nuttall walks off quickly, Sol is walking through the Gem, looking for Trixie. He waves hello to
Al as he passes him and walks up to Trixie. Al keeps an eye on them.)

Sol: Evenin’.
Trixie: Evenin’
Sol: I’ve wondered how things were with you…and Mrs. Garrett and the child.
Trixie:(She looks to her right, at Al, he walks off) I expect they’re doing well. You know she
struck lucky at her claim.
Sol: And how are you, Trixie?
Trixie:As you see, earnin’ the greasy eye from my boss for idle chatter.
Sol: Can I buy you a drink?
Trixie:I’d rather you didn’t. (A john and a whore run through the hall between them) This isn’t
the place for you.
Sol: So YOU say.
Trixie:If you insist on my embarrassing myself, have it not where I’d want you to see me.
Sol: Come see me then.
Trixie:He don’t permit our making calls out.
Sol: Come to our store. Come buy a broom.
Trixie:I don’t want what I can’t have, Mr. Star.
Sol: Alright. (Puts his hat back on, starts to leave.)
Trixie:If I did come, I’d buy and ax, a hammer, and a saw.
Sol: All fully stocked. And we never ask the purpose of a customer’s purchase.

(Trixie smiles – BIG – Sol tips his hat and leaves. On his way out, Merrick stops him.)

Merrick: Our mayor. (Looks over to the piano where just behind it, EB is drunk and barely
standing upright) Oh, Mayor! (EB takes his hat off and waves it around like he’s a queen
in a parade. They laugh and Sol slaps Merrick on the shoulder and leaves.)
---
(Doc returns to the pest tent)

Rev: Doctor.
Doc: I’m gonna have a look at you.
Rev: Alright.
Doc: Don’t turn your head away, Reverend. Bein’ sick ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of. (The
Rev crooks his head more forward.) Look at my finger.
Rev: I apologize for the smell.
Doc: What is it that you smell?
Rev: As if I’ve died.
Doc: You emit no such odor.
Rev: I smell my flesh rotting.
Doc: It isn’t rotting, Reverend. Your flesh does not smell. You have not died. You’re having
organic changes in your mind that’s making you believe these things. Do you understand
me?
Rev: Formerly, Doctor, when the work took me as I read scripture, people felt God’s presence
through me and that was a great gift that I could give to them. Now the word does not
take me when I read nor do I feel Christ’s love. Nor do those who listen hear it through
me.
Doc: Alright.
Rev: This is God’s purpose. The not knowing the purpose is my portion of suffering.
Doc: And is there any pain competing with the not knowing?
Rev: I’m not in pain. There are new smells, I smell, and there are parts of my body I can’t
feel, and His—and His love.
Doc: (shaking his head from side to side) And you want to continue like this?
Rev: As long as He wills, this must be my part. To be afraid, as well.
Doc: Well, if this is His will, Reverend, He is a sonofabitch. Goodnight. (The Doc gets up
and leaves)
Rev: Goodnight, Doctor.
---
(Joanie enters the Bella Union and approaches Eddie)

Joanie: Hey, Eddie.


Eddie: Hey, kid. How’d it go?
Joanie: Alright. And I got me a four-bit room. Play your cards right, I’ll tell you where.
(She walks off – Cy is in his office. She enters)
Joanie: Hi, Cy.
Cy: Was afraid I’d lost you to the heathens.
Joanie: How was that meeting?
Cy: Alright, we were organizing for annexation until Eddie cracked his fuckin’ mouth.
Joanie: What’d it turn to then?
Cy: (Laughing) Joint like ours, Joanie, what are we selling? Walk through this door, it’s a
new start. Come on in, try your luck here. Of course, we know the percentages bein’ the
percentages, you play long enough, your luck ain’t gonna get no better here than
anywheres else. Maybe it’s ‘cause we’re in a brand new camp. Since we arrived, certain
people that are near and dear to me seem to have bought into our own fuckin’ line and
now they’re trying to get me to go along. But I can’t. See, Joanie, (stands up) ‘cause I’m
a big boy. Now, I’m ready for…Eddie and me to have a little chat.
Joanie: I did look around for places, Cy.
Cy: Good, I wanted you to.
Joanie: I want to go ahead and do what we talked about.
Cy: Good, honey. With your eyes wide open. (draws a line with his finger back and forth
between their eyes. He walks out of the office, approaches Eddie at the bar, who is
shuffling cards, and taps the bar for a drink.) Eddie Sawyer.
Eddie: Can we keep this short?
Cy: Sure, Eddie. If he finds you a 12 year-old farm boy to have some fun with, is that short
enough for you?
Eddie: I never did that and you know it.
Cy: All this crap about what is and isn’t natural, whatever does it for a fella is what does it,
ain’t that right?
Eddie: I never did that.
Cy: But did you ever want to unbutton some farm boy’s dentons and get yourself some
relaxation? That’s what I’m askin’ you? Take that boy you spoke up for up in Joanie’s
room the other day.
Eddie: I spoke up for not torturing that boy.
Cy: Well, what you spoke for I (We see Joanie going upstairs, watching their exchange) and
what you would have wanted to do if it was just you and that corn-fed in that room alone
is what I’m inquiring about the difference between.
Eddie: A dry hole, Cy.
Cy: Aw, you could work that out. You just use some spit on that or lard. (Eddie shakes his
head no in disgust, tries to pick up his cards, Cy grabs them and slams them down away
from Eddie.) 17 fuckin’ years and I never saw a look on your face I saw up there in that
room the other day, including when I had to smack some girl around.
Eddie: I was never in a room with you before where you was gonna kill somebody.
Cy: Now, I do not make judgments. I gave that up a long time ago. All I want is for us to get
along better, Eddie. So every time you open your mouth in public, I don’t have to worry
about what the fuck’s gonna come out! So let me get you some fuckin’ kid to fuck in the
ass or the mouth or suck his prick, or let him fuck you!
Eddie: Fuck you, Cy. Fuck You.
Cy: Yeah, now, now. That’s where I draw the line. Friend or no friend, and us wantin’ to get
along better or not. I want you to go up into Joanie’s room which I – I gather she don’t
want to go into no more. I want you to go up there with that boy like you were the other
day, only this time it’s just him and you. And I want you to figure out what it is that you
want. ‘Cause next time we see each other, I want you clear headed, Eddie, and
understanding yourself. The old Eddie that knows the percentages and how to play ‘em,
and whatever a man does away from the table is his own fuckin’ business. I want you
cheerful and ready to help me with my work. Or I don’t want you comin’ the fuck out!
Hmm? (Joanie is at the top of the stairs, sitting, she stands up when she hears this) You
finish your shift and you go up there to Joanie’s room. You think things though. Alright,
Eddie Sawyer? (Slams the cards back down in front of Eddie) Do we understand each
other?
Eddie: Why didn’t you volunteer for something at that meeting? Why didn’t you put your hand
up? Might’ve kept you from bein’ such an evil cocksucker.

(Eddie walks away. Cy drinks the rest of his whiskey in one shot. He’s still breathing hard with
anger over the conversation, adrenaline still pumping through him, like a dragon. What a big
boy!)

---
(Jane is sitting on a bench outside of Charlie’s freight business.)

Utter: Say hello to the new fire marshal.

(Jane throws her arms up like she’s been hit by a wave, smiling)

Jane: I’m gettin’ out. Goodbye and good luck.


Utter: Well, wait on until you ain’t exhausted, Jane, and maybe you’ll change your mind.
Jane: Direction of this entire camp makes me sick, and it bores the livin’ shit out of me.
Utter: Well, workin’ hours like you’ve been workin’, it’d get anyone out of sorts. And you
helped a lot of people.
Jane: Sent a dozen men out with their plague sores healed to go back to gettin’ ‘em on their
johnsons. I will not be a drunk where he’s buried and I cannot stay fuckin’ sober. (Puts
the lid back on her canteen) So you and every human being on earth past, present and
future can drink mare’s piss.
Utter: I believe I’ll just have well water.
Jane: Shut up, Charlie. (smiling)
Utter: Alright.
Jane: (Get up, picks up her saddle bag, bed roll and rope) If the subject comes up, explain to
Bill.
Utter: Alright, Jane.
Jane: Alright. (She heads off)
Utter: Tell them over at the livery I—I’m good for the mount.
Jane: Do not fuckin’ worry about me. And inform Hostetler at the fuckin’ livery you saved his
fuckin’ life.
Utter: Alright.
Jane: (Walking away, yelling, but not looking back) And do not worry about getting’ paid back.
Check the mail, Charlie, and you will find soon proper payment.
Utter: Alright, Jane.
Jane: Check with Utter Mail and Charlie Freight!
Utter: Alright.
---
(Back at the Gem, Trixie is entering Al’s bedroom)

Al: Since last our eyes were upon each other, lo, I hope you’ve earned me 5 dollars.
Trixie:No. (Closes the shutters to Al’s office area).
---
(At the hotel, Seth is in the lobby, waiting. The shitter approaches him)
Shit: I uh, I gave the lady your note, sir. She says to come ahead but to know low as the little
one’s asleep.
Seth: Thank you.

(The shitter hands him a paper, Seth gives him a tip)

Shit: Thank you, sir.

(Seth heads upstairs. Alma is in her room, sitting at the little table, watching Sophia sleep.
There is a knock at the door. She gets up, smoothes out her dress and pats at her hair. She opens
the door)

Seth: Evenin’
Alma: Good Evening, Mr. Bullock. Sophia’s asleep.
Seth: So I was told. I’m sorry for calling so late. (Enters) I’m to see Ellsworth in the morning
and wondered what I should say.
Alma: Ellsworth seemed very competent and trustworthy. He suggested that until the extent of
the quartz deposits could be proved, he could prospect the creek on my claim each week
to keep my title active.
Seth: How’d that plan sound to you?
Alma: I feel it’s exactly the way to proceed.
Seth: Alright, then.
Alma: Won’t you sit down?
Seth: Thank you. (Alma closes the door of the bedchamber to just a crack, they sit at the little
table.) Would it improve your opinion of me if I told you I was commissioner of the
board of health?
Alma: (Laughingly) How wonderful, I suppose.
Seth: It’s to put the camp’s best foot forward as far as being taken into the territory. A number
of men took positions.
Alma: I see.
Seth: Farnum’s mayor.
Alma: How horrifying. (Seth smiles and raises his eyebrows) Uh.
Seth: I wrote to my wife today.
Alma: (Freezes momentarily, nods her head like she’s taking a gulp of nasty tasting medicine
like a good little girl) Did you?
Seth: About her and my boy coming to camp.
Alma: You have a son as well?
Seth: They’re in Michigan with her people. My thinkin’ was with the treaty comin’
annexation, the camp would be settling down, a safer place.
Alma: Yes. (Pause – Alma looks down at her hands) Any other sons or daughters?
Seth: No, that’s it. My brother was in the Calvary. He was killed two years ago.
Alma: I’m sorry.
Seth: Anyways. (Gets up) I’m glad you got along with Ellsworth.
Alma: Well, thank you for all your help, Mr. Bullock.
Seth: Sure.
Alma: And congratulations on your new post…and the prospect of your family rejoining you.
Seth: Thank you. Good night, Mrs. Garrett.
Alma: Goodnight (As she’s opening the door for him) May I ask why you spoke of your
brother?
Seth: My wife was his widow. My boy is their child.
Alma: I see. Goodnight.
Seth: Goodnight. (Seth leaves.)

(Alma shuts the door, leans against the wall and puts her hands to her stomach. Shakes her
head, bites her lips, leans over and blows out the oil lamp.)

Cast:
Timothy Olyphant Seth Bullock
Ian McShane Al Swearengen
Molly Parker Alma Garret
Jim Beaver Ellsworth
Brad Dourif Doc Cochran
John Hawkes Sol Star
Paula Malcomson Trixie
Leon Rippy Tom Nuttall
William Sanderson Eustis Baily (E.B.) Farnum
Robin Weigert Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown Dan Dority
Dayton Callie Charlie Utter
Marshall Bell Magistrate Claggett
Sean Bridgers Johnny Burns
Kim Dickens Joanie Stubbs
Ricky Jay Eddie Sawyer
Jeffrey Jones A.W. Merrick
Ray McKinnon Reverend H.W. Smith (as
Raymond McKinnon)
Toni Oswald
Bree Seanna Wall Sophia Metz
Zack Ward
Keone Young Mr. Wu

Publicity images & episode content © 2004 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved. HBO and
Deadwood are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2004 Cristi H. Brockway.
The copyright claimed by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her personal contribution of
material not contained in the episode from which this transcript was compiled. Any commercial
use of this transcript is expressly prohibited.
Episode #10 – “Mr. Wu”
(Morning, at the hardware store)

Sol: (sighs - Makes thumb gesture towards door.)


Seth: (under breath) Yeah. What was in my mind to raise my hand?
Sol: Anyways, time for breakfast.
Seth: You go ahead.
Sol: Bullshit. Come on.

(Seth gets up, claps his hands as if to say “I wash my hands clean of this” and puts on his
hat, coat…starts to door then doubles back for the paper. They leave.)

Seth: (sighs) Would a letter to the paper be an idea? Same time I give the proposal to
Farnum?
Sol: Yes.
Seth: Marshal public sentiment in favor, maybe fence ‘em in a little.
Sol: Excellent approach.
Seth: Goddamn quicksand is what these commissioners positions amount to.
Sol: Yes, they do.
Seth: It’s all a hoot and a holler to you though, ain’t it. Sol?
Sol: No, it isn’t.
Seth: (Sees Farnum) Jesus Christ.
E.B.: Breakfast vittles at the ready, gentlemen.
Sol: Mayor.
Seth: As far as use for the fees to be levied on businesses, I worked a proposal up on a
permanent infirmary and a camp dump.
E.B.: The first use for those fees is payin’ bribes to the legislature. Their bag man’s in
transit.
Seth: Well, if there’s anything fuckin’ left.
E.B.: Why, Mr. Bullock, you sound like you want to wring my neck. (chuckles) We’ll
submit your ideas, Bullock, and by all means, I’ll take them under advisement.
Always glad to hear from the camp health commissioner.
Seth: (To Sol as EB walks away) Give the idea to the damn paper first.
Sol: tsk. (WTF? Tsk? More like a cluck or that sound you make when you wink your
eye and point to someone with a finger gun.)

(They enter restaurant – EB is crossing the street, we hear a horse neighing)

E.B.: Please, take your passage. Cocksucker. (He stops and looks shocked) What is
this celestial doin’ approachin’ the Gem’s front door? (Sees the titlicker approach
the Gem) The titlicker.

(Mr. Wu enters the front door of the Gem – Johnny comes running up to him.)
Johnny: Whoa – whoa – whoa – whoa – whoa – whoa! Stop where the fuck you
are, Mr. Wu.
Mr. Wu: Swe’gen.
Johnny: Yeah, well I’ll get Mr. “Swe’gen,” but first, you gotta walk the fuck out
and come around the back.
Mr. Wu: (Crosses arms – battle ready) Swe’gen.
Johnny: Uh, no, no! No! (Running to the front doors – closing them) No, closed for
a while. Lick Later. (Yelling up to the office) We got us a situation here, Al!
(Gestures to Mr. Wu) Come in the front fuckin’ door.
Al: Bring him up.
Johnny: You want me to take him out and bring him around back?
Al: Bring him the fuck up.
Johnny: Come on, Mr. Wu. Come on.
----
(Up in Al’s office – surprise surprise, he’s urinating in his chamber pot)

Johnny: (clears throat)


Al: Put him in the chair and get out, Johnny.
Johnny: Sit. Sit! He won’t sit.
Al: (To Johnny) Get out.
Johnny: Yes, sir.
Al: What is it, Wu?
Mr. Wu: (drawing) (“speaking foreign language – Keone must hate CC – I’m
trying to interpret this phonically) Tongyun – Tsok Tsai
---
Johnny: (To Dan) Do you think I should open it back up?
Dan: I believe that’s what Al would want. (Shakes head likes he’s thinking “Johnny,
you’re a stupid fuck)

(Johnny opens the doors to an impatient titlicker and E.B. – Dan motions to the whores
who giggle and head to the titlicker room)

Dan: Mayor.
E.B.: August commencement to my administration…(To Johnny) Stand stymied outside
a saloon, beside a degenerate titlicker.
---
(Back in Al’s office – he’s looking at Mr. Wu’s sketch)

Al: Now, the---this---this is one of you, huh?


Mr. Wu: (phonically, again – sorry!) Hough, Tong yun n tong yun (karate chop
and slit across throat)
Al: Oh, the—this is him dead?
Mr. Wu: Au. Ho…Heyan.
Al: And these two.
Mr. Wu: Bok Gwai Lo…cocksucka!
Al: Yeah, glad I taught you that fuckin’ word. These are whites, huh?
Mr. Wu: uh, white cocksucka! (Pulls out dope bag)
Al: Two white cocksuckers killed him and stole the dope that he was bringing to you.
Mr. Wu: White cocksucka! You, Swe’gen (gestures to the bag and Al)
Al: The dope that you were gonna fuckin’ sell to me?
Mr. Wu: White cocksucka.
Al: These two white cocksuckers? Who the fuck did it?
Mr. Wu: Wu!
Al: Who, you ignorant fuckin’ chink!
Mr. Wu: Wu?!
Al: Who?! Who?! Who stole the fucking dope?!
Mr. Wu: Cocksucka!
Al: Aw, Jesus.
---
Johnny: Those are the first “cocksuckers” I have ever heard shouted from that
room, Dan, that didn’t come from Al’s mouth that wasn’t followed by Al comin’
over to that railin’, pointin’ at you and beckoning you up them stairs with your
fuckin’ knife.

(Titlicker comes out with his hanky to his mouth wiping it clean)

E.B.: I begrudge that pervert his capacity for happiness. I do.


Johnny: (Looking up at the office) Them people worship a fat man seated on his
ass.
---
Al: You listen to me, hmm? Listen. (Tugs ear) I (hand shadowing eyes, turns head
side to side) find cocksuckers (Points to drawing). I find. (Repeats hand eye
motion) I find dope (holds dope bag out) and cocksuckers (points to drawing)
who steal (pulls dope bag to chest) fuckin’ dope, huh? (Throws dope bag down)
Mr. Wu: Cocksucka.
Al: Oh, yeah. (Walking Wu down the stairs) I’ll find those fucking cocksuckers.
Now get the fuck out of here, Wu. The back way, you understand? The back way,
or we’ll start getting people having the wrong fucking idea of things around here,
huh? (Slaps Mr. Wu on the back – Mr. Wu gives him a look like “did you just
fucking touch me?” He then leaves through the back door, pausing when he gets
to the whores, disgusted that he has to pass through them to leave)
Al: (To Dan) Where’s the dope fiend?
Dan: I ain’t seen Jimmy Irons in three or four days.
Al: Fucking find him. (Turns head to E.B.) Morning, E.B.
E.B.: Morning, sir. Anything the mayor should know?
Al: Name of another tailor.

(Johnny smiles – Al leaves bar, E.B. scurries after him as Al’s heading up the stairs.)

E.B.: Didn’t we have an engagement to stuff envelopes, Al?


Al: Not ‘til I get the currency to stuff ‘em with.
---
(Out on the mucky street – we see Silas arrive in town on horseback, with his “butler”)
---
Merrick: (In restaurant – clears throat) “Any person who causes offal, manure,
rubbish or filth to be discharged in the common areas of the camp except in the
areas designated the camp dump, shall be subject to a fine of not less than a dollar
or more (Seth and Alma see each other – Seth smiles) than three dollars. Such
revenues to be used for dump upkeep and to build and keep up a camp infirmary.”
(Alma enters, Seth and Sol, men in background, rise. Seth takes hat off to her)
That’s excellent, Mr. Bullock.
Seth: (To Alma) Mornin’,
Alma: Good morning, Mr. Bullock. Gentlemen. (Merrick rises, incomfortably)
Sol: Mrs. Garrett.
Merrick: Um, good morning, madam.
Sophia: Good Morning!
Merrick: And good morning to you, young lady. It’s Mr. Bullock’s ideas on
uh…refuse disposal. (He shows Alma the proposal – She looks at it as if she
couldn’t care less) Uh, it is terribly crowded today.
Alma: Mmm.
Merrick: We were just remarking just yesterday that it couldn’t possibly (Seth nods
his head to the exit at the guys across the room). And yet today, it is. (Guys get
up – Alma immediately directs Sophia to the empty table.)
---
(Silas dismounts, enters Grand Central Hotel.)

Silas: I’m gonna ask after E.B. Farnum.


Richardson (Bearded Cook Guy): Mr. Farnum’s away from the desk.

(Silas takes a coin out, slides it to Richardson.)

Richardson: Gem Saloon, across the way.


Silas: Two rooms.
Richardson: There’s no vacancy, sir.

(Silas takes out another coin and places it next to the other.)

Richardson: I’ll work it out while you eat.


Silas: There’s a man outside with two horses. You send the man inside, see the horses
stabled. Don’t ask no fuckin’ extra for it.
Richardson: Yes, sir.
---

(Back at the absurd restaurant…)

Merrick: Mr. Farnum’s doing a land office business. Or should I say Mayor
Farnum. (Seth is looking at Alma as Merrick says this)
Seth: (Looking back to Merrick) Don’t, unless you feel you have to.
Merrick: That very attractive solitary woman is Miss Joanie Stubbs, a supervisory
figure at Cy Tolliver’s Bella Union Saloon.
Sol: You cravat’s in your bacon.
Merrick: Oh.
Silas: (Standing in the food line at the restaurant) Fuck this! (He leaves)
Utter: Agh! Is it fuckin’ crowded in here or you just got some big fuckin’ feet? Maybe
it’s the lethal combination of ‘em both.
---
(E.B. Counting money into envelopes, licking his thumb after placing each bill in it’s
stack.)

EB.: This one legislator’s named on the list you were given twice, Al. Lucalis Childs
of Bismark.
Al: Give him two envelopes. I’ll call him on it if it ever suits my purposes. As damp
as your hands are, why do you continuously lick your fuckin’ thumb?
EB.: Habit, I suppose.
Al: Could you learn the habit of lickin’ a fuckin’ stump? (E.B. chuckles)
EB: If health commissioner Bullock, has his way, some of the levies meant to defray
the cost of these payoffs may get diverted.
Al: To what?
EB: Infirmary for the camp. Garbage dump.
Al: Well, that type of shit’s inevitable. E.B., steal none of this money.
EB: Gratuitous, hurtful and unnecessary.
Al: When I deal with these cocksuckers down the road. I need to be able to look any
one of ‘em in the eye, name what they were paid and know I’m right.
EB: Understood. Intact and undiminished.

(Al sees Silas walk in)

EB: What is it, Al?


Al: Half a chance this could be him.
EB: The bag man? He wasn’t to be here ‘til tonight.

(Silas approaches)

Silas: Name’s Silas Adams. I’m looking for E.B. Farnum.


EB: (Standing up) I’m Mayor E.B. Farnum, Mr. Adams. And this is Al Swearengen.

(E.B. gestures to Al; Al nods his head but doesn’t get up.)

Silas: I’m to give this to you from Magistrate Claggett, (to E.B. pointing at the
envelopes) And you’re to give those to me.
Al: Pour yourself and your friend a drink! (Silas heads to the bar.) Stop! (Silas
turns around) You motherless fucking whores. (E.B. jumps up)
Silas: Fuck you!
Al: Fuck me?!
EB: Gentlemen!
Al: You know what he says here?
Silas: No. You think you should’ve asked me that before you motherfucked me?
Al: A double-crossing cocksucker, that’s Magistrate Claggett.
Silas: Is that the message you want me to take back to him?
Al: That’s the gist of it. Let me put it in a better way before I send you and your mute
friend back down the fuckin’ trail.
Silas: No later than tonight.
Al: You givin’ me a time limit?
Silas: Yeah.
Al: Pussy and whiskey free if you want it.
Silas: I make my own arrangements. (Starts to leave, Al nods to E.B. & the envelopes)
EB: Mr. Adams, may I accompany you to my hotel, sir? Mr. Adams? (E.B.’s running
out after Silas. Al pounds the table.)
Johnny: Hey, Al. Dan’s got Jimmy Irons.
Al: Tell him I’ll receive him in my fucking chambers, Okay?
---
(Back at the Grand Central Hotel…)

Richardson: (To hungry miner guy at counter) Get out of here.


Silas: You work out the rooms?
Richardson: You gotta share.
Silas: Just send up two plates of fuckin’ food.
Butler: And don’t spit in ‘em, partner.
---
Joanie: Mr. Utter. (Walking up to Charlie Utter in the food line) I’d ‘bout given
up hope.
Utter: Yes. (Following Joanie back to her table, waves at Merrick, Seth and Sol, hangs
up his hat on the antlers and sits down.) Mighty kind of you Miss Stubbs.
(Sophia is playing peek-a-boo with Utter)
Joanie: How’s the freight business working out?
Utter: All a man could wish for and verging on more than he can handle.
Joanie: (chuckles) Glad to hear it.
Utter: (Winks at Sophia – she smiles) How’d you do, uh, looking for your whorehouse?
Joanie: I ain’t found a spot yet. I guess, to be more honest, I’d say I found a few.
But I ain’t settled on one yet, absolutely.
Utter: I see.
Sol: Everyone done? Except now I fear for our lives.
Merrick: I’m done. Let’s take a nice brisk walk. (Getting up) Shit. Oh God, did I –
did I—did I spill on anyone?
Sol: No.
Merrick: Sorry.

(Sol tips hat to Joanie, Seth smiles at Alma.)


Utter: Where y’all headed?
Merrick: Mmm, gonna take the air. Join us if uh, the opportunity permits. (Jerks
head to exit)
Joanie: It’s good to see you, Charlie. Have a good day.
Utter: You too, Miss Stubbs.
Merrick: Madam, (To Alma) as crowded as it was yesterday and more so today, it
shows no sign of becoming less crowded. (Bends over to pick up his glasses (?)
that he dropped)
Guy: You mind gettin’ your ass out of my shoulder?
Utter: (Slaps guy on the back) You got a rude fuckin’ mouth, fella. (Looks up and over,
sees Alma and puts a finger to his lips, underbreath:) Uh – ‘scuse me.

(Outside on porch)

Merrick: Conditions in that dining room have grown increasingly oppressive.


(Takes a deep breath and points the way ahead)
Sol: It’s crowded, for a fact.
Seth: Price of the camp’s success.
Utter: That fella was being smart with you, Merrick. Your ass was nowhere near his
shoulder.
Merrick: Well, whatever my proximity, it was certainly unintentional.
Utter: Well, believe me, I had the angle.
Sol: We was just remarkin’ how tight it’s all gettin’ in there.

(They all step over a drunk, Sol and Merrick in the lead, Seth and Utter behind.)

Merrick: Ah, ye how many memories fond to the recollection have their setting in
that tight little dining room?
Utter: Yeah, well it’s fucked now.
Seth: Anyways, we ought to open soon.
Merrick: Who would argue that the venue was the cause of these happy memories,
nor the bill of fare? The bitter coffee, the rancid bacon, those stale biscuits that
were tomb and grave to so many insects. No, gentlemen, it was the meandering
conversation, the lingering with men of character, some whom are walking with
me now, that were suck pleasure to experience and such a joy now to recall.
Sol: Good of you to say, Mr. Merrick.
Utter: Yeah, back at ya as far as that goes.
Seth: Yeah.
Merrick: Gentlemen, what’s to prevent up from freeing our friendship from
dependence on that little dining room? Relying not on happenstance and appetite
to further commence between us, but on our own conscious choice?

(Seth grabs Sol’s arm)

Utter: Meanin’ what?


Merrick: Meaning, Mr. Utter, the most informal and disorganized of clubs.
Seth: We gotta open, Sol.
Utter: Yeah, I don’t join clubs.
Merrick: Ah, now, its sole purpose could be just walking together as we are now.
Sol: Well, why don’t we just walk together when we happen to be out?
Merrick: We could, we could, or we could dedicate ourselves to the principle of
walking together. Would it—maybe all we need is a name.
Seth: Sol? We gotta open.
Utter: Yeah, I got freight comin’ in.
Sol: This was good. I enjoyed this.
Utter: Yeah, we’ll do it again.
Seth: Morning, Mr. Merrick.
Merrick: Thank you, Mr. Bullock. And thank you for the uh, letter to the editor.
(They’ve all left, Merrick is alone on the porch – ruminating on his walking club.)
The Ambulators. Huh.
---
(Back in Al’s office.)

Al: Where have you been, Jimmy?


Jimmy: So fuckin’ sick, Mr. Swearengen. Chills, fever.
Al: Yeah, I hear it still in your chest.
Jimmy: Couple times, felt like turnin’ my face to the fuckin’ wall.
Al: Fuckin’ pale you are, too.
Jimmy: I—I’ve rounded the corner, though. Plan for my return today or
tomorrow.
Al: Wu’s opium courier was robbed.
Jimmy: Oh, is that so? Well, was it money they got or dope?
Al: All his fuckin’ dope.
Jimmy: Uh-oh, so you didn’t get your resupply?
Al: No.
Jimmy: Had you any laid by?
Al: No, sir. Uh-oh, hey, Jimmy?
Jimmy: It sounds like I’m in for a dry time. (sighs) Some more aches and pains
comin’ up for me. Uh, when Wu suppose he hear again from California? (Al
shake his head) Can he even make himself understood to you? I’m that amazed
how the fuck you and him can make yourselves understood anyway to each other.
(chuckles)
Al: Jimmy, what become of the dope fiend faro dealer that I hired to apprise me of
what transpired over at Tolliver’s?
Jimmy: Uh, Leon?
Al: Leon, that’s right.
Jimmy: Geez, he just disappeared, didn’t he? Where the fuck has he got to?
Al: You’ve been wrong ever since you walked in here. You know that, Jimmy, don’t
you?
Jimmy: Well, like I said, sir, I feel like hell.
Al: Is that what I mean?
Jimmy: Well, what do you mean, Mr. Swearengen?
Al: You been lyin’, Jimmy. (inhales audibly) Smell of cat’s piss, in this room is so
bad, I want to burn down the fuckin’ building. (inhales & exhales audibly)
Jimmy: I—I’m nervous, sir. I’m always nervous around you.
Al: Nervousness don’t cause that. Lyin’ causes cat piss smell. (inhales & exhales
audibly) I want to tear this entire fuckin’ structure down, huh. I’ll strangle you
and throw you off the balcony, you stinkin’ little cocksucker, if you don’t hurry to
tell me where and what’s left of that fuckin’ dope that you and that other fuckin’
weasel have been slammin’ into your dope fiend fuckin’ veins during your fuckin’
convalescence.
Jimmy: God, Mr. Swearengen—

(Al smacks Jimmy hard upside the head, knocks him to the ground)

Al: Jesus, what a fuckin’ stink! Not to mention you kill a fucking chink courier and
the headache over that I’m gonna have with fuckin’ Wu if I ever get this fucking
stench out of my fuckin’ nostril.
Jimmy: I just shit myself, sir. I’m sayin’ it now before the smell gets you.
Al: You shit yourself?
Jimmy: I’m sorry.
Al: Go ahead, throw yourself off the balcony.
Jimmy: I’m gonna crawl, sir. I shouldn’t stand.
Al: Where’s the fucking dope?
Jimmy: At Leon’s, I’ll show you exactly. I’ll tell you everything. We were four
days up in his room.
Al: Hurry the fuck up. Go on throw yourself, huh? And stay in the fuckin’ muck
until I’m down there.
Jimmy: I just got a splinter the length of my arm in my fuckin’ palm. It’s alright.
Al: Go. Go, Jimmy, come on. Come on, get your shit-smeared ass off my balcony.
Go, go, go!

(Jimmy climbs over the balcony railing and falls into the muck.)

Jimmy: Ugh! I—I hurt my arm. But I’m okay.


Al: (points at Jimmy) You fuckin’ lie there now.
Jimmy: I’m just gonna roll forward so uh, so I don’t get trampled.
---
(Al descending stairs…)

Al: (To Johnny) Jimmy Irons is in the muck. Don’t let him scuttle off until Dan
emerges with other orders.
Dan: How’d it go with Jimmy?
Al: Lyin’ thievin’ cocksucker threw himself off the balcony. He’ll lead you to
whatever shithole him and that dope fiend faro dealer from Tolliver’s have been
usin’ to slam Wu’s junk into their arms. Change Irons into a pair of the other
cocksuckers trousers and bring ‘em both back here, plus whatever dope’s left.
Dan: Alright.
Al: Is that the fuckin’ Reverend idlin’ by the piano?
Dan: Yes, sir.
Al: Has he explained his presence at all?
Dan: No, sir. But he ain’t been tryin’ to lead no lost souls to the Lord.
Al: So there’s that.

(Dan grabs his hat & leaves, Al approaches the Rev.)

Al: Reverend.
Rev: Uh, Mr. Swearengen. Your new piano plays wonderfully.
Al: Ain’t it delightful? (To the piano player) Dave, go get a free touch from Wanda,
huh? (To the Rev) What’s the matter with your eye?
Rev: I-I’m not certain. Something’s been amiss the last week or so.
Al: Anyways, not wanting to give offense, would you mind me asking you to frequent
another joint?
Rev: No. No, I understand.
Al: A man of the cloth slows business down, huh?
Rev: I-I understand, certainly. (Rev gets up from his chair with some trouble)
Al: Hey, what – what’s that then, hmm?
Rev: Something amiss with my leg, as well. (Al takes his arm and walks him to the
door)
Al: Ah. How you dealin’ with the fits, huh?
Rev: Nothing amiss with those. They come with some regularity.
Al: My brother suffered them.
Rev: Did he?
Al: Any case, don’t take me for inhospitable. Off hours, any purpose you want to
visit, hmm (drinking motion), hmm? (fucking motion) Incognito or the like, I’ll be
happy to make it work.
Rev: I just happened to hear the piano.
Al: Alright, Minister.
Rev: Alright, Mr. Swearengen.

(Reverend leaves, Al turns around and walks across room)

Al: Fuckin’ new piano.


---
(Hostetler walks into the hardware store)

Sol: Afternoon. (Seth rises)


Seth: Afternoon, Hostetler.
Hostetler: Afternoon. Now, I got other interests in my property. If’n you want it,
better make a offer.
Seth: I’m not gonna make an offer today.
Hostetler: Mmm. How much time would you need?
Seth: I don’t know, Hostetler. I said when I was ready I’d be by to you. You don’t
want to rush me.
Hostetler: I was giving you first opportunity. No one is rushing you.
Seth: Alright.
Hostetler: Fair offer from other interests, I’m gonna take it.
Seth: (Impatiently) Alright, Hostetler.
Hostetler: I’ll be havin’ a pick ax.
Sol: Bargain at seven dollars.
---
(Joanie’s room – there’s a knock on the door)

Joanie: It’s open.


Eddie: Hi ya, kid.
Joanie: Hi, Eddie. (They hug)
Eddie: Did that bloodstain get you the special rate?
Joanie: (chuckles) Have a seat, Eddie. I’d offer you a drink, but I don’t have any
booze.
Eddie: Settle on a location for you new place yet?
Joanie: I’m looking.
Eddie: Good.
Joanie: That’s a lie.
Eddie: As long as it’s the only one you ever told me.
Joanie: I don’t want Cy to back me, and I don’t know how to do anything without
him.
Eddie: I’ll back you.
Joanie: You don’t have that kind of money.
Eddie: I will.
Joanie: You gonna turn prospector, Eddie?
Eddie: I’m gonna rob Cy.
Joanie: Don’t Eddie. He’ll know.
Eddie: What’s the time, kid? (Joanie looks in her hip pouch – no watch) No, he won’t.
---
(Back in Al’s office with Jimmy Irons, Leon seated, Dan and Johnny standing guard, Al
sitting at his desk.)

Al: I do business with this fucking man. Wu does 50 fuckin’ things for me. You rob
his fucking courier and kill the cocksucker. What the fuck do I do with you, huh?
Leon: I’m so fucked up, Mr. Swearengen. I can’t make a case for myself.
Al: Well, what would you want to say? From you, I have received no service of any
kind at any point. That chair would make a better spy. (Kicks chair Leon is
sitting in hard, it tips over.)
Leon: Oh! Oww…
Jimmy: I’ve worked hard for you, Mr. Swearengen. My habit’s a fuckin’ curse.
Leon: Oh, God. I wish to fuck I never took up opium in my life.
Jimmy: If somethin’ might persuade you, Mr. Swearengen, to say you couldn’t
find us and give us a day’s start out of fuckin’ camp. You got almost half the
dope back, maybe a little less.
Al: So I give him a little less than half the dope, which you bein’ the cat piss stinkin’
liars you are, he’ll probably draw a picture explaining it’s ten percent of the dope.
And then I’ll probably draw a picture for him, portraying myself a cunt! “Cause
in that chink mind of his, I’m supposed to bring you to him for his pig’s fuckin’
supper.
Jimmy: Please fuckin’ God, Mr. Swearengen, don’t give us to Wu for his pigs.
Leon: (Gags, spews vomit across the floor, sobs)

(Al nods to Johnny, Johnny looks at Dan, Dan motions to Johnny, Johnny points to
Himself, “who me?” walks to Jimmy Irons and taps him on the shoulder, points to the
vomit on the floor, hands him a towel. Johnny, all proud of himself, hooks his thumbs
in his suspenders and rocks on his heels.)

---
Mr. Wu: (phonically again-sorry!) Wey! As sign a! Dit toy bin do wa! Ne fie di ja oh
wa ne fie de wa!
Al: We’re here to be overcharged on some fuckin’ meat. Will your chink highness
fucking permit us to go inside and get robbed blind on a side of elk?

(Mr. Wu unlocks the door of the meat locker and motions them inside)

Al: I found the cocksuckers that stole your dope and that’s what’s left of the fuckin’
shipment. (Shows Mr. Wu the ball of dope – swaddled in burlap)
Mr. Wu: Cocksuckas! (Slit motion across neck)
Al: Oh, yeah, I’m all fuckin’ for it, Wu. But neither of us would have reached our
present comfortable position freezing our balls off if we didn’t understand you
can’t cut the throat of every cocksucker whose character it would improve.
Mr. Wu: Cocksucka! (Slit throat motion again)
Al: Yeah, well, what happens after the white cocksuckers throats have been cut and
two dozen more white cocksuckers get their loads on and decide to teach you and
all you chink friends a fuckin’ lesson? Who’s gonna walk away from that get
together, huh, Wu?
Mr. Wu: Cocksucka!
Al: Yeah, cocksucker. Swe’gen bring you cocksucker.
Mr. Wu: (sighs) Swe’gen.
Al: But only one, Wu. One cocksucker, not two. (Holds up fingers to illustrate)
Mr. Wu: (Breathing heavily) Cocksucker (slits throat) One. No two. (Holds
fingers up to illustrate like Al did)
Al: I give up two whites for one chink. When they’re finished stringin’ you up,
they’ll come get me. (Points to meat) How much?
Mr. Wu: (Shakes head no, motions to meat) Swe’gen.

(Al bows head to Mr. Wu, Dan unhooks the meat while Mr. Wu exits the meat locker)

Al: Even money this’ll end up a fuckin’ blood bath.


(They exit the meat locker, Al speaks in a louder tone than normal)

Al: Every fuckin’ time I come with one price in mind and leave having paid in
double. How does this Wu do it to me, huh?
Dan: Think the chinks understand you?
Al: (Talking normally) They understand my fuckin’ attitude, that he’s a fuckin’ wily
big shot. Builds him up amongst his people. (lowers his voice) Take them two
dope fiends over to the baths while I converse with Tolliver over which one gets
murdered, huh?

(Al walks over to Mr. Wu, holds up one finger, Mr. Wu nods yes, Al holds up two fingers,
Mr. Wu shakes his head no – reluctantly.)

Dan: It’s a nice piece of meat.


Al: So cut a piece off for yourself. Put the rest in the cellar, then take them hoople-
heads over to the baths.
Dan: (Loudly – to Mr. Wu) Nice Meat!

(Dan leaves. Mr. Wu looks at his men and walks towards them, yelling (phonically again
As much as I could get– sorry!))

Mr. Wu: A Lea lila e fong goon ga doa gwee er….


---
(Al enters the Bella Union, Cy is standing at the bar with his back to the door, smoking a
cigar and nursing a whiskey)

Al: If it’s your missing faro dealer you’re drinking over, he just threw up in my
office.
Cy: (snickers) Had you been sharin’ space with him a while?
Al: Only long enough to find out him and a fellow dope fiend works for me robbed
and murdered a chink opium courier.
Cy: Oh, Leon, Leon, Leon. Second best thimble rigger I ever saw when he wasn’t
chasin’ the dragon.
Al: You do realize I’m presentin’ you with a mutual fuckin’ problem.
Cy: Which I expect’s a little ways down the road, so I’m waxin’ philosophical ‘til you
tell me what the fuck you want.
Al: I made a deal with the boss chink to give him one of the two dope fiends.
Cy: Oh. Do I assume some piece of the opium this courier bore was intended for you?
Ah, so you got a reason to keep the chink boss happy. I don’t, so I can stand on
principle.
Al: What’s your fuckin’ principle?
Cy: A white dope fiend’s still white. I don’t deliver white men to chinks.
Al: Leaving me with a bag of shit to hold.
Cy: Well, maybe you should think harder about traffickin’ in fuckin’ junk.
Al: I’m a purveyor of spirits, Cy, dope fuckin’ included, and when chance affords, a
thief, but I ain’t no fuckin’ hypocrite.
Cy: (sighs) I think we’re done, Al. But in my line, I’m used to certain types thinkin’
they need the last word.
Al: My last word is the fuckin’ bag man’s here from Yankton, so get up your fuckin’
share. (He leaves)
Cy: (To the bartender) Where’s fuckin’ Joanie stayin’?
Bartender: I don’t know, Cy.
Cy: Ah, don’t fuckin’ lie to me.
Bartender: I don’t know.
Cy: tsk. Well, if you see her at whatever fuckin’ place you don’t know where she’s
stayin’ at, tell her I have some good fuckin’ news for her about upcoming real
estate availabilities. If she’d ever show up to hear about it. Okay?
Bartender: Sure, boss.
Cy: Thank you.
---
(Piano playing, the Reverend is back at the Gem sitting next to the piano, kicking his
heels to the floor in time with the music, ecstatic look on his face. The whores are
playing ring around the drunk guy, Trixie walks down the stairs and sees the Rev, Jewel
walks in.)

Johnny: That ain’t right, see. My father was a preacher of the word and that ain’t
fuckin’ right.
---
(Doc is checking snatches, the whores are giggling and making fun of the Rev.)

Whore: So this what it’s come to in Deadwood, hey, Doc? Ministers kickin’ up their
heels and china men walking through the front door.
Doc: (To blonde whore after he’s done checking her snatch) You know, when you
giggle, you leak piss.
Trixie:Poor fucking man.
Doc: Lemme see your arm
Trixie:It’s fine, Doc, it’s better.

(Brunette whore crouching and pulling at her eye, laughing)

Doc: Quit acting like a goddamn fool and sit down.


---
(Whores are still playing ring around the drunk, the Rev is kicking his heels in time to the
music, laughing, having a grand old time. One of the whores pinches his cheek.)

Al: (Yelling) Get the fuck away from him! Shut that fuckin’ piano down! Hey, big
time! Fuck ‘em or get the fuck out! Did we not come to an understanding?
Rev: In what connection, sir?
Al: In the connection of you staying the fuck out of here.
Rev: I don’t recall that, sir. Do you wish me to leave?
Al: Yeah, I wish you to fuckin’ leave. Write yourself a note and hang it over your
one good fuckin’ eye. Stay out of Al Swearengen’s joint.
Rev: Alright, sir.
Al: And stay the fuck out of the Gem, what ever my fuckin’ problem is, hmm?
Rev: I was drawn to the music. The piano uh, relieves my headache.
Al: You listen to a piano where you don’t make a fuckin’ ass out of yourself, huh?
(Al walks to the bar)
Rev: Do you know where I might find one?
Al: No! (To Johnny) Help him the fuck out, huh? (Johnny nods head – goes to the
Rev – Al sees the Doc, motions him to the back.)
Johnny: (To the Rev) Mmm. (Takes him by the elbow and escorts the Rev out, on
the way they pass Jewel and her and the Rev look at each other.)
---
Al: What the fuck was that?
Doc: He’s havin’ changes in his brain.
Al: I hope to Christ he’s having changes. I’d hate to think of him conducting
performances like that of secret evenings in the forest and the like.
Doc: Well, I’m certain now it’s a tumor.
Al: Well, that caused the fits too, huh?
Doc: Yes.
Al: You notice now, too, he’s starin’ cockeyed? He was in here not two hours ago.
Don’t fuckin’ remember. Nothin’ to be done, huh?
Doc: No.
Al: Well, he ain’t comin’ back in my joint. He’s a fuckin’ man of the cloth in case he
forgets. Kickin’ up his legs like a four-bit strumpet. How’s Trixie’s spirits seem
to you?
Doc: Her abscess seems fine.
Al: That ain’t what I asked.
Doc: And I don’t answer for the state of people’s spirits.

(The Doc walks out, Al throws the spices(?) that he picked up off the table upon entering
back down on the table. Struts out to the bar.)

Al: (Yelling) Come on! Buy a drink! Get your pricks sucked! Spend some fuckin’
money, huh?
----
(Seth and Sol on their porch)

Seth: It ain’t circumstance. It’s my own fuckin’ mettlesome nature.


Sol: Far as what?
Seth: What I’ve done, Sol. And you have to admire me for it - is moved 300 miles to
set the dame situation up I left Montana to get away from. Drawin’ up proposals
for refuse disposal.
Sol: Unsolicited.
Seth: Insulted Hostetler out of my own fuckin’ irritability.
Sol: I believe Hostetler’s had worse afternoons.
Seth: Wife and child I barely know.
Sol: I don’t guess you need me to say it. If there’s a heaven, your brother sees what
you did and he’s grateful.
Seth: Maybe he sees me borrowing his life so I didn’t have to live my own.
Sol: People have made good lives out of borrowed ones before. But she is a beautiful
woman.
---
Al: Them stuffed envelopes for them cunts at the legislature, past smoothin’ the road
for the camp’s annexation they were supposed to clear up a personal situation.
But that letter you bore from the magistrate explained my situation would need
additional envelopes.
Silas: Not my problem.
Al: But you’d understand how a man would feel aggrieved, learning that he bribed a
legislator to annex a camp, but hadn’t got the sold-out cocksuckers to lift the
murder warrant against him, how he’d feel that he spent a lot of time and trouble
and expense for the privilege of getting hanged?
Silas: Not so far I’d excuse him motherfuckin’ me that only bore the message.
Al: No.
Silas: I’m here to take your message back to the magistrate.
Al: Who I’d be surprised is a lyin’ thievin’ double crossing cocksucker only in his
dealin’s with me?
Silas: Yeah, Magistrate Claggett is a cocksucker.
Al: And.
Silas: Make your offer.
Al: How can I prove you’re not here to catch me in a switch?
Silas: I’m not here to prove shit to you.
Al: Does it matter to you the cocksucker the warrant’s out on me for killing needed
murderin’ every fuckin’ day he drew breath?
Silas: No.
Al: Good. Gotta go to the bathhouse. You want to accompany me? No one’s
looking to fuck you up the ass. I gotta execute someone.

(Silas does a shot and gets up, they leave.)

Al: Here’s the situation. Two dope fiends rob and murder an opium courier. Dope
fiends are white, opium courier’s a chink.
Silas: So far, who cares?
Al: The chink who paid for the delivery is a boss amongst his own, goes berserk.
Matter of indifference still, huh? Some of the dope should have been delivered by
the boss chink to a pillar of the white community, a wonderful man. One of the
dope fiends works for a clever cocksucker who could be considered his rival, and
who is watching this from his balcony as we speak. Thank you for not looking.
The boss chink wants to feed both dope fiends to his pigs.
Silas: No.
Al: Would you give him one?
Silas: Is the boss chink the only source of opium in the camp?
Al: Yup.
Silas: Any other business connections with the white pillar?
Al: Several.
Silas: I’d give him one. Let the dope fiends draw fuckin’ straws.
Al: Clever cocksucker won’t consent to that. Don’t want his man in a lottery. That
could deliver him to a chink.
Silas: Is the clever cocksucker spoiling for a fight? (They continue their walk to the
bathhouse)
Cy: Al! What you asked for earlier? (Throws down bag of bribe money at their feet)
I suspect that’s who it’s intended for.
Al: Smart thinkin’.

(Silas bends over and picks up the bag)

Cy: This is Lilah. Say hello to the fellas, Lilah.


Lilah: Hello, fellas.
Al: Speaks, too. Be a big earner for you, Cy. (They continue to the bathhouse)
Al: Maybe he is spoilin’ for a fight.
Silas: Felt that way to me. (They stop)
Al: No one asked you how it felt. My money’d be on him trying to put the chink boss
in the wrong eyes of the camp. Anyways, Thank God I don’t have to rely on you
to formulate my plan of action. You with me?
Silas: Yeah, I’m with you.

(They walk to the bathhouse)

---
Jimmy: Mr. Swearengen. Al, we are good and fucked up. We are fucked up, Mr.
Swearengen. What have we been sayin’ repeatedly, Dan?
Dan: Al’s a good guy.
Jimmy: Uh, that you’d fuckin’ allow us your works here and us periodically fixin’
the entire time we’re in the fuckin’ tub, after how we inconvenienced you and
fucked you up. Fucked up out own fuckin’ lives from the time I was a fuckin’
child.
Leon: Al.
Jimmy: Thank you, Mr. Swearengen, and you are a good guy.)

(Al looks back at Silas like “can you believe this motherfucker?” – Jimmy splashes Leon)

Leon: Thank you, Al.


Al: One of you is gonna have to apologize to Wu.
Jimmy: Uh, apologize?
Leon: I’ll apologize. Bring that slant-eyed bastard over here. He can get in the fuckin’
tub with me. I’ll apologize and then I’ll kiss him. And then I’ll tie him off and I’ll
shoot him up and then I’ll blow him with fuckin’ soap.
Al: We’re gonna draw straws to see who goes over to see Wu.
Leon: We go there? I withdraw my volunteer. I am comfortable where I am.
Al: You’re gonna pick a straw, Jimmy.
Jimmy: Well – well, when you say apologize, sir, could you be specific what’s
gonna happen?
Al: Short straw apologizes.
Jimmy: But then what the fuck is Wu gonna do?
Al: I worked it out with Wu.
Jimmy: So, uh, our apology’s gonna be enough?
Leon: We happen to be fuckin’ white. And in case you hadn’t noticed, he happens to be
a fuckin’ slant-eyed fuckin’ celestial. He’s lucky to get a fuckin’ apology. He’s
lucky we’re willin’ to do even that.
Jimmy: Well – well, why do I pick?
Leon: I’ll pick. (Puts hand out) I don’t fuckin’ mind. Don’t be fuckin’ afraid. You be
fuckin’ afraid your whole life of every fuckin’ thing. You want me to pick, Al?
I’ll pick. And then I’ll blow myself with fuckin’ soap.
Al: Pick, Jimmy.
Jimmy: Show me. Uh, would you show me the straws, please, sir? So I—So I
know one’s long and one’s short.
Al: Pick.
Jimmy: Can I get off again first?

(Al shakes his head no, Jimmy hesitantly reaches for a straw, picks one, looks at Leon)

Leon: Is that the short one? Or the long one?

(Al throws the other straw to the ground, grabs Jimmy’s feet, forcing him underwater, Al
puts his foot on Jimmy’s throat, Jimmy struggles trying to grab Al’s leg.)

Al: Do not throw up. I don’t want to smell your stink!


---
(The Reverend enters the hardware store)

Sol: Reverend Smith.


Rev: Evening, sir. (Breathing heavily – through entire conversation, advances toward
Sol. Turns to Seth) Evening.
Seth: Reverend.
Rev: I watched goods in the tent this uh, this structure replaced while Messer’s Bullock
and Star first took in the camp.
Seth: You sure did.
Sol: What can we do you for you, Reverend?
Rev: I’m in a quandary, gentlemen. Are you Messer’s Bullock and Star?
Sol: In the flesh.

(Seth gets up from his desk to stand next to Sol, crossing his arms on the way.)

Rev: You are the absolute images of them, gentlemen. But what makes me afraid is I
do not recognize you as my friends. And, naturally, I am afraid.
Sol: What are you afraid of, sir?
Rev: I don’t know what’s happening to me. I have various ailments, and I suppose this
is a further ailment, but of what sort, I don’t know. And I’m afraid if you are
devils, which—which I don’t believe you are, because you were the kindest men
of all in the camp to me. But if you were devils, I suppose that—that would be
the-the-the type of shape you would take, and – and if you are not devils, I…Then
I am—I am simply losing my mind. And with my other ailments, I am concerned
and afraid.
Sol: Alright, Reverend.
Seth: We’re the people you met the night you watched our goods. I’m from Etobicoke,
Ontario.
Sol: I’m from Vienna, Austria.

(The Reverend’s face lights up.)

Rev: Wonderful.
Seth: You’re here with friends.
Rev: Yes. Yes, I feel that now. And I have various ailments of which we all suffer.
Sol: And next morning, often finds us feeling better.
Rev: Yes. In any case, part of God’s plan.
Seth: May we walk you back to your tent, sir?
Rev: (The Reverend smiles) An evening stroll with friends. I would do enjoy that.
Sol: Let’s go then.

(They get their hats, Seth gets his jacket as well and blows out the oil lamp, taking a
lantern with him. Sol takes the Rev by the shoulder and guides him out to the porch)

Rev: Mr. Swearengen’s saloon has a new piano.

(Seth locks up, Sol pats the Rev on the back, Seth walks to the Rev’s other side and pats
his back)
---
(Back at the bathhouse, Jimmy’s almost done drowning.)
Al: You tell your boss. Tell him what you saw here, huh?
Leon: I saw a fair procedure. (Reaches for dope) I saw a fair procedure, Al, to tell Mr.
Tolliver. (Al drops the finally dead Jimmy’s legs, punches Leon) Agh!
Al: Do not fucking call me Al! (Al shakes his hands dry. Does anyone else hear
Paul Simon playing in their heads? “You can call me Al, call me…”)
Leon: Aw. Ugh. (crying) Aw, aw.

(Silas, still stone faced, turns and leaves with Al. Dan pushes up his sleeves and grabs
Jimmy from the bathtub.)

---
Al: I guess Tolliver achieved his purpose standing on that balcony. (Silas gives Al
Cy’s bribe bag.)
Silas: Why’d you kill your own guy?
Al: Why?
Silas: You give Tolliver’s dope fiend to the boss chink instead of your own guy, gives
Tolliver the opening to make the boss chink look wrong in the eyes of the whites.
Al: He can go to war with me and make me out a chink lover. What if my guy had
drawn the long straw?

(Dan comes out of the bathhouse with a dead Jimmy wrapped in swaddling over his
shoulder)

Silas: I guess he’d have been shit out of luck.


Al: (To Dan) Mr. Adams doesn’t think there was a long straw. Mr. Adams, Mr.
Dority.
Silas: Silas.
Dan: Dan (Dan shifts Jimmy and offers his hand – they shake)
Al: Silas, life your lid. (Silas takes off his hat) Yeah. Get a fuckin’ haircut. Looks
like you mother fucked a monkey.
(Al walks off with Dan following him. Silas’ butler joins him on the porch of the
bathhouse)

Al: Wu! Here’s that cocksucker to apologize. (Lifts the sheet from Jimmy’s face)
Dan: Say you’re sorry, Jimmy!

(Dan throws Jimmy to the pigs. The pigs start squealing.)

Mr. Wu: (Puts right hand over his left fist) Swe’gen.
Al: (returns the gesture) Yeah. Swe’gen hopes we ain’t signed ourselves up for
killin’, too.

Cast:
Timothy Olyphant Seth Bullock
Ian McShane Al Swearengen
Molly Parker Alma Garret
Jim Beaver Ellsworth
Brad Dourif Doc Cochran
John Hawkes Sol Star
Paula Malcomson Trixie
Leon Rippy Tom Nuttall
William Sanderson Eustis Baily (E.B.) Farnum
Robin Weigert Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown Dan Dority
Dayton Callie Charlie Utter
Nick Amandos
Sean Bridgers Johnny Burns
Larry Cedar Leon
Kim Dickens Joanie Stubbs
Richard Gant Hostetler
Meghan Glennon
Monty 'Hawkeye' Henson
Ricky Jay Eddie Sawyer
Geri Jewell Jewel
Jeffrey Jones A.W. Merrick
Ray McKinnon Reverend H.W. Smith (as Raymond
McKinnon)
Dean Rader-Duval Jimmy Irons (as Dean Radar Duval)
Ralph Richeson Pete
Teresa Shae
Gene Thatcher
Bree Seanna Wall Sophia Metz
Titus Welliver Silas Adams
Keone Young Mr. Wu

Publicity images & episode content © 2004 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved.
HBO and Deadwood are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2004
Cristi H. Brockway. The copyright claimed by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her
personal contribution of material not contained in the episode from which this transcript
was compiled. Any commercial use of this transcript is expressly prohibited.
Episode 11
“Jewel’s Boot is Made for Walking”
(Trixie looking out window)

Al: A slob mick cop in Chicago gonna take me off for 35 dollars. Just because he
thinks he can. ‘cause when he comes around for his free fuckin’ meal and to have
his prick sucked and collect his weekly 20 fuckin’ dollars from the woman that
runs the whorehouse, I’m there buying girls to bring out to the camps. I knifed
the tub of guts. That’s what this cunt of a magistrate’s shaking me down over.
Having already taken $5,000 to have the warrant lifted.
Trixie:Can you do business with his bag man?
Al: I’ll fuckin’ find that out shortly. Or if you’re never gonna be able to fuckin’
operate in peace. What should I know?
Trixie:Bullock’s rode out with that Hostetler from the livery. Farnum’s slithered his way
across here. Jewel just left.
Al: Where the fuck is Jewel goin’?
Trixie:I don’t know.
Al: Take half a day off if you feel like. Go see that child. Well, venture out. Sally
fuckin’ forth, hmm?
Trixie:Maybe I will.
Al: But now come back to bed.
---
(Jewel walking in muddy street)

Horse rider: Hey! Get outta the way!


Asshole: Ugh-ugh-ugh-ugh (laughing)

(Jewel walks on…falls)

Guy: Watch yourself there.

(She gets up, brushes herself off, fixes her hair)

(knocks on Doc’s door)

Doc: Who’s sick? What’s he doin’ makin’ you walk to tell me?
Jewel: I came here on my own, Doc. I got something I want to show you. It’s a book.
Doc: Oh no. I don’t read goddamn books on the civil war. No.
Jewel: Look!
Doc: I don’t need to look. I was goddamn there.
Jewel: But it’ll help me walk better.
Doc: Okay, you’re referring to the brace on his leg.
Jewel: Yes.
Doc: For your information, Jewel, that boy in the drawing was goddamn able-bodied
before he got his leg shot up, not born with difficulties and hardships that got no
cure and took from you the coordination a brace like that would require.
Jewel: I—I was just lookin’ at the picture, and draggin’ my leg really makes Al crazy.
Doc: Fuck Al. Everybody’s got limits. You draggin’ you leg is yours.
Jewel: I’m sorry.
Doc: What do you apologize for? Don’t – Don’t apologize to me. Lemme—let me
hold onto this for a while.
Jewel: Thank You.
---
(Out in the street a stage coach has pulled up and packages are being unloaded. Merrick
runs up to the stage with glee, his long awaited camera has arrived. He’s dancing
around with excitement and nerves as the men unloading the crates are not being to
gentle…)

Merrick: Ha, ha, ha, momentous! The long-awaited day! Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes,
yes! Oh God, Oh God, Oh, yes, yes. Uh, careful, careful, careful, careful! Now
sir, we must confirm the contents of this precious cargo. Oh God, Philistine. Ah,
Joseph, what you see here is an American Optical back focus single swing with a
Meyer-Gorlitz trio plan 210 millimeter lens. The finest photographic apparatus
manufactured in this country. What William Henry Fox Talbot could have
achieved in service of this fine apparatus. Ah, God! Agh! Yo, God, Yes, careful,
careful.
---
(Back in the absurd restaurant…)

Guy (To Charlie Utter): Good Day, sir.


Utter: Ow, damn.
Joanie: What’s wrong?
Utter: Uh, bit my d—
Alma: Oh. (bumps into Utter)
Utter: Leaned forward to give that fella passage and bit my damn tongue. Knocked off
my chewin’ angle.
Joanie: Is it bleeding?
Utter: Now, I don’t want to look. Might upset the child.
Joanie: Anyways, maybe a different way’s opened up, Charlie, as far as me
getting backing for my brothel.
Utter: Uh-huh. I understood the question was location, but glad to hear the backin’
problem’s solved.
Joanie: I think uh, I’ve been finicky over the location ‘cause I wasn’t comfortable
with the backing.
Utter: I’ll tell you one thing, I ain’t makin’ too many friends in this camp in my capacity
as fire marshal.
---
Ellsworth: We’re through the easy pickin’ on that outcrop, ma’am. I’ll wade around
that creek as long as you like. But, uh you wanna make you claim show it’s
colors, you’re gonna need to sink a few shafts.
Alma: I’m close to suggesting that we proceed.
Ellsworth: Meaning my use to you’s near a finish.
Alma: No.
Ellsworth: I told you Mrs. Garrett, such as it is, my expertise ain’t underground.
Alma: I want you still to supervise. I trust you, Ellsworth, as an honorable man. I take
great pleasure in your company.

(Sophia looks at Alma’s hand touching Ellsworth’s and back to Alma)

Ellsworth: I feel the same. I look forward to our breakfasts, and I’ll just say once, I
know I’m too damn old for ya.
Otis: Button.
Alma: Oh my goodness.

(Otis kisses Alma)

Alma: (laughing) I can’t b-


Otis: (too Ellsworth) I take a father’s liberty.
Alma: Uh, Mr. Ellsworth, Mr. Russell.
Ellsworth: How do you do, sir.
Otis: How do you do.
Alma: Uh, and this is Sophia.
Otis: Hello, Sophia.
Sophia: Hello.
Otis: (To Ellsworth) Your daughter?
Alma: My ward.
Ellsworth: Any rate, pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m honored to be in your daughter’s
employ. And with your permission, ma’am, I will take my leave.
Alma: Uh, of course.
Ellsworth: And my plate…and my coffee…and my hat.
(sticks tongue out at Sophia – she sticks her tongue out at Ellsworth)
Otis: Fine manners.
---
Andy: Reverend Smith.
Rev: How are you, sir.
Andy: Andy Cramed, Reverend.
Rev: Mr. Cramed, you returned to the setting of your recovery.
Andy: Uh-huh.
Rev: How have you fared since?
Andy: I’ve been trying out the other camps.
Rev: To what effect?
Andy: No good effect, Reverend.
Rev: I see.
Andy: How you feelin’?
Rev: Uh, as you see, uh, the tent, as you see is in the process of being dismantled. Our
last tenant took his leave yesterday.
Andy: Upright?
Rev: He was upright, yes. His name escapes me. Doctor Cochran, I believe, uh, is
expected shortly, I believe. I was asked to uh, to see to the packing of uh, certain
liniments and uh…medicines.
Andy: Are you not well, minister?
Rev: Sometimes I’m very well, indeed. My energy will return, or even an excess of
energy. At other times, I’m not well, or an excess of energy. How are you Mr.
Cramed?
Andy: Well, I backslid in the other camps. At Gayville, I had the best intentions and I
wound up at dice.
Rev: Oh, Yes.
Andy: At Elizabethtown, I wound up at dice…
Rev: Oh, Yes.
Andy: Thought I’d try to work here where I’d been good, but you’re putting the tent
down.
Rev: Ask God’s help Mr. Cramed. Wherever you find yourself, he will show you the
path.
Andy: Could you help me to pray?
Rev: Oh…Lord, grant that I may seek rather to comfort than to be comforted, to
understand than to be understood, to love than to be loved…and the rest, I forget.

(Staggers off)
---
Dan: “ Why don’t you get a haircut, Adams? Looks like your mama fucked a monkey.”
Johnny: Just that affectionate?
Dan: Yeah, I’ve never seen Al warm up to anybody so quick.
EB: Which should persuade you then of what?
Dan: Well, you think it’s just tactics?
EB: The magistrate Al counted on to be his advocate in Yankton turned Judas. Adams
is the magistrate’s bag man. Al is merely probing Adams’ willingness to betray
the magistrate. In turn, his warmth is counterfeit.
---
(Al is on balcony – sees Adams and goes inside)

Al: (To Jewel) Where the fuck were you?


Jewel: At the Doc.
Al: Fix me a cup of coffee.

(Silas Adams enters, EB stands up and smiles like a puppy, Al struts toward him, looks at
EB)

Silas: Mornin’
Al: Shorn and groomed to a fuckin’ fare-thee-well. She’d never recognize you. Have
to smell you all over to know you was hers.
Silas: My monkey mother.
Al: Let’s take a table out of the traffic, huh?

(EB does his best impression of a Barker’s Beauty presenting them towards the table)

Johnny: (To EB) Just that affectionate.


EB: (To Silas) I trust you found your accommodations satisfactory, Mr.
Adams…Silas. If not, they could always be changed.
Al: (To Jewel) Uh, let me fuckin’ pour. He’s gotta make some distance before sunset.
What was your purpose at the Doc’s?
Jewel: I’m knocked up.
Silas: What message should I take to the magistrate?
Al: No envelopes and to fuck himself. I’m glad we had occasion last night to spend
some time together, so, when he asks if this is tactics or true position you’ll know
what to say.
Silas: I’ll know.
Al: You travel safe.
Silas: They believe you’re the man to deal with. Yankton.
Al: I am.
Silas: It’s just the magistrate looking to earn off that warrant. But no one else even
knows it’s out on you.
Al: Maybe the magistrate needs to die.
Silas: Maybe he does.
Al: He won’t come back here without a resolution. He’ll know what’s waitin’ for
him.
Silas: Maybe he needs to die there.
Al: Maybe he should. And the person who did it would only be at the beginning of
his usefulness to me.
Silas: That person didn’t come back with a warrant on you quashed would be a fool not
to think he’d be the next one killed.
Al: That’s why he’d be so useful to me thinking that far ahead.
Silas: Make your offer.
Al: A thousand for the cocksucker proved dead, a thousand for the warrant proved
lifted.
Silas: A thousand and a thousand. Think I am a fuckin’ monkey?
Al: You thought there would be twenty in it?
Silas: Kill Claggett and get you out from under that warrant? You’re fuckin’ right
there’s twenty.
Al: Do it for two. You’ve got to believe the job would open the door to your future,
and you gotta believe you’d make your ass hundreds of thousands back and forth
between here and Yankton.
Silas: 2,000.

(Hold two fingers up…spits in his hand and Al spits in his – they shake – pan to EB)
EB: I put him in a room above the privy.
---
(Up in Alma’s room at the Grand Central…)

Otis: I always thought it was gonna end like this, button. A rooming house in a mining
camp on Indian Territory, you caring for a Norwegian fondling and operating a
bonanza gold claim.
Alma: (chuckling) And you, Daddy?
Otis: Always a little sketchy about me. I hope I’m here to help.

(knocking)

Otis: Uh, that would be my room key. Sophia? (Hands Sophia a coin)
Richardson: Room 7.
Otis: Thank you, sir.
Sophia: Thank you.
Richardson: You’re welcome, little one.

(Closes door)

Otis: Oh my goodness, what’s that behind your ear? Don’t you ever clean behind your
ear?

(Pulls coin out – Sophia walks to Alma and shows her the coin.)

Alma: mmm.
Otis: Does caring for Sophia please you?
Alma: More with each day.
Otis: And do you have any of the gold?
Alma: As it happens…(pulls gold out of doll basket)
Otis: The well-mannered Mr. Ellsworth says these abound?
Alma: Yes.
Otis: There’s some talk that you did Brom in.
Alma: From his parents?
Otis: They have raised the possibility.
Alma: As it happens, I was not present when Brom fell.
Otis: You have to admit, it’s a suspicious sequence.
Alma: The man who was is in the camp.
Otis: Given their view of the marriage.
Alma: I doubt he tells the true story of how Brom died, but he would verify that I wasn’t
there.
Otis: I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s always about the money, button.
Alma: In certain circles.
Otis: But not here, hmm?
Alma: I suppose here, as well. In certain circles.
Otis: Mr. Ellsworth being the exception?
Alma: Mr. Ellsworth was engaged by a Mr. Seth Bullock, who’s been steadfast and kind.
Otis: And when did you path cross Mr. Bullock’s? Before Brom’s accident or after?
Alma: Mr. Bullock was asked to look to my interest by Wild Bill Hickok.
Otis: Who, if I recall your reading habits, has been an acquaintance of yours since
childhood. (Chuckling) I would very much like to meet this Mr. Bullock. Nearly
as much as I’d like to wash. (Gets up and walks toward the door)
Alma: Daddy.
Otis: Ah. (Hands back gold) I’m glad to see you.
---
(At Nuttall’s #10, Charlie is performing a fire safety inspection…)

Utter: Stovepipe directly into wood, no clearance or sheet iron in between.


Nuttall: What’s the significance?
Utter: Joint’s like to burn to cinders.
Nuttall: Well, then why ain’t it yet?
Utter: Dumb luck, Tom. Which you hadn’t ought to push, camp bein’ situated like it is,
everyone ass to elbow. Hazard to one’s a hazard to all.
Nuttall: Why, ain’t you startin’ to talk like a goddamn government official.
Utter: I’m Charlie Utter. That attended the same fuckin’ meetin’ you did. And bein’
they pinned fire marshal on me, I ain’t seein’ the camp burn to the ground. So
either cure your stovepipe violation or prepare to get levied a fine.
Nuttall: Well I’ll lick a bear’s ass before I’d pay a fine to E.B. Farnum.
Utter: Then separate your goddamn stovepipes from the goddamn wall!
Nuttall: Well, I—I’ll send one of my boys over to pick up the iron.
Utter: This ain’t the goddamn day of judgment, Tom. (leaves)
Nuttall: Jesus Christ Almighty! That’s the kind of shit that ran me out of Wilkes-
Barre.
Stapleton: Where the camp’s headed, Tom.
Nuttall: Maybe I’ll just fuckin’ move along.
Stapleton: Why is there no sheriff in this camp?
Nuttall: What?
Stapleton: All these official positions, why is there no sheriff?
Nuttall: Because Al Swearengen don’t want one.
Stapleton: Well, what if a sheriff took office that Al could trust not to bother him?
And you could lay head to pillow nights knowin’ he was your friend. Type of
man who’d go up to a fire marshal, say, and tell him and his so-called sheet iron
violation that hadn’t proven to be dangerous uh, for, what, goin’ on two months
now, should be waived? And whose ear’d be first to the ground when any
violence created maybe business opportunities? And who’d remember who got
him started.
Nuttall: I never thought of you as the type to be sheriff.
Stapleton: Nah, I’d be out of the mold, but uh, fit for the camp. My problem, Tom, is
uh…whereas he has a soft spot for you as a fellow pioneer, Swearengen hates my
fuckin’ guts. So knowin’ how grateful I’d be and all’s, I’d un, show it to ya,
wonder if you’d put in a word?
---
(Cy’s office – knocking)

Cy: Yeah!
Leon: Mr. Tolliver.
Cy: Leon, come on in. Your habit get the best of you a while, son?
Leon: It got the fuckin’ upper hand.
Cy: How’s your sight, Leon?
Leon: Whole left eye’s perfect and the right’s comin’ back. Have I still got a job, sir?
Cy: I’d dig to hear more from you, what you been up to, who the fuck with. That kind
of thing.
Leon: Aw, you probably know everything about everything already.
Cy: Be that as it may….
Leon: Well…me and Jimmy Irons, we stole the china man’s dope. Chinaman’s courier,
he lost his life. We slammed dope for a series of days, and Al Swearengen’s
tough captured us. And in the bathhouse, we drew straws and – and Jimmy irons
drowned.
Cy: Does that about cover it?
Leon: If you ask me specifics, I may be able to come up with some more details.
Cy: Was Al Swearengen holding the straws, Leon?
Leon: Yes, sir. He said to tell you what I seen.
Cy: And now is he holdin’ the strings on you?
Leon: Sir?
Cy: Are you here on his instruction?
Leon: I’m telling you what I seen, because you asked me to.
Cy: What’d they do with Jimmy Irons? They give him to the china man?
Leon: I guess they did. They wrapped him up and took him out. Swearengen turned me
loose, but he’d just give me this, (points to eye) so I stayed in the tub until I got
my bearings.
Cy: That’s a hell of a way to treat a white man, ain’t it, Leon?
Leon: Bein’ fair, I’d have to say, I gave Mr. Swearengen provocation. He traffics in
dope so I—I guess you could say that I’d stole his property and fucked his action
up.
Cy: I’m talking about Jimmy Irons. In connection with getting’ delivered to a chink,
regardless of his fuckin’ transgression.
Leon: Oh, I see.
Cy: And in that connection, I’m sayin’ it’s a hell of a way to treat a white man.
Leon: I see.
Cy: You agree with me?
Leon: Yes?
Cy: So it’s your own opinion, too?
Leon: Yes, sir.
Cy: Well, that’s your new fuckin’ job. Expressin’ your own fuckin’ opinion.
Leon: I can do that.
Cy: With conviction, Leon.
(Leon Laughs)
Cy: Your job is to voice your opinion with some oomph and some character behind
it…or you’ll wish you’d got drowned in that bathhouse.
Leon: Alright.

(They shake hands)

Cy: Welcome back, Son.


---
Nuttall: Oh, uh, well, uh, no, thanks, Al. I uh –or well, uh eh, yes, I will.

(Drinks a shot of whiskey)


Al: What’s going on, Tom?
Nuttall: Well, I—I thought you could uh, make Con Stapleton uh, sheriff, uh, bein’
it’s inevitable anyway.
Al: How the fuck did that get to be inevitable? I wouldn’t appoint that cocksucker to
empty my spittoons.
Nuttall: What I’m sayin’ is somebody’s gotta be sheriff, Al. Stapleton’s got points
in his favor.
Al: I hope one’s not gettin’ to recover the bribe he paid you when I don’t give him the
fuckin’ job.
Nuttall: Who’s your candidate, Al?
Al: Nobody.
Nuttall: Well that’s just postponin’ the inevitable.
Al: Tom, nothin’ Stapleton’s got on you can’t be solved by Dan Dority.
Nuttall: Well, uh, um…fill me up.
Al: Jesus Christ.
Nuttall: The – the truth is I—I feel like the – the camp’s gettin’ away from me, Al.
I got a fire commissioner who’s about to condemn my building, and we’re still on
Indian land.
Al: How does Stapleton becoming sheriff keep the camp from gettin’ away from you?
Nuttall: Well, I know him. Uh, he’d know I put in a word with you.
Al: What the fuck good is that to you, Tom, when the cocksucker can be bought for
two pieces of day old bread.
Nuttall: Well well well that’s right. That-that all makes sense. It, uh…eh, when
you just come up to this camp and hung your sign up for nickel booze and 50 cent
pussy…
Al: Them was get acquainted prices.
Nuttall: But the point is, I seen your fuckin’ tent. I walked over and I – I said uh,
“Hello.” I didn’t tell you—you gotta sheet iron your fuckin’ stovepipe.
Al: I didn’t have a stovepipe. And you had your knife at the ready if I didn’t make a
good impression.
Nuttall: Well that’s true enough, uh, but you didn’t.
Al: And Dority made a hell of a one on ya.
Nuttall: Uh, that – that, too, is – is true enough. Now, I just, uh…I feel like I know
the guy, Al.
Al: Stapleton.
Nuttall: Well, I don’t feel like I know anybody no more.
Al: Yeah, he can be sheriff for all I care.
Nuttall: Thank you, Al.
Al: Don’t count on him to be loyal, Tom.
Nuttall: N—No, no. Uh, just a familiar face.
Al: And no fucking paperwork.
Nuttall: Well, I don’t even know if he can write.

(Al laughs, Nuttall gets up to leave – walks to door, gets to threshold, turns back)

Nuttall: Could he be sworn in here, Al?


Al: Oh, for chrissake, Tom!
Nuttall: Well, he feels you don’t like him.
Al: He’s fuckin’ right as rain.
Nuttall: But it’d be a comfort to him, say, if he was sworn in under your roof.

(Al sees Trixie leaving the Gem)

Al: Let Farnum swear him the fuck in here then. But press your luck no further. Do
not expect me to fuckin’ attend.
Nuttall: Awful grateful, Al.
---
Trixie:Mr. Star.
Sol: Miss Trixie, pleased to see you.
Trixie:I threatened to pay a visit.
Sol: You spoke of lookin’ out for some building implements.
Trixie:I spoke of looking out for an ax and a say, and if I got ‘em, they wouldn’t be
applied to buildin’ nothin’. Anyways, would you want a free fuck?
Sol: Why would you say that?
Trixie:To know the answer.
Sol: Why would you say it that way?
Trixie:For chrissakes, Mr. Star, my cherry is obstructing my work. Sir…would you take
it from me, free?

(Sol closes door, take’s Trixie by the hand and leads her to the back of the store – sets
Her Up on some boxes and…bow chicka bow bow!)

Trixie:Uh…

(door opening)

Sol: Seth, you remember Trixie.


Seth: Oh, yes. Well, I just stopped for a moment.

(Seth picks up a clampy thing)


Sol: Oh yes.
Seth: I’ll lock up?
Sol: Oh, yes.

(They continue where they left off…Sol tries to kiss Trixie)

Trixie:Kiss my neck or my tits if you have to kiss somethin’.


Sol: Let me kiss you.
Trixie:Well you’re a goddamn Jew fool.

(They kiss)
---
EB: Do you swear before this witness to uphold whatever laws may be put in force
subsequently?
Stapleton: Yeah, if I can, yeah.
Nuttall: And don’t forget who your friends are.
Stapleton: Always.
Merrick: Gentlemen, uh, hold still. Take a breath, don’t move. One, two, three.
Very good.

(Dan rubs sparks out of his eyes in the background)

Merrick: Uh, gentlemen, Tom, I – I wondered if a second one might be appropriate


without that putrid apron around your midsection.
Nuttall: No. Uh, Let’s drink.
EB: (To Stapleton) Our health commissioner.
Seth: Whiskey.
EB: You’ve just missed my swearing in of the camp’s new sheriff.
Stapleton: Con Stapleton, sir. I’m not sure we’ve actually met.
Seth: You were at the table when Hickok was killed.
Stapleton: Indeed, I was. A horrified bystander.
Seth: We weren’t to have a sheriff.
Nuttall: Well, that’s been reconsidered as inevitable.
EB: Had you designs on the post, Bullock?
Seth: I don’t want the post.
Stapleton: Well, no hard feelin’s then. Consider me, at your service.
Seth: My wife and child are to join me from Michigan. Is Al in his office?
EB: Seems to be sequestered. He missed the swearin’ in, too.
Nuttall: He did want us over here though ain’t that absolutely correct?
Stapleton: Well, then why the fuck didn’t eh come down?
Nuttall: Well, why didn’t he come down? That’s unclear.
EB: To let you know exactly, I would guess, at whose mysterious pleasure you serve.

(Flash)

Merrick: A candid moment.


---
(Al watching from balcony)
Rev: Circumcision…is indeed profiteth if thou keepest the law, but if, uh…if thou are a
transgressor of the law, thy circumcision become uncircumcision. Therefore, if
uh, thy uncircumcision uh, keeps the uh, the righteousness of the lay, shall not his
uncircumcision that is by nature fulfilling his lay shall judge thee, who by—by
letter and uh, circumcision transgresses the law.
(knocking)
Al: Yeah!
Seth: It’s Seth Bullock. (enters) Why’d you let Stapleton have a badge?
Al: They sworn the cocksucker in yet?
Seth: Hurry down and toast him. Maybe Merrick’ll put his camera back up.
Al: No, I prefer to watch the fucking Reverend Smith preach to the oxen and the
horses.
Seth: It ain’t right for the camp. My wife and child are comin’.
Al: Bullock, it’s a ceremonial position to give comfort to Tom Nuttall, who feels the
camp’s leavin’ him behind. Putting a badge on Stapleton makes him feel he’s got
friends in high places.
Seth: That job shouldn’t go to a shitheel.
Al: Oh, as my feeling would be, it should go to a shitheel as it’s shitheel’s work.
Seth: Doesn’t have to be.
Al: No?
Al: Mr. Bullock, would you—would you sit down a second? I want to tell you
somethin’ about the law. Please. Please, take a seat. Separate from all the bribes
we put up, I paid 5,000 dollars to avoid being the object of fireside ditties about a
man that fled a murder warrant then worked very hard to get his camp annexed by
the territory, only to have them serve the warrant of him and to face the
magistrate’s pocket. The money goes, after which he sends a message. The
5,000’ll need company if I’m to be off the hook. I give you the law.
Seth: It doesn’t have to be like that.
Al: Now, if you were fuckin’ sheriff and you said “Do this, do that,” I’d consider it
‘cause you’re not a fuckin’ whore.
Seth: I have personal responsibilities.
Al: I’d go downstairs for that fuckin’ swearin’ in. And I’d follow your career, ‘cause
you’re one of those pains in the balls who think the law can be honest.
Seth: I don’t want it.
Al: Well, I do lots of things I don’t want to do.
Seth: You think you’re the only one?
Al: Well you should have been here when Tom Nuttall was pissin’ in my ear. I think
you’d be alright as sheriff.
Seth: Listen, I’m only talkin’ to you ‘cause my partner’s fuckin’ that whore.

(Al freezes for a minute)

Seth: Anyway…
---
(Seth leaves Al’s office and is coming down the stairs when Trixie comes back in and
starts to head up the stairs)

Trixie:It’s back open.


Nuttall: How was your talk with Al?
Seth: (To Stapleton) Congratulations.
EB: Good sportsmanship, Bullock.
---
(Al is back on balcony, watching the Rev.)

Rev: Who—who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall, shall affliction or
distress or – or persecution or—
(Looks to Seth)

Rev: or hunger or nakedness?

(Looks directly at Seth)

Rev: Or—or peril or sword?

(Walks past Seth)

Rev: Yea, in all these things, we more than conquer through him that hath loved us. I
am-I am persuaded that, uh, that neither life nor death, nor—nor angels, nor—
nor—nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present or things to come, or—nor
heights, nor depths, nor any other creature, from the love of—of God! And—and
Jesus Christ our Lord.
---
(Back at the hardware store, Seth returns…)

Sol: Seth
Seth: Sol
Sol: She wasn’t here in a professional capacity.
Seth: We have an agreement with Swearengen as to the use we put this establishment
to.
Sol: She came lookin’ for goods and things took a turn.
Seth: That can happen.
Sol: Not twice, though, at this location.
Seth: Yeah. Maybe I’m not the only one who should be looking for a place. Gonna
make an offer on that piece on the western slope.
Sol: Did you have another look?
Seth: Go ahead and get to buildin’ if Hostetler takes the offer.
Sol: Maybe have a leg up when Martha and your boy arrive.
Otis: Good afternoon, sir.
Sol: Good afternoon.
Otis: I am Otis Russell. Uh, would you be Mr. Bullock?
Sol: I’m Sol Star.
Otis: Oh. How do you do Mr. Star?
Sol: Very well.
Seth: I’m Seth Bullock.
Otis: Mr. Bullock. I am Alma Garrett’s father.
Seth: How do you do, sir?
Otis: How do you do? I’m very grateful for the kindness that you’ve shown my
daughter. I wonder if you would join us for dinner tonight.
Seth: I’d be happy to.
Otis: Oh, Mr. Star, will you join us?
Sol: Thanks, but I can’t.
Otis: Regrettable. Would six at the hotel be convenient? My daughter says that the
dinner hour is early.
Seth: Six is fine.
Otis: Just months that this camp came together, huh?
Sol: Yes, sir.
Otis: Remarkable.
---
(Jewel in the whore’s quarter sweepin’)

Jewel: Hi, Doc.


Doc: First thing to say, I regret the tone I had with you earlier.
Jewel: Okay.
Doc: If we hold with the Greeks that we’re made of humors, uh, I guess my bile was in
it’s ascendin’.
Jewel: Okay.
Doc: Sit down. Another thing…that the Greeks say – except I learned this in Latin is
“Primum Non Nocere.” And that means “First, do no harm.” And this has been a
great concern to me in your case. To interfere, even with the best of intentions
and have you misjudge your capacities ‘cause you rely on some mechanical
contraption and wind up hurting yourself, would be a poor use, indeed, of my
very limited skills. You can get around now, Jewel. I can only imagine with
what a difficulty and exertion and pain, but the moving around you can do is
precious to you. I do not want to fuck you up.
Jewel: No, we wouldn’t want that.
Doc: Having said that, and different from the…harness type attachments in that civil
war book, I thought we might try something like this.
Jewel: Let’s.
---
(Back at the Gem, Al runs into Trixie…)

Al: How was your visit, Trixie? How was the child?
Trixie:Had a good visit.
Al: Is the child conversant? Moving along from saying her name?
Trixie:Anyways, I better take my turn.
Al: No, you look good having gone out. You’re more relieved, more relaxed. We
can’t work all the time, can we? We all need some type of relaxation,
companionship or the like?
Trixie:Yes.
Al: You get away from me now. Hey Doc, how long were you planning on taking
before you told me what the fuck was wrong with Jewel?
Doc: Nothin’ nothin’ she wasn’t born with.
Al: mmm…I mean, she told me she was knocked up, but I assumed that was he gimp
sense of humor.
Doc: She wants me to brace her leg. So her draggin’ it doesn’t drive you crazy.
Al: So what’d you tell her?
Doc: Not to worry about your moods, that you generate those yourself and then find
your excuse for havin’ ‘em.
Al: Saucy words, Doc. Good thing you’re handy with the snatch.
Doc: I had an idea for a boot and just now measured her for it.
Al: If you treat her as successfully as you did the minister, she’ll be kickin’ up her
heels in no fuckin’ time.
Doc: I will leave you now to pursue another excuse.
Al: (To Johnny) Get that Jew over here

(Johnny does a quick 180 back out the door)


---
(At dinner in the absurd restaurant, it is cordoned off, reserved for a private dinner for
Otis, Alma, Seth and Sophia…)

Otis: My daughter tells me that before his murder, Wild Bill Hickok asked you to look
to her interests.
Seth: Yes, sir.
Otis: Had you ridden with, uh, Hickok on the plains?
Seth: I met him in the camp. I only knew him a few days.
Otis: And impressed him at once as being trustworthy.
Alma: They rescued a child in the wilderness and brought to justice one of the men who
murdered her family.
Otis: And um, how was justice meted out?
Seth: We shot him.

(EB and Richardson Enter)

EB: Slab of beef off the chuck. Bought whole carrots and little brown potatoes. Fresh
baked bread and rhubarb pie to come. Your repast awaits your mouths.
Alma: Thank you.
EB: Postprandial cigars for the men folk?
Otis: Oh, no, no, we have our own smokes.
EB: I hope you have brought ravenous appetites.
Alma: Thank you, Mr. Farnum.
(EB and Richardson leave)

Alma: (To Otis) He had something to do with it.


Otis: Would you prefer, Mr. Bullock, that Alma stay in the camp?
Alma: In any case, I’ve decided to stay.
Otis: As her advisor, I mean?
Seth: It’s Mrs. Garrett’s affair. If she wanted to go back east, her interest here could be
seen to.
Alma: But I don’t.
Otis: Well, and it would show her in a better light should title be contested.
Seth: The custom is if you give a claim your efforts and staked it or bought it fair
someone would have to go some to take it away. And we’ve taken steps to
demonstrate her activity.
Otis: And of course, if the New York courts had jurisdiction they’d sell the holdings to
the highest bidder.
Seth: Not many here would give a damn what a New York court held or didn’t. (Turns
to Alma) Excuse my language.
Alma: On the contrary, Mr. Bullock, Thank you for acknowledging my presence.
Otis: I thought, button, that you were our entire preoccupation.
---
(EB behind screen)

EB: The man’s a charlatan, Richardson, a cheat, a broad tosser and a clip. I only
wonder if the daughter’s been in it with him, or she’s his pigeon.
Richardson: May I look, Mr. Farnum?
EB: Yes, when you’ve grown a full head of hair. The brass that would be, to gull your
own flesh and blood.
---
(At the Gem, Sol has arrived to meet with Al…)

Sol: Mr. Swearengen.


Al: You own me five dollars. If you ass-fucked her, you own me seven.
Sol: No.
Al: You didn’t ass-fuck her?
Sol: I’m not paying you. It wasn’t to do with you, it wasn’t business.
Al: Trixie! Don’t you think I don’t understand. I mean, what can anyone of us ever
really fuckin’ hope for, huh? Except for a moment here and there with a person
who doesn’t want to rob, steal or murder us? At night, it may happen. Sun-up,
one person against the fuckin’ wall, the other may hop on the fuckin’ bed trusting
each other enough to tell half the fucking truth. Everybody needs that. Becomes
precious to ‘em. They don’t want to see it fucked with.
Sol: I won’t pay.
Al: You pay…or she pays. No home visits. Do your visiting on the premises, 5, (Sol
slides 5 coins across the bar) 7 for an ass-fuck.. (Sol leaves) (To Trixie) You get
back to work. You sleep tonight amongst your own. Another fuckin’ bottle.
---
(Upstairs in the hotel…)

Alma: (Looking out window at Seth and Otis) If we had a kitchen, Sophia, after supper
we’d have retired to it, to chores and gossip on the most minute domestic matters,
while the men walked and smoked and argued more important matters. And,
incidentally, decided our fates.
---
(Out in the street, Otis and Seth are enjoying a cigar and walking along the busy
street…)

Otis: Understandable, her late husband was so taken with my daughter. I didn’t know
him very well, but I certainly recognized his doting infatuation.
Seth: I didn’t know him at all.
Otis: I admit that I had hoped she might find a man who would dote on her and more,
perhaps had a surer sense of what the world was. And, apparently, I’m entitled to
hope that again.
Seth: My wife and son will be joining me soon.
Otis: I’m long past judgment, Mr. Bullock, and I’ve learned that, no matter what people
say, or how civil they seem, their passions rule. I see no reason why your wife
and son’s arrival need alter my hopes for my daughter’s happiness or security or
the security of her holdings.
Seth: I’ll say goodnight, Mr. Russell. With thanks, for dinner.
Otis: That will disappoint Alma. I’m sure she didn’t think she was saying goodnight
when we left for our walk.
Seth: She’ll be alright.
Otis: If I have offended you Mr. Bullock, I’ve accomplished the opposite of my
intentions, which would not be an unprecedented result.
Seth: I just want to say goodnight.
Otis: Of course. Goodnight Mr. Bullock.
Seth: Goodnight then.
Otis: Trust me to explain to Alma, I’m a practiced and inveterate liar.
---
Alma: (Looking out the window at her father) If we didn’t hate them too much to be
curious about the world, we’d wonder what they’d had to say.
---
(At the Bella Union…)

Cy: Craps! Loser! Line away. You’d better not need them fingers, hoss, if you spill
that drink on my goddamn felt, too.
Eddie: Hand that stick to a Captain of the floating table, Cy.
Cy: Eddie Sawyer.
Eddie: Back in action if you’ll have me.
Cy: Well, alright.
Eddie: You need to take it back about that boy, Cy. Me bein’ interested that way.
Cy: Aw, hell, Eddie, you know me. I get in a brown study, I’ll say any goddamn thing
that comes to mind – withdrawn, with apologies.
Eddie: Comin’ out. New Shooter.
Leon: (Loudly) Are we that far west that we’ve wound up in fuckin’ China? Where a
white man kowtows to a celestial like that arrogant cocksucker Wu!
Cy: Take it easy, Leon.
Leon: Sticks in my craw, Mr. Tolliver. Do I have my weaknesses? Yes. But I will not
have a fuckin’ chink courier rob me blind and have my friend Jimmy Irons robbed
blind in the course of feedin’ off our fuckin’ weaknesses or have that courier’s
fuckin’ chink boss—issue an order to Al Swearengen that’s supposed to be so
fuckin’ tough to turn one of us over! Swearengen kowtows and turns one of us
over to be eaten by the fuckin’ Chinese pigs! This fuckin’ gets to me. I can’t put
it out of my fuckin’ mind.
Cy: Leon, Leon, Leon. Thin it out, Leon. Prune the patter down, hmm?
Eddie: For the winner, pay the field.
Joanie: Hi, Eddie.
Eddie: Hi, Kitten.
Joanie: You and Cy reconciled?
Eddie: Thick as thieves. And if I weren’t as good at what I did you’d see I just palmed
80 in chips for the Joanie Stubbs construction fund. (Thumbs nose)
Joanie: Hi, Cy.
Cy: Hi, Joanie. What are you doin’ givin’ Joanie the office, Eddie?
Eddie: Sayin’ “Welcome Home.”
Cy: Are you home, honey?
Joanie: I gave up waiting for that search party you didn’t send, Cy.
Cy: Mind if I show Joanie my peacock, Eddie? Find land for your plot yet?
Joanie: I’m still looking. I see the pest tent’s coming down.
Cy: Ah, it’s too far off ‘til the camp expands. You’d want a more central plot, say
frontin’ Cochran’s Alley.
Joanie: Well, those all seem took by the Chinese.
Cy: Well, you never know how that shit’s gonna shake out.
Leon: Those Chinese cocksuckers!
Eddie: A new shooter comin’ out!
---
(Seth arrives back at the hardware store…)

Seth: That man’s not here to help his daughter. He’s lookin’ to root at her claim. You
went to see that whore again?
Sol: I guess she had to account for her bein’ outside and Swearengen sent for me to
pay him his fee. I guess she’d told him where she’d been.
Seth: It might have been me he found out from, Sol. ‘Cause I’m sometimes that stupid.
Sol: You think it could have been you?
Seth: I’m sure it was, speakin’ without thinkin’, justifying being in this place.
Sol: Bein’ you’d been ousted from your own.
Seth: I was hot seein’ that tinhorn Stapleton gettin’ installed as sheriff, and I used poor
fuckin’ judgment.
Sol: Sorry Mrs. Garrett’s Pa turns out a shitheel.
Seth: Cold enough world without gettin’ gone against by your own.
---
Al: Now, I see what the fuck’s in front of me, and I don’t pretend it’s somethin’ else.
I was fuckin’ her and now I’m gonna fuck you, if you don’t piss me off or open
your yap at the wrong fuckin’ time. The only time you’re to open - you’re
supposed to open your yap is so I can put my fuckin’ prick in it. Otherwise, you
shut the fuck up. Now, hold onto that, huh? (Hands bottle over) Point is, the
minister’s gotta fuckin’ die. I mean, that’s the—that’s the fuckin’ point. He’s
gonna die sooner or later I mean, he’s makin’ a fuckin’ jerk of himself, and, I
mean, well, why—why go on with that? Who’s—who’s gonna benefit from that,
huh? No, you just gotta kill it and put an end to it. You -- you don’t linger on
about it, you don’t fuckin’ go around weepin’ about it, and you don’t, you know,
behave like a kid with a sore thumb, you know, a loco suckin’ it, now “mmm, my
poor fucking thumb!” I mean, you—you gotta behave like a grown fuckin’ man,
huh? You gotta shut the fuck up. Don’t be sorry, don’t look fuckin’ back,
because, believe me, no one gives a fuck. You understand?
Whore: Yeah.
Al: You shut the fuck up, huh? Gimme that! (Grabs bottle) Hey, you suck my dick
and shut the fuck up, huh? Come here. Come on. Now then, here. The place
where I found you, huh, is where this warrant’s from. Could you believe that I
may have stuck a knife in someone’s guts 12 hours before you got on the wagon
we headed out for fuckin’ Laramie in? No! Because I don’t look fuckin’
backwards. I do what I have to do and go on. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,
whoa, what? You got a stagecoach to catch or somethin’, huh? Slow the fuck up.
Did you know the orphanage part of the building you lived in, behind it, she ran a
whorehouse, huh? Oh, so you knew? So, so what are you fuckin’ lookin’ at then,
huh? God. Now, I’ll tell you somethin’ you don’t know. Before she ran a girls
orphanage, fat Mrs. Fucking Anderson ran the boys orphanage on fucking Euclid
avenue, as I would see her fat ass waddling out the boys dormitory at 5 o’clock in
the fucking mornin’, every fuckin’ morning she blew her stupid fuckin’ cowbell
and woke us all the fuck up. And my fuckin’ mother dropped me the fuck off
there with 7 dollars and 60 some odd fuckin’ cents on her way to suckin’ cock
in…in Georgia. And I didn’t get to count the fuckin’ cents before the fuckin’
door opened, and there, Mrs. Fat Ass Fuckin’ Anderson, who sold you to me. I
had to give her 7 dollars and 60 odd fuckin’ cents that my mother shoved in my
fuckin’ hand before she hammered 1,2,3,4 times on the fuckin’ door and scurried
off down fuckin’ Euclid Avenue , probably 30 fuckin’ years before you were
fuckin’ born. Then around Cape Horn and up to San Francisco, where she
probably became Mayor or some other type success story, unless by some fucking
chance she wound up as a ditch for fuckin’ cum. Now, fucking go faster, hmm?
(grunting) Okay, go ahead and spit it out. You don’t need to swallow. You just
spit it out. Mmm. Anyways.
Cast:
Timothy Olyphant Seth Bullock
Ian McShane Al Swearengen
Molly Parker Alma Garret
Jim Beaver Ellsworth
Brad Dourif Doc Cochran
John Hawkes Sol Star
Paula Malcomson Trixie
Leon Rippy Tom Nuttall
William Sanderson Eustis Baily (E.B.) Farnum
Robin Weigert Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown Dan Dority
Dayton Callie Charlie Utter
Sean Bridgers Johnny Burns
Larry Cedar Leon
Kim Dickens Joanie Stubbs
Zach Grenier Andy Cramed
Peter Jason Con Stapleton
Ricky Jay Eddie Sawyer
Geri Jewell Jewel
Jeffrey Jones A.W. Merrick
Ashleigh Kizer
Ray McKinnon Reverend H.W. Smith
(as Raymond
McKinnon)
Ralph Richeson Pete
William Russ Otis Russell
Bree Seanna Wall Sophia Metz
Titus Welliver Silas Adams

Publicity images & episode content © 2004 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved.
HBO and Deadwood are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2004
Cristi H. Brockway. The copyright claimed by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her
personal contribution of material not contained in the episode from which this transcript
was compiled. Any commercial use of this transcript is expressly prohibited.
Episode 12 - “Sold Under Sin”
(We see Al on porch, Dan brings him coffee)
---
Rev: My darling wife, I have 68 dollars put by (panting) our belly cleaveth to the earth
(panting) I hope to be home soon Amanda. I’ll help with the cider pressing.
(groaning – seizure). Our soul is bowed to the earth.
---
Al (to Dan): Tell Johnny brew some coffee, open some peaches.
---
Johnny: Who are they?
Dan: It’s that magistrate, some with soldier saddles.
Johnny: Al knew they was comin’
Dan: Well, he knew somethin’ was comin’.
Johnny: I’d about decided he just couldn’t sleep without Trixie.
---
Magistrate Clagett: General Crook bear’s victory’s garland for having routed
the miniconjous at Slim Buttes.
Al: Well done, General.
General: The first meeting out of recompense for the massacre at the Little Big
Horn. Am I right in saying that I saw you last year in the hills?
Al: Amongst them you gave the boot to? Said you’d see us back once the treaty got
amended.
Magistrate Clagett: The day the general spoke of…fast approaches, even now he’s
called to Camp Robinson…
Johnny (to Dan): (whispering) I’m waiting for Al to collect Claggett by the scruff of the
neck.
Magistrate Clagett: He and his men would require some resupply and respite.
Al: Stopped at the right fuckin’ place.
General: Respite, Mr. Swearengen, short of the men becoming dissolute or drawn to
desertion.
Al: Unsaddled, allowed to gamble, roll in the dust, hmm?
General: But not so they’d balk at reharness.
Al: I’ll make your feelings known to the other operators.
General: I and my fellow officers would be grateful now for the use of the
bathhouse.
Al: Mr. Burns here’ll steer you. For those that avenged Custer, if it ain’t to dissolute,
the camp will want a parade.
General: A parade is alright.
Al: Forego your bath a moment Magistrate. Unless you want a girl to sponge you
while we converse. So did young Adams deliver my message?
Magistrate Clagett: I haven’t seen young Adams.
Al: No?
Magistrate Clagett: I haven’t been to Yankton. I’ve been representing the territory in
the treaty
negotiations.
Al: Well, as to bribing you further for help with that warrant against me, beyond the
5,000 you’ve already pocketed, the gist was fuck yourself.
Magistrate Clagett: Do now you reconsider?
Al: No Magistrate, I do not. Not if you’ve seen Adams or if you haven’t seen
Adams.
Magistrate Clagett: Well, that would be imprudent, Al. A failure to properly value
your freedom in the promising days ahead.
Al: Maybe you don’t value keeping your fucking guts inside your belly enough.
Magistrate Clagett: Those are the days behind us.
Al: No, those are the days to my fucking left.
Magistrate Clagett: I didn’t generate the warrant. My disappearance won’t quash it.
You can’t murder an order or the telegraph that transmitted it, or those that are
content to put food on the table simply by being its instruments. It can’t be done.
Al: Get the fuck out of my joint.
---
Merrick: Although this may appear to be a purely fortuitous accident, you’re not in this
Johnny Burns --- I would be less than honest if I did not admit that I was, in fact,
lying in wait, in ambush, if you will.
General: Sir make your first effort count.
Merrick: Seconds away. Now, General, your most victorious smile…..Alright.
Stern and resolute.
----
Al: This bloated tick, Claggett, feeding on the neck of the fucking Military.
Dan: I guess he bought his bag man back.
Al: Who I commissioned to kill him. He proclaims their paths never crossed.
Dan: Guess he would.
EB: Can you imagine Al, that as mayor, I might like to learn the cavalry’s in camp,
other than by comin’ upon them posing for photographs in the goddamned
thoroughfare.
Al: Calvary’s in camp, EB.
EB: At whose behest?
Al: The people, as always.
EB: To what purpose?
Al: A parade’s in the offing. They’ve had a victory over the dirtworshippers. Will
you lead the Hosannas?
EB: Well, I suppose that’s part of my mandate. (priceless look on Dan’s face)
Might’n I also coordinate satisfaction of the forces logistical needs?
Al: I hope you charge something for your service.
(Doc walks in)
EB: Calvary’s in camp Doc. May I number you in the reception committee?
Doc: Fuck the cavalry and the committee that receives ‘em.
Trixie:Hi Doc.
Al: (Pointing to Dan., chewing a peach) Fuckin’ Magistrate don’t go back to Yankton
alive.
Doc: Trixie, seen Jewel anywheres?
Trixie:Common room, sweepin’
Dan: Hey Doc? What you got in your tote sac?
Doc: Lettuce.
---
Doc: Set your broom to one side and sit down. I said put your broom aside.
Jewel: You have to remove it from my clutches.
Doc: OK, Alright. I make this stipulation. You develop any stiffness or numbness, you
report these. You do not conceal these symptoms in order to sustain your hopes
for the miraculous benefits of your fuckin’ boot.
Jewel: That’s my fuckin’ boot?
Doc: You lose a leg, your other conditions will prevent you from moving around at all,
and I will not have you lost the mobility that you do have for the sake of a few
weeks illusion.
Jewel: I’ll report stiffness or numbness.
Doc: Alright. AND PAIN OR DISCOMFORT! DON’T YOU BE THE DOCTOR!
YOU REPORT THE SYMPTOMS, I WILL DETERMINE THEIR
SIGNIFICANCE!
Jewel: Don’t yell Doc!
Doc: I am yelling because I want to make sure you goddamn understand me.
Jewel: I do. I understand.
Doc: Alright. Here’s your goddamn boot.
Jewel: Help me put it on.
---
Al: Walk in unannounced is a good way to get yourself killed, Doc. Especially as the
cavalry has us besieged.
Doc: I’m here about the minister. He’s over at my place, past my art if I had any. He’s
damn near blind and mostly paralyzed. Past controlling his functions.
Al: Well you’re preachin’ to the fuckin’ converted. I mean, I would’ve seen to him,
but I’ve been fucking busy.
Doc: Well, he doesn’t want to be seen to like that.
Al: What the fuck are we talking about?
Doc: A man being cared for and made comfortable ‘til he expires. Girls you put to the
task, deduct your time from my pay.
Al: I get the bag of shit.
Doc: You get to care for a human being in his last extremity.
Al: I human being in his last extremity is a bag of shit.
Doc: Aw, FUCK YOU AL!
Al: I’ll send someone over to pick him up.
Doc: I made Jewel a brace and a boot.
Al: Does it allay the fuckin’ noise she makes when she drags her leg about?
Doc: The noise bothers you so much, put cotton in your ears.
Al: Get the fuck out of here, Doc, huh? I’m working on my deployments and
flanking maneuvers. How about the other one?
Doc: Trixie’s fine.
---
Al: Johnny! Take the sled to Doc Cochran’s and collect the fuckin’ minister and
install him in the whore’s quarters. Tell that other one to make up the fuckin’
room.
Johnny: Trixie?
---
Leon: These rags were fine broadcloth shirts before I brung ‘em to launder, huh?
Chinaman: six, six bits
Leon: No, no, you told me….
Cy (to Stapleton): Looks like a deteriorating situation Sheriff.
Stapleton: Yup. Too frequent to be born. Down right intolerable.
Leon: Six bits a goddamn piece, you hear me? What the fuck you talkin’ about? Look
at this goddamn shit. What is that?
Stapleton: I hope that slant eyed cocksucker’s look ain’t as arrogant close up as it
appears from this distance!
Leon: Smells like shit. You celestials are tryin’ to wash our shit in goddamned feces!
---
Otis: Mining gold Alma, is a different business from panning it in a stream. The
machinery involved, wages, it demands capital. If, as seems clear you’ve
determined to stay, I could see after your requirements in NY, secure your
holdings credit as its eastern representative. Would that please you?
Alma: I – I don’t know, Daddy. I’m not sure it would.
Otis: Why not?
Alma: I’m not sure I can explain beyond saying the prospect frightens me.
Otis: Must the pretense of my behavior generating from paternal concern be abandoned
so quickly?
Alma: If you acknowledge what else it generates from, I’ll not abandon the idea at all.
Otis: From my debts. Of course.
Alma: You said they’d been entirely satisfied.
Otis: They had, entirely. Those debts.
Alma: These are debts you hadn’t admitted?
Otis: No, these are debts I incurred subsequently. We might call them the children of t
he debts that I admitted to.
Alma: Generating from the interest on the previous debts.
Otis: Alma, watching you struggle with what is beneath your spirit to understand is
always painful for me. After you got me out of debt, I got myself back in.
Alma: Having volunteered a promise you had…wept and volunteered.
Otis: Conceive my own disappointment.
Alma: Oh, Daddy.
Otis: 47,000 button.
Alma: 47,000?
Otis: Has scale doesn’t it? Certainly there’s something to that.
Alma: Who would give you that much credit?
Otis: My daughter becoming a Garrett raised me in the lender’s estimation.
Alma: I could borrow that much against the claim.
Otis: In an instant…and considerably more.
Alma: Alright, Daddy. But in consideration you will remove yourself from further
connection to the venture. I’ll have that in writing before I help you.
Otis: No darling. You’ll help me and you’ll have no such thing.
Alma: Get away from her. Get away from her!
---
Utter: Meal’s on me young lady.
Joanie: Why thank you, sir.
Utter: My friend Jane repaid some money I thought never to see. Plus that two dollars
some odd for Mrs. Garrett give that girl. Fines she levied against herself for
sayin’ “fuck” or the like.
EB: Something amiss Mrs. Garrett? Has the Child took ill?
Utter: I’ll give her the money later.
---
Sol: Seth.
Seth: What is it Mrs. Garrett?
Sol: Seth, I’ve got to go do that….thing.
Seth: What is it?
Alma: Whatever impression my father has made on you, please believe me Mr. Bullock,
who has known him longer, that he is here in his own interest and against mine
and this child’s.
Seth: I do.
Alma: And I need your help. I’m asking for your help.
Seth: You have it.
---
Merrick: Having confessed to the miserable outcome of my commemorative effort,
I’ll throw myself on General Crook’s mercy and ask for a second
opportunity.
Sol: I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t give it to you. They love….(HW Store door opens)
To have their pictures taken. (Runs off to meet Seth) What happened?

Seth: Get away from me, Sol.


Sol: What is it?
Seth: Get away.
Sol: Should I stay with her at the store?
Seth: Please.
---
EB: Anti-meridian constitutional Mr. Russell, or will we roll the bones again?
Otis: It must cost you sleep, the guests you drive off, the chances of theivin’ and bilkin’
you lose needing to rub against your betters.
Seth: You and I are gonna talk.
Otis: You don’t account for my preferences Mr. Bullock?
Seth: I will beat you here in the street.
Otis: First rate thinking. My daughter’s agent beats her father in the street. How better
to condemn Alma to deepened suspicion as to her role in her husband’s violent
death. And widen suspicion to include yourself.
Some Guy: Shoot craps Mr. Bullock?
---
EB: I know what’s in the till.
---
Otis: Were you bullied, Mr. Bullock, when young and incapable? Now you se wrongs
everywhere and bullying you feel called to remedy? (to Eddie) Ten lay due.

Eddie: New Shooter comin’ out.


Otis: The bully who oppressed your youth. Isn’t at the table with us. Perhaps he’s long
dead.

Eddie: Eight.
Otis: If you would view the present with more clarity, perhaps you’d recognize that I’m
not victimizing my daughter, but merely asking for a small portion of the ample
proceeds…from her veins.
Eddie: Seven out.
Otis: Alma is hurt only in your particular view of things. -- (To eddie) Ten again, lay
due.—and while I’ll sign no guarantee not to return against any future claim on
her compassion, realize I do hate it here. And if you inhale and expel pure
righteousness, my olfactories are keen to the smell of shit.
Eddie: Six, the point is six.
Otis: Having heard all that, and knowing, as you must, the injudiciousness of making
an enemy of a man who could testify truthfully that 5 minutes before her
marriage, he heard his daughter wish her prospective husband dead, and who
won’t shrink from lying as to what she admitted to him on his arrival in this
cesspool as to her complicity in her husband’s murder. I suppose you’d best take
your swing.
Eddie: Gentlemen. Watch the felt.
Sol: Seth! Seth! Seth!
Seth: Alright. Leave this camp, and draw a map for anyone who wants to believe your
fuckin’ lies. Anyone who wants to put your daughter or her holdings in jeopardy,
you show ‘em how to get here. And you tell ‘em I’ll be waiting.
Alma: Please…see to my father.
---
(Mr Wu Shouting)
Stapleton: Now gentlemen stay back! This ain’t no single shot derringer!
Leon: He tried to blind me with that lye Sheriff. I show him what he done to my shirts.
(Mr Wu yelling)
Leon: Fuck that monkey noise!
Stapleton: Alright enough! ‘Til I can sort out all the full particulars here.
Leon: You may be a big shot in this alley but you are less than a nigger to me!
(Mr Wu yelling at Leon)
Stapleton: Quiet! Or you’ll be subject to reprimand.
(Mr Wu yelling)
Stapleton: Take jurisdiction on this corpse!
(Mr Wu yelling)
Guy: Back off old man.
---
General: The Sioux and the Cheyenne having burned the prairie to deny us fodder
for our mounts. Our provisions limited to what we could carry. We
turned for the Black Hills when the rains began.
Crazy Guy: Where my Bay mare Sharon foundered, and he had her shot.
General: That march through mud was a trial sent by God. And harsh necessity
required of us much suffering and great sacrifice.
Crazy Guy: Ate our fuckin’ horses.
General: Continuing south, we proved out worth against the Indian. We came upon
a village at Slim Buttes, at once attacked from all four sides. Their
resistance was overcome. There were no prisoners.
Crazy Guy: Paid ‘em out man, woman and child for me, havin’ eaten my mare.
General: And after the village was taken, we found the gloves of Captain Keogh,
last seen on his person when he rode into battle with the valiant Custer.—
Captain---This is the guidon of the 7th cavalry captured by the Sioux at the
Little Bighorn. And now reclaimed by white men! Chief American Horse
and his village are gone, driven off. From this day forward….
Crazy Guy: Where’s that cunt?
General: Any Sioux who will not make peace at Camp Robinson…
Stapleton (To Seth): I’m glad you witnessed that transaction among the celestials. You
know they’ll bow and scrape ‘til 6 of ‘em get together, then no fuckin’ white
man’s safe.
General: ….to the progress of the United States, of which I am certain this camp
will soon be a part.
EB: Huzzah!
All: Huzzah!
Seth (To Stapleton): Next murder you do on an errand, gotta take off the fuckin’ badge.
Stapleton: Not certain I take your inference. And if I do, I’m not sure I like it.

(Seth takes badge off Stapleton’s lapel and throws it in the mud)

Nuttall: Leave it there you bought out sonofabitch.


---
General: Captain Bubb is the Quartermaster and commissary officer. Should he
deal with you?
EB: Exclusively. EB Farnum…
General: That’s Captain Bubb
EB: …Mayor, and as to procurement of everything listed your civilian counterpart.
---
Merrick: General Crook, Uh, I believe I have you verbatim, but if you’d just grant
me a moment to confirm?
General: Oh My God.
Merrick: Um, “The Sioux and Cheyenne, having burned the prairie…

(Seth pick up badge)


Merrick: “denying us fodder for our mounts and provisions…..will soon be apart.
---
Magistrate Clagett: You’ll find this hotel the least of all evils.
General: Does it belong to that mayor?
Bearded Cook Guy: Yes, but I can check you in.
Cy: General, Cyrus Tolliver. Small gesture of gratitude. I’d like you to
quarter at my place.
Merrick: (coughing) Brothel! (clears throat) Excuse me.
General: Well that portion to my use would have to be closed to other purposes.
Cy: (chuckling) Well, that’d make it a large gesture, but uh, we’ll work somethin’ out.
General: Send my trunk General Bubb.
Bubb: Yes, Sir.
EB: This is a tremendous number of provisions, Captain, But, of course, you’re buyin’
for full grown men.
---
(Wu enters Gem through back door, walks upstairs)

Soldier: I won’t do a two on one. Take turns like white men.

Seth (to Dan): I don’t care if the whole US Calvary walks in here, you don’t want to
pour another drink. You just want to listen to me, cause if the man doesn’t die
whose face I just broke, he’s gonna go to New York City and tell Brom Garrett’s
people it breaks his heart to say so, but his daughter had their son murdered. He’ll
tell ‘em. Knowin how he does, they won’t want their son’s rightful property in
the hands of the woman who killed him. He’ll swear to what he heard from her
own lips, and those society people in New York City who live with their heads up
their asses anyway, will believe him. And whoever they send out here may take
up to 15 minutes before they decide that you were involved in the transaction first
to last. It must have been you and your boss hired to push her idiot husband off
the cliff. ‘Course they’ll be wrong about Mrs. Garrett, but they’ll be right as rain
about you two cocksuckers. You tell him all that upstairs.
Dan: IF he don’t die.
Seth: If he don’t die. I don’t think I killed him.
Dan: Just so I understand you, if he don’t die, you’re sayin’ the man’s luck don’t have
to hold out. Now, that’s the message you want me to take upstairs.

Seth: I don’t swim in that shit.


Dan: You ought to pin that on your chest. You’re hypocrite enough to wear it.
Seth: You just tell him.
---
Al: When did you start thinking every wrong had a remedy, Wu? Did you come to
camp for justice or to make your fuckin’ way?

(Wu goes downstairs and exits through back door)


(Johnny drags Rev in)
---
Bam! It’s magically nighttime.
---
(Hardware Store)
Sol: I’m sensing you’ve done things today you wish you could amend, Seth.
Seth: What kind of man have I become, Sol?
Sol: I don’t know, the day ain’t fucking over.
---
Al: Under what provocation was that clown-hatted card shark when he slaughtered
the chink?
Johnny: I was head-down Al, towin’ that minister like a canal mule.
Al: Well, in the aftermath, when you raised your fucking head, did Stapleton act like
a fucking frightened man?

Johnny: More struttin’ like a dung heel rooster.


Al: Put-up fucking job. That fucknut Tolliver’s moving on Chinatown.
EB: That devious fucknut.
Al: Far as this matter Bullock commended to our attention.
Dan: Well, it’s the exact type of murder you preach, Al. head off trouble down the
road.
Al: You head off trouble down the road once you’ve dealt with the trouble on it.
EB: The trouble on the road, Dan, is Al’s enemy Magistrate Claggett’s cozy-seeming
connection to the military. If genuine, Al must decide. Ought he seek some
alliance with Claggett, how ever temporary or dissembled?
Al: At least until you’re paid for the army’s order.
Dan: They’re all in the same fuckin’ place. Tolliver, the widow’s father, Claggett. I
can take care of all of ‘em in one fell swoop.

Al: What about half of the Calvary while your talon’s are out, huh?
Dan: I’ll tell you, by God, you cut that fuckin’ general’s throat, you’ll…you’ll hurry the
pace of desertion.

EB: (chuckling)
Dan: Did I say somethin’ funny?
Al: That cocksucker Claggett’s bag man. (To Dan) Moderation in all things.
---
Soldier: Thank You
Sol: Thank you, sir.
Soldier: Much obliged.
Sol: Good Luck.

(Seth shakes Sol’s hand and leaves)


---
Cy: Full respect to the Magistrate Claggett general, eager as we are to get taken into
the territory, those wheels grind slow, while everyday in this camp and environs,
tens of thousands of dollars in gold get cleaned up, put into circulation. It’s an
environment to test the moral mettle if we was all members of some religious
organization. Which we ain’t. (Wine is offered to the General – he refuses) Are
we sure we can’t tempt you?

General: I’m sure.


Cy: A small fraction of your detachment left behind, a dozen or 18 men, say, would
keep the criminal element in check. Cash compensation, unrecorded.
General: To defend against threats from without, I suggest the camp create a militia.
For civil discords and property disagreements, have you hired a Sheriff?
Cy: (chuckling) yeah, we got one.
Magistrate Claggett: Did you say to me earlier Mr. Tolliver, that you imagined that the
chief use of the military presence was to buttress the Sheriff’s authority?
General: Such indirection for a tawdry purpose.
Cy: $50,000 in Gold. I want those soldiers, General. That direct enough?
Seth: May I speak?
Cy: Mr. Bullock.
Seth: I was a Marshal in Montana, my father served in the British Royal Army, and my
brother Robert was a Cavalryman, killed fighting the comancheros in Texas.
General: Why are you here Mr. Bullock?
Seth: A man named Otis Russell is laid up in this establishment. He needs protection.
General: Protection from whom?
Seth: Several in this camp. I beat him badly. Others have reason to wish him dead, and
the camp Sheriff can be bought off for half a can of bacon grease.
General: Well while we’re here, I will hold Mr. Russell under protection as a
gesture to your brother’s sacrifice.
Seth: Thank you, sir.
General: I would add, in a camp where the Sheriff can be bought for bacon grease,
a man, a former Marshal, who understands the danger of his own temperament, he
might consider serving his fellows.
Bubb: May I have a word General?
Seth: I’m through. Thank You.
General: We all have bloody thoughts. Captain Bubb?
Bubb: That gopher faced merchant’s agent he’s trying for our eye teeth, general. I’d
rather we provision with the fuckin’ Sioux. I have 3 men under guard for burying
their uniforms and 5 for bartering their weapons.
General: Bartering them for what?
Bubb: Women, credit at the table and prospecting tools.
General: Goddamn it. Form up the men. We’ll bivouac tonight outside of camp.
At daylight we head for Camp Robinson.
Magistrate Claggett: Please allow me to seek remedy in the manner of resupply,
general.
General: We move for Camp Robinson, Magistrate, with or without your company.
Magistrate Claggett: That I quite understand.
Cy: 12 men General. $50,000.
General: If I were Sheriff I’d have you hanged.
---
Joanie: I brought these.
Alma: Are these my father’s?
Joanie: Collected off the Bella Union floor. Maybe model replacements after,
maybe just remind him not to run his mouth.
Alma: Miss Stubbs, will you please come in?
Joanie: Oh, Alright.
Sophia: Joanie!
Joanie: Hi Sweetheart!
Alma: We will live though, that seems clear?
Joanie: Seems he will.
Alma: Mr. Bulloch was my agent in this.
Joanie: On our way from Syracuse to Indiana so my daddy could try farming, my
mama got cholera and died. He didn’t make any better a farmer than millinery
clerk, but he had a way enough with words to get me believing that my mama in
heaven wanted me to see to his needs. And then to add to the egg money by
seeing to the men he brought, and she wanted me talkin’ my sisters into seein’ to
his needs, and then to the men, ‘til he sold me to Cy Tolliver. If he was here, I’d
wish a beating mornings and evenings on my daddy, like your Pa took today.

(Knocking on door – women jump out of their skin)

Joanie: Oh.

(Alma opens door)

Seth: ….Evenin’.
Alma: Good evening Mr. Bullock.
Joanie: Are you hungry honey? Why don’t we go down to that little restaurant
and have some dinner?
Alma: Um, Sophia. You go with Miss Stubbs for dinner, Okay?

(Joanie and Sophia leave, Seth closes door)

Alma: Would you like to sit down, Mr. Bullock?


Seth: Until your father’s well enough to travel, I’ve asked General Crook to see to his
safety.
Alma: Thank You.
Seth: If he were to leave once he’s well and return to act against your interest, we’ll
deal with that then…..I stand before you a married man.
Alma: yes, to your brother’s widow, after he was killed. You took their 5 year old bout
as your own son.

Seth: Married.
Alma: Yes.
(Kiss Kiss Kiss)

Seth: If you’d um, if you’d be more comfortable behind the screen.


Alma: Wouldn’t that defeat our purpose?
----
Al: Young Adams. No Satchel, No Case? But now, don’t tell me you shrunk that
magistrate’s head so you can carry it around in your coat. And that warrant
against me now quashed, just peekin’ out of his tiny mouth?
Silas: I didn’t get the chance to kill him. He’d left Yankton by the time I got there. And
I figured I’d catch him here.
Al: Well maybe you’re here to implement his fuckin’ intentions against me.
Silas: I guess you chew at it a while, you could work out how it could be that way.
Al: Havin’ given me time as he has to escape my angry mood, if I continue to ignore
his fuckin’ extortions.
Silas: Is that how you left it with him? He’s comin’ back here to see you?
Al: Give you time to make up which side you’re on, Adams. If the cocksucker would
ever show up.
----
(Al & Rev & Johnny)

Rev: I, for that which I do, I allow not for…what I would that I do not, for---what I
would, that I do not, for---
Al (to Trixie): Get out.
Rev: But what I hate, that, too, I---now, if I would do what I would not, it is no more I
that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me.
Al: Johnny. Shut the door.
---
Doc: If was a more adaptable primate or one of your regular petitioners, I suspect I
wouldn’t feel this pain. I guess I—I’d have a wad of cartilage covering the
patella, protecting me from this—this discomfort.
Jesus Christ.
Jesus Christ, Just Please, God.
Take that Minister.
What conceivable Godly use is his protracted suffering to you? What conceivable
Godly use? What conceivable Godly use was the screaming of all those men?
Did you, did you need to hear their death agonies to know your—your
omnipotence? Mama! Mother find my arm! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy
they—they shot my leg off it hurts so bad. It hurts so bad.
Admitting my understanding’s imperfection, trusting that you have a purpose,
praying that you consider it served, I beg you to relent. Thy Will Be Done,
Amen.
---
Al: Whoa
Rev: Oh!
Al: Shh…
Rev: Oh, Oh, Oh—
Al: Shh…You want to be a road agent? Deal out death when called upon? Make a
proper seal, stop up the breath, apply pressure even and firm, like packin’ a
snowball.
You go now, brother.
Dan: Al, that...(choked up) Magistrate’s here. I-I got those other two guys waitin’
upstairs.
Al: join ‘em. (Closes the rev’s eyes) Get the sled for him, huh?

(Al, leaving room, wiping at tears)

Magistrate Clagett: Things are in the saddle, Al.


Al: Tell me what you mean upstairs, huh?
---
(in office)
Al: Adams, your employee, and his butler.
Magistrate Clagett: yes, how are you, Adams?
Silas: I’m alright sir. We missed each other in Yankton.
Magistrate Clagett: Yes, I was in the company of General Crook.
Al: Adams bore you the message to try fucking yourself.
Magistrate Clagett: And here he is in your office.
Silas: Well I figured I’d catch up with you here.
Al: Do you no longer serve his interests is what he seems to wonder. Adams, for his
part, is stone-featured, steeled in his purpose.
Dan: Which he’d be.
Al: Wherever his allegiance may lay. Well, be that as it may, Magistrate, living as we
all do in doubt, please proceed.
Magistrate Clagett: General Crook’s at the point of making a decision whether to
garrison some number of soldiers here. Or to leave the camp to find it’s own way.
I understand your strong preference in this regard. You must understand that for
whatever reason, General Crook has come to trust me. And rely on my counsel
exclusively. The appropriate gesture made by you towards me would lead me to
dissuade the general from the garrison option, as well as clear away from above
the cloud of uncertainty regarding your personal liabilities. Namely the incident
in Chicago.
Al: You have the document of inquiry from Chicago?
Magistrate Clagett: The murder warrant. Yes, Al. I do.
Al: On your person?
Magistrate Clagett: Yes. Make the appropriate gesture and the constable hand of the
past will no longer weigh upon you.

Al: What man couldn’t that be said about? (looking to Silas)

(Knife to throat – Slit! Spill – Whoops!)

Silas: I’ll be happy to give you this paper when you take that fuckin gun off me. Both
of them.
Al: Swaddle the cocksucker and dispose of him. His money and effects are yours.
Silas: That don’t count towards the 2,000.
Al: No I still owe you the two.
---
Seth: Crooks troops are mustering. I didn’t think you father would have to travel so
soon.
Alma: I don’t begrudge him an uncomfortable journey.
Seth: I’ll see him secured. After that he’d on his own.
---
(knocking)
Al: Doc! (knock knock) Doc!
Doc: It’s your---your competition. Or is that one of your fucking heresies?
Al: He passed.
Doc: Lemme help you bring him inside.
Al: A wily cocksucker, huh? Waited ‘til I got him off the sled, huh? I would have let
him lay in state, but I need the room for my whores.
Doc: Thanks for seein’ him through.
Al: Are you gonna probe into his noggin now to see what went amiss?
Doc: No, not tonight. Tonight I plan to drink in.
Al: Announcing your plans is a good way to hear God laugh.
---
Dan: I told him but we ain’t had time to act on your request yet.
Seth: yeah, I know.
Dan: ‘S been a busy night.
Al: Bullock, what is it?
Seth: We need to talk.
Doc: Right.
Al: Yeah OK. Doc, I’m gonna be a few minutes, huh? See this man gets his shine,
huh? Come on.

Jewel: Hi Doc!
Doc: How you doin’?
Jewel: No stiffness or numbness.
Doc: Well, let me see you move around a bit.
Dan: That’ll give you a shine (hands doc a shot)
Jewel: How do I look?
Doc: How you feel’s the goddamn question.
Jewel: I feel good!
Doc: Well, good.
Jewel: Hey Doc, give me a whirl.
Doc: no, no.
Jewel: Come on, I’ll teach you how.
Doc: no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, I won’t, mmm—no.
---
Seth: There’s a bloodstain on your floor.
Al: yeah, I’m uh, I’m gonna get to that. Crooks forces in full retreat.
Seth: Taking Mrs. Garrett’s father with ‘em.
Al: Up and about so quick.
Seth: He’s slung over a mule.
Al: Alive is my point. Dority give me to understand you’d just as soon as seen him
dead.
Seth: If that man comes back to the camp, he’d be my problem to deal with.
Al: The way you and Hickok dealt with Ned mason.
Seth: No. I’ll be the fuckin’ Sheriff.
Al: Startin’ when?
Seth: Startin’ now.
Al: You have the tin?
Seth: I do.
Al: Produce it. On the tit.
Seth: I know where it goes.
Al: (raises a shot) Huzzah.
---
Soldier: Hey General! You sonofabitch! Woo-Hoo-Hoo-Hoo-Hoo! Woo! Ha-ha-
ha-ha-ha!
Al: You know I’ve never spoken to her since she come to camp. You reckon that’s
another reason not to kill her old man, besides whatever’s goin’ on between the
two of you.
Seth: yeah.
Al: Anyways, Sheriff, I’m gonna walk past that blood stain that mysteriously
appeared and go oversee my business interests. Take your time.
----
Jewel: (kickin up her heels) Say “I’m as nimble as a forest creature.”
Doc: You’re as nimble as a forest creature.
Jewel: No, say it about yourself.
Doc: I’m as nimble…as a forest creature.

Cast:
Timothy Olyphant Seth Bullock
Ian McShane Al Swearengen
Molly Parker Alma Garret
Jim Beaver Ellsworth
Brad Dourif Doc Cochran
John Hawkes Sol Star
Paula Malcomson Trixie
Leon Rippy Tom Nuttall
William Eustis Baily (E.B.) Farnum
Sanderson
Robin Weigert Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown Dan Dority
Dayton Callie Charlie Utter
Marshall Bell Magistrate Claggett
Powers Boothe Cy Tolliver
Sean Bridgers Johnny Burns
Larry Cedar Leon
Peter Coyote General Crook
Rick Dano
Tim De Zarn (as Tim deZarn)
Kim Dickens Joanie Stubbs
Meghan Glennon Lila
Peter Jason Stapleton
Ricky Jay Eddie Sawyer
Geri Jewell Jewel
Jeffrey Jones A.W. Merrick
Michael David Lally
Al Leong Laundryman
Mike McGrath
Ray McKinnon Reverend H.W. Smith (as Raymond McKinnon)
Ralph Richeson Pete
William Russ Otis Russell
Bree Seanna Wall Sophia Metz
Titus Welliver Silas Adams
Zack Whedon
Keone Young Mr. Wu

Publicity images & episode content © 2004 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved.
HBO and Deadwood are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2004
Cristi H. Brockway. The copyright claimed by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her
personal contribution of material not contained in the episode from which this transcript
was compiled. Any commercial use of this transcript is expressly prohibited.
Episode 13
“A Lie Agreed Upon, Part 1”

Directed by: Ed Bianchi


Written by: David Milch
Episode 13: “A Lie Agreed Upon, Part 1”
(Outside of Deadwood, we see horses running, carrying a stagecoach. Inside, we see who we
now know to be Martha Bullock, her son William, Maddie and a set of three new whores seated
across from them. William looks excited, the whores looked bored. As the stagecoach jostles
them around, William is watching the cleavage on the third whore bouncing away. He smiles.
Martha catches him and kicks his foot. Maddie is looking out the stagecoach curtains. Cut to
the hills right outside of Deadwood where men are erecting telephone poles.)
---
(Alma’s room. She opens the door, Seth, on the other side, takes off his hat…)

Seth: Morning.
Alma: Good morning, Mr. Bullock.
Sophia: (Studying at the desk with her new tutor) Ox, Box, Fox.
Miss Isringhausen: Mr. Bullock.
Seth: Good morning. Good morning, Sophia. Sorry to interrupt your lesson.
Sophia: We’re finished.
Miss Isringhausen: No, we’re not, Sophia, and we’ll continue downstairs.

(They exit, Alma shuts the door after them.)


---
(Al’s office. We see the back of his head…)

Adams: Hills get divided into three counties. Each county has a commissioner.
Al: Appointed by fucking who?
Adams: The governor.
Al: When the fuck does that happen?
Adams: It already did.
Al: (Leans forward) Anyone I know?
Adams: (Shakes his head no.) They’re all from Yankton.
Al: (looks down) Well, being as you’re the bearer of unsettling news, why don’t you step the
fuck inside? (Adams closes the door) No one from the fucking hills, huh?
Adams: All Pennington’s people.
Dan: Saves time. Just travel to one destination, murder the three of ‘em. See how they like
being commissioner after they’re dead.

(Al considers this, rubbing his hands.)


---
(At the Bella Union, Joanie knocks on door #7. Lila opens the door a crack.)

Joanie: Coach coming, Lila.


Lila: With your friend and her girls?
Joanie: I don’t know. It’s still way up in the hills.
Lila: You want me to come watch with you?
Joanie: Oh, no, no. Well, okay. Well, do whatever you want, but I’ll wait outside for
you. (Walks off.)

---
(Alma’s room. She and Bullock are seated at the desk.)

Seth: All the invoices other than this mission from Hendy Iron have been acted on.
Alma: I see.
Seth: You’ll note I’ve made partial payment to them…
Alma: Yes.
Seth: Questioning a possible duplication.
Alma: For the bill hooks?
Seth: Yes.
Alma: Is that my worth?
Seth: That’s the amount on deposit. Your worth is considerably more.
Alma: Thank you for your attention in all these matters, Mr. Bullock.
Seth: (stands) You’re welcome.

(Alma stands and moves to turns away, Seth grabs her by the elbow and spins her around. They
kiss. Passionately. She starts tearing his clothes off.)
---
(Al’s office…)

Adams: He wrote you a letter. Pennington.


Al: That you held from me till now?
Adams: To say what I knew first.

(Adams sets the letter down in Al’s hands. Dan & Adam’s eyes meet, Al looks at them both.)

Al: Please be seated. (Dan & Adams sit, Dan takes his hat off. Al sets 3 shotglasses on the
desk, opens the letter, takes out a magnifying glass) Yes, it has fallen to this. (sighs)

(Adams grabs the whiskey bottle and pours two shots, looks over at Dan, nodding vigorously for
a shot. Adams pours the 3rd shot.)
---
(Downstairs at the Grand Central, we see A.W.Merrick shooing away flies buzzing around the
“food” in a pot on the stove. We can see through the restaurant into the main lobby where E.B.
stands behind the counter. Ellsworth enters.)

AW: Damn.
EB: Mr. Ellsworth! Is the Garret gold in readiness for shipment to Denver?
Ellsworth: That it is. (We hear banging coming from upstairs)
EB: I would expect a delay before the owner blesses its passage. While little Sophia is off
with her tutor, Mrs. Garret consults with Mr. Bullock.
Ellsworth: Alright.
EB: In Bullock’s capacity, of course, as her claim’s trustee.
Ellsworth: That’s all the cleverness on that subject I’m inclined to hear from you.

(Upstairs – Alma & Seth are, ”consulting,” very intensely. Alma is audibly pleased.
Downstairs, Sophia is reading from her lesson book…)

Sophia: Fat. (Plaster falls on the book from the ceiling.) Cat.

(More plaster falls. Miss Isringhausen stops, removes plaster from her lap and the book,
brushes off the table, removes bits of plaster from Sophia’s hairs and blows a bit more off. They
continue with their lesson.)

EB: Biscuits? Piping fresh.


Ellsworth: Yeah, when both of us was young.
---
(Al’s office, he’s still reading the governor’s note through the magnifying glass. He snorts,
sighs, picks up the shot and throws it back. Dan and Adams follow suit.)

Al: Ah!
Adams: Anyways, I could use a bath.
Al: (reading with the magnifying glass from the letter…) “I urge you, Mr. Swearengen, not to
take as injury to your interests my appointing only men from Yankton. For not being of
the region, such men serving as commissioners I hold less likely to obstruct those like
yourself who actively pursue their destinies in the hills. In those brave endeavors, be
assured of my best hopes, high esteem and continued gratitude for your gestures of
support. Governor Pennington.”
Dan: Well, that’s just the fucking sort – chop ‘em into pieces, and each of ‘em happily slithers
away, still lying to your fucking face.
Al: (to Adams) What am I to make of this, huh?
Adams: He don’t know yet what he wants to do.
Al: Knew what to do with them fucking bribes I sent.
Adams: That’s a gift they’re born with. Far as how hard to move on the camp, He ain’t
sure yet all he’d be going against.
Al: (looks at Dan) Maybe that is cause for cutting some throat.
Adams: That’d put you right where he wants you. If you got other ways to move on him
is what he ain’t clear about.

(Al slams his fist on the desk. Dan jumps. Al stands up and takes a nice long pull from the
bottle, heads to the balcony. Adams gets up to follow, Dan puts on his hat and quickly gets up to
follow them both. Back in Alma’s room, She and Seth are finishing up. Alma is showing her
dominance over Seth *wink wink nudge nudge*. Al is now out on his balcony, looking into the
hills a the telephone poles being erected.)

Al: Invisible messages from invisible sources, or what some people think of as progress.
Dan: Ain’t the heathens used smoke signals all through recorded history?
Al: How’s that a fucking recommendation?
Dan: Well, it seems to me like, you know, letters posted one person to another is just a slower
version of the same idea.
Al: When’s the last time you got a fucking letter from a stranger?
Dan: Bad news about Pa.
Al: Bad news! Or tries against our interests is our sole communications from strangers, so by
all means, let’s plant poles all across the country, festoon the cocksucker with wires to
hurry the sorry word and blinker our judgments of motive, huh?
Dan: You’ve given it more thought than me.
Al: Ain’t the state of things cloudy enough? Don’t we face enough fucking imponderables?
Dan: Well, by God, you give the word, Al, and them poles will be kindling.
---
(Alma is reclined back in bed, gazing at Seth, looking very sultry and “natural”)

Alma: After we’ve made love, are you sometimes happy?


Seth: (smiles) Because I get up from the bed, is that why you wonder? (Alma smiles, biting her
fingertip) I’ll intend something, come to myself realizing I’ve only stood or sat thinking
about you. Just now, that your toes are beautiful, when I’d intended to replenish the
kindling. (Alma giggles)
Alma: I was raised believing dereliction of duty is the one sure way to happiness.
Seth: So often with you I’ve been perfectly happy.
Ellsworth: (knocking on door) Can I start the shipment loading to keep the men from falling
to drink?
Seth: Yes, please.
Alma: (sits up) Now I believe in you. (She kisses him)
---
(Outside, we see the stagecoach set to carry Alma’s gold to Denver.)

Ellsworth: Start loading.


Al: Does Bullock think if I wanted, them four horsemen with rifles would ward me off that
woman’s gold?
Dan: Maybe it’s just precautions against the other operators.
Al: No precautions of his protect her. Them other operators forebear out of respect for me
and knowing what hot blood your blade would draw if they ever fucking presumed.
Dan: Well, he don’t intend it as insult. Uh, Bullock, that’s my point.
Al: Horror is you’re fucking right! He don’t know if it’s breathing or taking it in through
fucking gills. He is that fucking cunt-struck. (Bullock is outside now, approaches
Ellsworth) They’re afloat in some fairy fucking bubble, lighter than air—him, her snatch
and his stupid fucking badge. (A gunshot rings out, everyone but Al turns in it’s
direction) Where’s that from?
Dan: My guess would be number 10.
Al: Hope it ain’t Tom Nuttall taking the quick fucking way out.
Dan: No. No, there’s himself.

(Tom runs out into the street. Seth starts walking toward him. Al slams down the bottle.)
Al: Self-deceiving cocksucker I am, I thought when America took us in, Bullock would
prove a fucking resource…look at him, striding out like some randy maniac Bishop.
Sheriff! About his duties to the camp, huh? Luck trouble didn’t jump out earlier, huh,
Bullock? Might have found you mid-thrust at other business. (Seth stops and looks up at
Al.) What is it? Taken by a vision? You would not want to be staring like that – at me.
Tom: (To Seth) It’s only Bummer Dan. But I-I think he’s killed.
Seth: (Looking up at Al) Be where I can find you.
Al: I ain’t going no place.

(Al looks a bit unhappy with the way that all went, he seems to resign himself to it, and turns to
go back inside his office. Dan & Adams look at each other, and follow him in.)

Dan: I’ll, uh, go get my big gun.


Al: No, that ain’t how this wants to resolve. You go down, Dan, see to the cunt and whiskey,
huh?
Adams: You want me up here?
Al: You, go take your bath. (Dan & Adams leave the office.) You want a donkey’s
attention…bring a fucking pole down between his ears. (Slams his desk drawer shut and
walk out to the middle of the room) Jeez (groans) Ow, fuck! (Grabs his side)

---
(Cut to the No.10 Saloon. A body on the floor. Nuttall presents the body to Seth, Vanna White
style…)

Harry:No ways did I wish that man harm or take against him.
Seth: You did shoot him, huh?
Harry:Only on account of the jacket.
Charlie: I’ll hear it from the other drunks.
Tom: Harry mistook Bummer Dan for Slippery Dan.
Harry: That had pulled his cock out previous, started filling the cuspidor yon!
Seth: You will keep this short.
Tom: Well, uh, Harry shouts for Slippery to stop, but slippery cast his Johnson toward Harry
and pisses at him over the bar.
Harry:I pulled my gun, sheriff. I told Slippery, “Get out, you’re ruled off for the day. You
darken that door before dawn tomorrow, I’ll shoot you fucking dead.”
Tom: Harry’s shirt front’s urine-sopped still. (Harry pulls his shirt up for Seth to see)
Seth: But this is Bummer Dan.
Slippery Dan:(As Charlie hauls him in by the shirt collar) Oh my God, it’s true!
Tome: Well, that’s Slippery.
Slippery Dan:Bummer’s fucking dead.
Harry:They know that, you filthy piss-spraying beast!
Seth: Get up off your knees.
Sippery Dan: Oh my God, Bummer –
Charlie: Get up and tell your part of this.
Slippery Dan:My part, sheriff, was putting Bummer in my jacket and sending the poor fuck in
here.
Seth: To what purpose?
Slippery Dan:Thinking maybe if Harry winged one at Bummer mistaking him for me he
threatened to murder, it’d be funny.
Harry:What’s my liability, Mr. Bullock? Hey, ain’t getting pissed on provocation?
Seth: You didn’t kill you meant to, or mean to kill the man you did. (Turns to leave)
Slippery Dan:What’s my liability? Worse in some way?
Seth: Box him and see he’s buried. But I’m telling both of you, watch it!
Slippery Dan:May I retrieve my jacket off him, Deputy?
Charlie: Yeah, go ahead.
Slippery Dan:Gee, the worst fucking joke I ever played! Oh, why do I drink the way I do?
Charlie: He pulls that prick stunt again, shoot him!
---
(Seth is walking up the thoroughfare, Charlie runs to catch up to him…)

Charlie: Wait up, Bullock!


Seth: Private bidness, thanks.
Charlie: It won’t be private if Swearengen’s got his cappers at his flanks.
Seth: (Stops and turns) It’s private. Thank you, Charlie.
Shyster: Soap with a prize inside! You got any prizes in that meat there, captain?
(laughing)
Seth: This cocksucker.
Shyster: Friend, I got soap with a prize inside.
Seth: (Grabs the shyster and drags him away) You were told to keep an interval between
yourself and legitimate merchants.
Shyster: I-I keep my interval, Sheriff. It’s their increase what’s crowding me—
Seth: We’re gonna count out 25 paces. We’re at 14. Count them with me. 15!
Shyster: 15.
Seth & Shyster: 16, 17… 18, 19, 20…
---
(Bella Union Balcony, Joanie & Lila are outside. Cy comes out to join them.)

Cy: Why, Joanie Stubbs and Miss Lila. What brings you to the air this fine spring morning?
Joanie: Stage from Bismarck.
Cy: Bismarck, you say? Don’t the kid in all of us look forward to the new arrival? I still
tingle at the bottom of my balls. (chuckling) Who could it be? President Hayes? Maybe
it’s jugglers or face painters. Where do you feel it, honey?
Joanie: The bottom of your balls.
----
(Back inside the coach, William lifts up a cheek and lets one fly…)

Whore #3: Air’s gone a little fixed.


Martha: I guess we know who fixed it.
William: Excuse me. (Outside, a man is panning the creek) Look at the man in the creek,
Mama.
Martha: He’s panning for his fortune.
William: Won’t see Mr. Bullock in the creek, though.
Martha: No.
Maddie: Didn’t you say he was the Sheriff?
William: Part owner of Bullock and Star hardware, Sheriff of Deadwood camp.

(The coach clatters along the trail, spewing up dust as it passes by Calamity Jane – passed out
on her horse’s neck. She pulls herself upright…)

Jane: Cocksuckers! (She flops back down onto her horse’s neck)
---
(Trixie, at the door of the Gem, sees Seth enter, she runs out across the street to the hardware
store. Dan & Adams are on either side of the staircase as Seth approaches…)

Dan: Bullock.
Seth: Do I need to watch my back against you?
Dan: Al said to stay out of it.

(Seth walks up the stairs, Johnny watching from the bar. Charlie enters, stands at the bar. Silas
nods to Dan and they join Charlie at the bar, all watching the office door. Trixie enters the
hardware store…)

Sol: Good Morning.


Trixie:If you’d spare your partner a gutting, Mr. Star, you might make your way to the Gem.
Sol: (Moving to the desk) A gutting at whose hand?
Trixie:My boss called him out clear across the thoroughfare.
Sol: Unprovoked?
Trixie:He was seeing after Mrs. Garret’s interests – your partner – when my boss shouted.

(Sol pulls out the tiniest derringer in the world, checks that it’s loaded and puts it in his jacket
pocket. He grabs his hat and heads for the door...)

Sol: Would you lock up for me, please?


Trixie:Sure.
Sol: Your boss should do like me and learn to look the other way! (exits)
Trixie:It ain’t his line. (Locks up)
---
(Al’s office, he’s in the corner, trying to piss…Seth enters…)

Al: Age impedes my stream, no fucking fear of you.


Seth: Get in here.
Al: All in due fucking course, but tell me one thing first, Bullock, as I stand here fucking
humbled. Does the widow Garret have a going fucking hard rock concern and five-stamp
mill crushing gold out of her quartz all day and fucking night?
Seth: What?
Al: But does she cast her lot with the camp, furnish others here a chance to develop what they
got, to hang on or even prosper?
Seth: You pie-faced cocksucker. Get in here and account for your insult.
Al: Or, with you at her ear – among other points of entry – instead of doing your civic duty,
does she ship her fucking loot to Denver?
Seth: Civic duty? Opposed by her own and her dead husband’s family, to put her assets at play
in a camp with no law or government worth the name?
Al: See as here where she lives and struck lucky, civic duty? Yeah. And it’s time for her and
some others to quit their fucking shirking. Yankton’s making it’s move. (shouts) Ah, the
fucking thing!
Seth: Meaning what? “Yankton’s making it’s move?” Without more insults.
Al: We’re getting ass-fucked. Carved into counties, but not one fucking commissioner
coming from the hills.
Seth: How do you have this information?
Al: From the governor himself in a pricey little personal note. They want to make us a
trough for Yankton’s snouts. And them hoopleheads out there, they need buttressing
against going over to those cocksuckers. Now, I can handle my areas, but there’s
dimensions and fucking angles I’m not expert at. You would be if you’d sheathe your
prick long enough.
Seth: Shut up.
Al: And resume being the upright pain in the balls that graced us all, last summer.
Seth: Shut up, you son of a bitch.
Al: Jesus Christ. Bullock! The world abounds in cunt of every kind, including hers.

(Seth stares at Al for a moment, removes his badge, unhooks his belt. Al sighs.)

Al: Of course, if it would steer you from something stupid…I, uh, could always profess
another position.
Seth: Will I find you’ve got a knife?
Al: I won’t need no fucking knife.

(Seth turns and they commence to fighting. It makes it’s way to the balcony, they fall over into
the muck. The stagecoach approaches. Al looks up at Trixie. She runs inside.)

Trixie:They went over the fucking balcony!

(The boys grab their guns and head outside, where Al & Seth continue fighting. Cy, Joanie &
Lila are watching from the Bella Union balcony…)

Cy: Awful possibility in these matters is both men sustaining mortal injury.
Stagehand: Whoa!

(Dan whacks Seth in the head with the butt of his rifle…)

Dan: You looking to die, cocksucker?

(Dan aims his rifle at Seth – Adams runs to Dan & wrestles the rifle away from him…)

Adams: He ain’t your kill!


Dan: God damn you!

(Sol and Charlie come outside…Sol draws his “gun”…)

Johnny: Hey, hey. Hey, don’t come no further! Hey! (He fires and hits Sol, recocks his
gun and shoots Charlie)
Charlie: (Grabs his head) Jesus Christ!
Johnny: Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ! (shouting) Jesus Christ Almighty!

(Al pulls a knife from his boot, gets up and crouches behind Seth.)

A Man’s Voice: Where’s Bullock?


Whore #3: Fuck me.

(Martha covers William’s eyes…)

Al: I do have a knife. It come to me now.

(Seth looks up at Martha and William, sitting in the coach, watching)

Al: Hmm?

(Al looks up at William as Martha uncovers his eyes. William smiles at Al. Al points his knife to
the stagecoach…)

Al: Welcome to fucking Deadwood! It can be combative.


Cy: But I’m rarely that fucking lucky.

(Al is staggering away, Seth struggles to stand up. Alma saw it all from her window.)

Al: (To Trixie) Wave a penny under the Jew’s nose. If they’ve got living breath in them, it
brings them right ‘round.

(Martha gets out of the coach, approaches Seth…)

Martha: Mr. Bullock.


Seth: A happy surprise.
Charlie: No one’s dead. Mr. Star’s shoulder’s been hurt.
Cy: Ain’t that your high-end whore friend Maddie?
Joanie: Yes.
Cy: That I thought had took her snatch to New York?
Joanie: Yes.
Cy: Wonderful how folks can get around now.

(A.W. Merrick approaches Seth and Martha…)


Seth: Doc Cochran needs to come from Whitewood.
AW: Yeah. (Takes off his hat to Martha as Seth is leading her away…) A.W. Merrick.
Seth: Mr. Star and Utter should be taken to our store.
Trixie: (Helping Sol up) All right. All right.
William: (Puts his hand out to Seth) Hello, Mr. Bullock.
Seth: Hello, William. I’m all right. (To stagehand) I’d be grateful if you’d take their
belongings to a house I built on the west edge.
Stagehand: Mm-hmm.

(Seth manages a smile at William before he falls to the ground and passes out.)
---
(At the Bella Union, Cy opens the office door and shows Joanie and Maddie inside.)

Cy: Better let me hold Maddie’s chair, Joanie. (closes door) I need to make a fucking
impression. My lady.
Maddie: My Lord.
Cy: Lack of notice is my only regret.
Maddie: That’s my fault for giving Joanie none.
Cy: Were you hedging your bets, Maddie? (Throws a package at her)
Maddie: Feared losing my nerve all the way to the camp.
Cy: Then wondered, had that coach brought you to Gettysburg, huh? Gettysburgh – fucking
battle carnage.
Maddie: Yes, I wondered.
Cy: (shouting) What?
Maddie: Wondered.
Cy: (huffs) You secured that building, Honey, when? (throws a package at Joanie)
Joanie: November.
Cy: Got the building in November I guess you’ll be operating out of? Now I’d have thought
a trick would have been behind it, but Joanie’s fuck money has been going for Jewels.
How long have we had that understanding, Honey?
Joanie: Since I was 14.
Cy: I’ve been giving Joanie jewels for her fuck money since she was 14 years of age, and not
once did I come out ahead.
Joanie: Anyways.
Cy: Anyways…Since November, it looked to me the project lay fallow, but I guess it was just
germinating.
Joanie: Shall we talk in private, Cy?
Cy: (looks at Maddie) Would that be rude?
Maddie: Not at all.
Cy: I mean, a 18-year relationship between me and Joanie, - just one moment alone?
Maddie: Of course not.
Cy: Suck some pricks if you like. Keep whatever they give you as my way of saying
welcome.
Maddie: Any blind one’s out there?

(Cy snickers and laughs at this remark. Maddie leaves.)


---
(Back at the Gem, Barney is wrapping up Al’s ribs.)

Al: Jesus Christ!


Barney: That bandage wants to be tight, Al.
Al: That does it! Ask it if it wants to be wound around your fucking neck! Get away from
me, Barney!
Barney: Yes, sir. (Al wheezes, in pain)
Dan: (To Johnny) Fucking Adams.
Johnny: Restrained you, didn’t he?
Dan: Obstructs me in the thoroughfare. Now he wants to bill and coo.
Al: (Screaming, trying to get dressed) Fuck!
Johnny: What was that Jewish fella thinking, Dan, to charge at me with a purse gun? (Al
wailing)
Dan: That’s just an unfamiliar situation. He just overplayed trying to prove himself.
Al: Fuck, fuck.
Johnny: What was that whole damn thing about anyhow?
Dan: Al’s calling Bullock to the fold.
Johnny: Bullock ain’t even of Al’s flock.
Dan: Al’s gonna be calling numbers to the fold now that he can’t trust like us. Some he don’t
even like. We’re joining America. And it’s full of lying, thieving cocksuckers that you
can’t trust at all – governors, commissioners and whatnot. By God, that’s just the new
way of things. And you just gonna have to get used to it, Johnny.
Johnny: All right.
Dan: You gonna have to accept it and learn to control yourself.
---
(Cy’s office)

Cy: You get no argument from me!


Joanie: Okay.
Cy: It’s been me nudging you from the nest, young lady, urging you to take fucking wing.
Joanie: Okay.
Cy: Where did the money come from that bought that place? Your daddy sold me you for six
and a half bucks, so a rich relation is tough to swallow. It is respectful not to lie, Honey,
but any further silence will get me violent.
Joanie: You know where that backing came from.
Cy: A farewell gesture from Eddie Sawyer! I knew Eddie had been stealing from me, and
then he flees and you turn up owning our place.
Joanie: I don’t work here no more, Cy. You understand? No matter what.
Cy: Hmm. It’s kill you or let you go. (Joanie nods) Could I make it with you dead?
Joanie: Why try?
Cy: Look at that. (touches her face) Look at that beautiful smile. All right, darling. Let
me…let you go.
Joanie: Thank you.
Cy: (chokes) Shall we—(clears throat) All take air while Maddie hears the happy news?
(knocks a package to the ground) Let’s go get the fucking crone. I feel like a – a boy. I
feel like skipping. I’m that fucking hopeful and excited for you. (chuckles)
---
(Cut to Flora-vision in the hardware store…)

AW: Doc, hot water.


Doc: Tell Wu that that drunk better not get ate by his pigs until I have had my way with the
corpse.
Sol: I’m braced, Doc, if you want to start digging.
Doc: Momentarily.

(Seth is propped up, watching all the goings on through Flora-vision, he looks over and finally
sorta-focuses on William…)

Charlie: Oh, Thank you, Ma’am. The ringing…

(William waves at Seth)

Seth: I’m all right, William.


William: Where are you gun and badge, Mr. Bullock?
Seth: It was personal between me and the man I fought, so I took them off.
William: But he kept a knife.
Seth: I didn’t know that when I disarmed.
William: Will you arrest him now for the knife?
Martha: That’s questions enough for Mr. Bullock, William.
Doc: Give him a dose of that laudanum.
Sol: (laughs) I got my load on, Doc. (groaning)

(E.B. kicks his cook, how was leaning in for a closer look.)

Seth: Don’t doubt…I’ll have back my gun and badge.


Trixie:Shh…shh.
EB: (clears throat)
Trixie:Shh…shh

(Martha steps away from Charlie, E.B. continues to clear his throat, Doc looks over at him,
annoyed. E.B. backs off and leaves.)

Trixie:Shh…shh.

(Martha kneels next to Seth and begins washing the blood off his face.)
---
(Back at the Gem, Al is still gasping in pain as he continues to slowly dress himself. Jewel
comes down the stairs with Bullock’s badge and gun belt…)

Al: Fuck.
Jewel: I found these seeing to you piss-pot, and I know they ain’t yours.
Al: What tipped you off, the fucking badge? Put them down (gestures to a chair) Is that some
kind of private fucking hilarity?
Jewel: What?
Al: The piss-pot remark.
Jewel: No. (E.B. enters)
Al: I made water off the balcony this morning, if it’s any of your fucking business. Now get
away from me. (E.B. turns on his heel as Al says this – Al grabs his arm) Not you E.B!
Get the fuck back here.
EB: Heavens. It’s all like some great Greek battle.
Al: Yeah, how about that fucking Doc, huh? Seeing to the respectable types, leaving us, the
ones that pay him regular, huh? So that woman and child - Bullock’s?
EB: His wife and son.
Johnny: Uh, how was Mr. Star? How was Charlie Utter?
Al: Shut up, Johnny! (gasping) Detail Bullock’s condition.
EB: The worse for wear. No clarity to his look or focus, as I could cite in other combatants.
(touches Al’s shoulder)
Al: You touch me, E.B., I’ll put your nose through your fucking brain! Now, did he state his
further intentions?
EB: To have his gun and badge back.
Al: In what fucking tone?
EB: Well, I’d shy from putting a name to it, Al. (chuckles) He was talking to an 8 year-old.
Al: Sound like he’d be coming back for more?
EB: Well, I’d hate to guess and be wrong.
Al: New whores on that coach, huh? Find out where they’ll be working.
EB: I could take him his gun and badge, plumb his intent as we talk.
Al: And how would that chat start, E.B., huh? (imitates E.B. – Adams chuckling)) “Here’s
your hardware, and as he looks a cunt anyway, Al would like you to have this rose.”
(Waves a bottle at E.B.)
EB: I’ll, uh, look into the new whores. (leaves)
Adams: (to Al) How you doing?
Johnny: (To E.B.) Uh, is my bullet out? Will Star live?
EB: Well, if he don’t, he’s going happy.
Johnny: And—and Mr. Utter? Will he be blind and deaf?
EB: No! Let me suss out that new trim, Johnny, before I earn some added rebuke.

(Adams sidles down the bar to Dan…)

Adams: Look, all’s I’m saying is I ain’t your enemy.


Dan: Well, whatever you thought your intentions was coming on me like you did, nine times
out of 10, that’ll be the last fuckin’ move you ever make.
Al: Bullock will be coming back for his weapon.
Dan: To what intent?
Al: Open question.
Dan: Well, we’ll be ready. (Picks up his shotgun – looks at Adams) You’ve had your one out
of 10.
Al: Cow-eyed kid looking from that coach, that’s what fucking unmanned me.

---
(Upstairs in the Grand Central, Alma is wrapping a present.)

Alma: (sighs) He couldn’t have known she was coming. (holds her hand out to Miss
Isringhausen) Just today, I’d asked Mr. Bullock after his family, and he made no mention
of their being en route.
Miss Isringhausen: You’re kind, extending the hand of welcome.
Alma: Well, at it’s best, this camp can be forbidding to new arrivals.
Miss Isringhausen: Well, that was very much my experience.
Alma: Let alone to come upon Mr. Bullock in the mud of that thoroughfare, injured, who knows
how seriously?
Miss Isringhausen: Well, thank goodness he seemed coming back to himself.
Alma: Miss Isringhausen, I didn’t realize medicine was among your areas of expertise.
Miss Isringhausen: It isn’t, Mrs. Garret.
Alma: Then perhaps I’ll better learn Mr. Bullock’s condition in his presence. And Mr. Star’s
and Utter’s condition.
Miss Isringhausen: Yes, ma’am.

(Sophia walks around the bed to face Alma…)

Alma: Sophia? (Sophia holds out a treat wrapped in a bow.) You put a ribbon around your
candy? (Sophia nods her head) And did you want me to give it to that boy? (nods head)
Miss Isringhausen: Please answer in words, Sophia.
Sophia: Yes, please.

(There’s a knocking at the door. Miss Isringhausen goes to answer it.)

Ellsworth: Miss Isringhausen.


Miss Isringhausen: Mr. Ellsworth.
Ellsworth: I’m here to steer Mrs. Garret.
Alma: Then Mr. Ellsworth and I will make the delivery.

(Ellsworth picks up the basket & sticks his tongue out at Sophia. She returns the gesture and
Miss. Isringhausen admonishes her with a silent “Sophia.” Ellsworth and Alma are now
walking along the thoroughfare, making their way to the hardware store.)

Ellsworth: Not as I’d been asked, Mrs. Garret, but I wonder if this ain’t a call better paid
another day.
Alma: I’ve stopped believing I can dictate the terms of my opportunities.
Ellsworth: Well, some would say it might be your choice. What chances you decide not to
take, some being the butt-in loudmouth types.
Alma: Shall I walk on alone, Mr. Ellsworth?
Ellsworth: No, ma’am.

---

(In the hardware store, Doc is prospecting in Sol’s arm. He grunts as he pulls out the bullet.)

Sol: I’m sorry for throwing up.


Doc: If you hadn’t, I would suspect your previous habits.

(Alma enters, Merrick pulls off his hat, holding Martha’s bonnet in his other hand. Seth stands.)

Alma: Mr. Bullock.


Seth: Mrs. Garret.
Alma: How are you feeling, Mr. Star?

(Seth looks over at Ellsworth, he just shrugs.)

Sol: I’ve puked twice.


Trixie:Mrs. Garret.
Alma: Trixie.
Doc: Mrs. Garret.
Alma: (turns) Mr. Utter.
Charlie: Ma’am. Uh, don’t be alarmed. A lot of this damage is old.
Seth: Let me introduce my wife, Martha. And our son, William. Mrs. Alma Garret.
Alma: How do you do?
Martha: How do you do?
Alma: How do you do, William?
William: How do you do? (tips his hat)
Seth: And Ellsworth, who superintends Mrs. Garret’s claim.
Ellsworth: Ma’am. William.
William: How do you do?
Alma: (looks around for a moment) You’ve discovered us in distressing circumstances.
Martha: We’re safe and glad of joining Mr. Bullock.

(Seth gives Alma a “What the fuck?” look – A.W. looks really uncomfortable, Alma looks to
Ellsworth, he hurriedly hands her the basket. Alma steps forward, and hands it to Martha.)

Alma: I hope this can be of some use to you, uh, in your settling in.
Martha: Thank you.
Seth: Thank you.
Alma: My ward included sweets for your son, when his mother decides he may have them.
William: Is your ward a boy?
Alma: A girl, Sophia. A little younger than you, I think.
William: Oh. (Looks at his mom, she nods) Thank you.

(Doc is tending to Sol, Trixie rips bandages, A.W. still looks really uncomfortable. As do Seth
and Alma and just about everybody in the room…)

Seth: You recall Mrs. Garret from my letters.

(Blank look on Martha’s face. A moment of uncomfortable silence passes before Martha breaks
it…)

Martha: Yes.
Charlie: That’s good luck you had right there. ‘Cause I carry the mail, and I’ll admit today
before lay people (chuckling) we lose more letters than we deliver. (Charlie laughs
uncomfortably, A. W. laughs as well, a bit loudly for it to be genuine.)
Alma: I’ll say goodbye then, in hopes that I see you again soon.
Martha: Yes.
Alma: (turns to leave, stops and turns to William) I hope I see you soon, William.
William: Thanks for the sweets.
Ellsworth: And don’t be pestering me for the good fishing spots. I name them only over
breakfast at the Grand Central hotel, or what I call my dog. (Offers his arm to Alma, they
leave)
Seth: Will you see your house?
Martha: I would like to very much.
AW: Uh—Ahem—Mrs. Bullock, I –uh, I’ve retrieved your bonnet from your former post.
And, uh, at your convenience, the readers of the “Black Hills Pioneer” would be
interested in hearing about your journey and perhaps your first impressions of our camp.
Doc: You don’t have to give ‘em all.
Seth: Thank you for seeing to Mr. Star.
Trixie:No need to hurry back.
Seth: Go ahead, William.

---
(Out in the thoroughfare…)

Alma: He never wrote of me in his letters to her…did he?


Ellsworth: We never spoke on what he’s wrote to his wife or hadn’t, Mrs. Garret.
Alma: Or why he hadn’t
Ellsworth: No, Ma’am. And you and me hadn’t ought to either.
Alma: (nods) Thank you for taking me, Mr. Ellsworth.
Ellsworth: You’re welcome, Ma’am.

---
(Seth, Martha & William are walking slowly down the thoroughfare towards the new house…)
Seth: You’ll recall…what I wrote about her husband? How he’d sought his money back on a
claim. He died in a fall before gaining satisfaction, and the claim proved out rich.
William: Is that the house, Sir, the splendid one ahead?
Seth: It is.
Martha: You can walk ahead a little piece, William. Just a little piece.
Seth: And of my promise to help the widow…as I could, made to Wild Bill Hickok.
Martha: Yes, Mr. Bullock. And you must be as weary from the days events and your work
readying the house as we are from travel. Please don’t trouble to repeat yourself.

---
(Up on the Bella Union balcony…)

Maddie: We traveled with that woman and her boy.


Cy: While that lady was traveling with you, her husband the sheriff was pickling his prick in
the cunt brine of another. (The balcony door opens and Lila leads the whores out,
bringing a bottle with her.) Look at Lila, delivering her ducklings all undamaged and dry.
Joanie: How are we gonna celebrate, Cy?
Maddie: My vote’s for hardy but brief.
Cy: Vote’s don’t count here just yet. It looks a little small, Lila. But I guess you gals are
used to making the best of that. (uncorks the bottle) Just fleeting as fucking innocence, let
me toast to bold new venture. Your place got a name yet, Honey?
Joanie: Le Chez Amie.
Cy: That’s catchy. (to the girls) Open your yap, stick out your tongue. To the Chez Amie!
(Starts to pour a drink down the whore’s throats) And to—(grabs a whore by the neck)
stick your fucking tongue out! (the whore gags) Joanie and Maddie! Able hands at a
whorehouse tiller! And to…Doris, one the Bella’s best cocksuckers, that I send with
them as a gesture of friendship.
Maddie: We have the girls we need.
Cy: Bon Voyage, sweetheart, as long as we’re speaking french.
Joanie: We got all the girls we need, Cy.
Cy: Ah, don’t fear that she’ll spy, Joanie. Please, don’t reject Doris on that basis. You’ll just
get her belly cut by me showing you I’m serious. And an uncut Bella whore sent with
you. Being as funds stole from me by Eddie put the Chez Amie on it’s feet, I consider
myself an investor. And I will have my interests looked at, 60 cents from dollar one!
And a true count fucking verified.
Joanie: All right. (whispers) Fine.
Cy: Get these girls out of here, Lila! You better get packed, Doris. Did you bring anything
with you when I bought you? (she shakes her head no) That’s all right, honey. You just
pack the rags you been wiping the cum off with. All right, Joanie?
Joanie: Yes. And now we’re gonna go.
Cy: What do you think, I’m a monkey in a zoo? Think I’m gonna throw my shit after you?
Joanie: No.
Cy: Don’t fucking talk to me like I’m a monkey. (door closes) Get those cunts out of here.
Don’t believe there’s no good women till you’ve seen one with maggots in her eyes.
Joanie! Bet the wheel before you leave. You’re on a lucky run.
---

(Cut to the stream in front of the Bullock home, they pass over a little foot bridge…)

William: Is there fish in this stream?


Seth: Sometimes. (They step up to the porch) This is it.
Martha: May we go inside?
Seth: Did you get the letter about the house?
Martha: I did get that letter. It’s at the very top of my trunk.
Seth: That has all my thoughts.
Martha: May we go in?
Seth: I should go back now. You and the boy go in.
Martha: Let’s go in the house Mr. Bullock has made us, William.
William: Come on, Mr. Bullock.
Seth: Not just now, William.
William: Don’t you want to come in?
Seth: I can’t come in just now.
William: After you’ve seen to the camp, gotten your gun and badge back? (Seth hands
Martha the welcome basket…) Well, I’ll take my mother in.
Seth: Thank you.
William: Come on, Mother.
Martha: Thank you.

(Seth turns and walks away…we hear him reading his letter to Martha in a voiceover as he
makes his way along the thoroughfare to the Grand Central…)

Seth: “Dear Mrs. Bullock, Your house is near finished. My satisfaction does not exceed the
camp’s lumbermen and sawyers whose patience I have tried by my over watchful eye for
greenness and for good square edge quality in the cut boards. I’ve chosen pine, one-year
seasoned, for the sills, posts, floor joists and rafters. The other framing timbers is of
spruce. Where partitions bear upon them, I have doubled the beams and supported the
floor with locus posts set three feet into the ground. I think you may laugh to see the
mullioned windows with their view of the camp from out the parlor. Being unfinished,
they look like unfocused eyes. I’ve left these and all final decorative choices to your
superior judgment and sensibility.”
Shyster: Soap! Soap with a prize inside!
Seth: “I hope that you and the boy may arrive in good health and safety. I look forward to our
opportunity to better get to know each other. I pray that in my brother’s stead, I may be
permitted to be a father to the boy as good as Robert would have been, and as to your
care and comfort and safety, as good a husband to you. Yours Sincerely, Seth Bullock.”

(He finally reaches Alma’s door. E.B. watching from below…he knocks, Alma opens the door,
she steps out, they hug, she pulls the door almost closed, we see them cling to each other through
the crack in the door.)
Cast (in credits order)
Timothy Olyphant .... Seth Bullock
Ian McShane .... Al Swearengen
Molly Parker .... Alma Garret
Jim Beaver .... Ellsworth
Brad Dourif .... Doc Cochran
John Hawkes .... Sol Star
Paula Malcomson .... Trixie
Leon Rippy .... Tom Nuttall
William Sanderson .... Eustis Baily (E.B.) Farnum
Robin Weigert .... Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown .... Dan Dority
Dayton Callie .... Charlie Utter
Anna Gunn .... Martha Bullock
Powers Boothe .... Cy Tolliver / Tolliver
Sean Bridgers .... Johnny Burns
Jeffrey Jones .... A.W. Merrick
Geri Jewell .... Jewel
Bree Seanna Wall .... Sophia
Gill Gayle .... Huckster
Titus Welliver .... Silas Adams
Meghan Glennon .... Lila
Kim Dickens .... Joanie Stubbs
Maddie Alice Krige
Miss Isringhausen Sarah Paulson
William Bullock Josh Eriksson

Jackson Bolt .... Ellsworth's Rifleman


Christian DeStefanis .... Ellsworth's Rifleman

Publicity images & episode content © 2005 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved. HBO and
Deadwood are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2005 Cristi H. Brockway.
The copyright claimed by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her personal contribution of
material not contained in the episode from which this transcript was compiled. Any commercial
use of this transcript is expressly prohibited.
Episode 14
“A Lie Agreed Upon, Part 2”

Directed by: Ed Bianchi


Written by: Jody Worth
Episode 14: “A Lie Agreed Upon, Part 2”
(Al is leaning against his desk, Doc is wrapping up his ribs…)

Doc: That’s good.


Al: How’s Bullock doing?
Doc: I don’t discuss my patients one with another.
Al: Bleeding through his fucking ear? He was bleeding through it pretty fucking
good out there in the thoroughfare.
Doc: Tell me about that other department.
Al: Inform that fucking lunatic next you see him I’m fit as a fucking fiddle and ready
to play on.
Doc: (Helping Al back into his long johns top) Inform me, Al, to what mark in your
piss-pot did you fill?
Al: The volume was adequate. I didn’t check the mark.
Doc: (Sits) Any discharge of gleets, burning or soreness?

(There’s a knocking on the door, Johnny enters with Al’s suit back from Mr. Wu’s
laundry…)

Johnny: I got your suit back from Mr. –Whoo! It’s kind of, like, aromafied from
that solvent.
Al: Why don’t you let it cure in the air for a while, huh, Johnny? (Johnny walks to the
balcony door) Not on the balcony. Not on the fucking balcony.

(Johnny leaves, Al takes a swig from the whiskey bottle.)

Doc: Gleets, burn, soreness?

(Another knocking on the door, E.B. enters the office…)

EB: He’s come back to my hotel.


Al: Bullock.
EB: Upstairs to the widow. I can’t say if they’re in rut. I didn’t linger for the song of
the bedstead. (Al nods his head. E.B. clears his throat and puts his hat back on…)
Let me go check on those fucking whores.

(E.B. leaves, Doc closes his eyes and shakes his head in annoyance at all the
interruptions.)

Al: No more in that department. That fucking discussion is over.

---
(In Alma’s room at the Grand Central, Sophia is sleeping…over in the main room, Alma
and Seth are seated, Alma is fingering her brooch nervously…)

Alma: I was relieved Mr. Star and Mr. Utter weren’t more badly injured.
Seth: Yes.
Alma: (Tilts her head at Seth, puts her hands in her lap…) I hope my coming to your
store caused no awkwardness.
Seth: It was kind of you bringing that basket for my family.
Alma: May I ask if you had been aware their arrival was so imminent?
Seth: No. (Alma turns her head away, she seems frustrated, like talking to a brick wall I
would imagine.) She had written that William seemed entirely recovered, but no
mention of intending to travel.
Alma: (Nods her head) He’s handsome…your brother’s son.
Seth: He’s a fine boy.
Alma: (Kneels down in from of Seth…) I would so like to see to your injuries, however
superficially.
Seth: My proposal would be we leave the camp immediately, or remain and sever
connection.
Alma: (Pauses) A choice for me to make?
Seth: Yes. I don’t seek to absolve myself. I don’t believe I’m to be relied upon for
good judgment.
Alma: Or even for an account of your own feelings?
Seth: I only know that for us to stay and not sever connection would add lying to her
humiliation – renew her humiliation daily.
Alma: Yes, I understand. (Alma stands and walks across the room) You say I must
choose immediately?
Seth: Tonight.
Alma: I’d need some part of tonight to consider.
Seth: Yes.
Alma: Others are involved for me as well.
Seth: (Stands) I’ll come back in a few hours. (He turns to leave, Alma stops him…)
Alma: Be very careful in the interim, Mr. Bullock.
Seth: Alright.
Alma: (Whispering) Be careful.

(Seth leaves, not turning back. Alma looks over at the sleeping Sophia…)

---

(At the hardware store, Trixie and Charlie are moving Sol down from the countertop
where he lay while Doc removed the bullet…)

Trixie:Two, fucking three.

(Sol groans.)
Charlie: Easy.

(They help walk him into the back room, A.W. Merrick lighting the way. Wow! He not
only makes a great hat rack, but a lamp as well!)

Charlie: A lovely family, the Bullocks.


Trixie:Grand.
Sol: Looked forward all this while, and meet ‘em with my load on.
Charlie: Easy does it. Easy.

(Charlie lifts Sol to set him down on a bed, Trixie helps lift his legs up…)

Trixie:Two, fucking three! (They all groan as they move Sol.)


Sol: Thank you, Mr. Utter.
Charlie: Okay.
Sol: Much obliged, Mr. Merrick.
Trixie:I got him. (Covers Sol with a blanket, he groans.) Look the fuck out. (Charlie
leaves, A.W. doesn’t move - just like a lamp – Trixie points to the door.) Look the fuck
out. (A.W. exits the back room and joins Charlie in the front of the store.)
Charlie: I ought probably to get some weapons.

(Merrick looks at Charlie, confused, he leans back to look in the back room at Trixie and
Sol, he walks over and closes the door, turning back to Charlie.)

AW: (Whispering) Why?


Charlie: What?
AW: (louder) Why would you?
Charlie: Maybe you didn’t notice Bullock was without his gun.
AW: No, I did. Perhaps with the ringing in your ears, you didn’t hear Mr. Bullock say
he’d get his old weapon back.
Charlie: You think maybe a new one might be useful to Bullock arranging his old
one’s return? (Duh, Merrick) And more backing his position?

(Seth enters and walks straight back to Sol…)

Seth: May I have a word with Sol?


Trixie:Sure. (Leans in to speak to Sol) Will you mind if I hang around awhile?
Sol: Fuck, no.
Trixie:(As she’s leaving, she mutters to herself) Self-deluding, interfering motherfucker.

(Charlie, and eventually A.W. Merrick, follow her outside.)

Seth: I’m sorry you got shot.


Sol: A man like me gets used to it.
Seth: If it had came to it, I’d have seen to dissolving the partnership, sending your
mother the proceeds.
Sol: Why would I expect otherwise?
Seth: And I know you would do the same.
Sol: What are you thinking of?
Seth: Along with any funds I might forward.
Sol: From the afterlife, you mean?
Seth: (Louder) Any funds I’d send subsequent, I know you’d administer in their
interests – Martha and the boy.
Sol: Yes, you’re correct. What are you fucking thinking of? (Seth looks away and
shakes his head slightly) What we’ve built and been through, you don’t get to
walk away without saying why.
Seth: You know why.
Sol: That don’t mean you don’t have to say it. I’m sick of knowing and you not
saying.
Seth: I love her.
Sol: Good! You fucking said it. And now I get to tell you you’re wrong. You loved
her these months and stayed. It ain’t love that’d make you run, but shame. Now
let me ask you this, you think shame would end when you cleared the fucking
camp?
Seth: It’s shameful either way, Sol.
Sol: It’s life either way, Seth.
Seth: (Stands up) I’m sorry you got shot.
Sol: Well I am too, but I like being loaded. I like telling you what the fuck I think, you
cocksucker. (Seth looks down at Sol.)
Seth: I know you will see to their interests.
Sol: Yes, I will, you cocksucker! And I like saying “cocksucker.” What the fuck do
you think of that?

(Outside, Trixie is smoking a cigarette, Charlie is standing next to her, looking around.)

Trixie:Want a fast blow-job?


Charlie: (Snaps his head around to Trixie...) What?
Trixie:Quick open air blow-job.
Charlie: (Chuckles, stammering) Uh, no, Thank you. (Seth comes out of the store,
passing them) Uh, Bullock.
Seth: Charlie. (They start walking down the thoroughfare.)
Trixie:Maybe Mr. Star will want one. (Turns and goes back inside.)
Seth: Thanks for going against orders.
Charlie: I’ll tell you, I got such a fucking ringing in my ears.
Seth: (Louder) Thanks for taking my back before.
Charlie: Oh, you’re welcome. Hey, (they stop) I’ll bet your wife and son are
overtook by that lovely home you built them. (Points to the house, Seth gazes in
that direction) Uh, and what did that boy say about a creek in his own front yard?
(Seth pauses a moment, then continues walking) And that’s a fine appearance he
makes. And if you don’t mind my saying, she is one striking woman, Mrs.
Bullock. (Seth stops and looks back at Charlie) Sense of dignified and upright.
Seth: Thank you.
Charlie: Anyways, where the fuck you headed?
Seth: To get my things from Al Swearengen.
Charlie: Oh.
Seth: Maybe for a word with Dan Dority too. (Points to his head) Gave me this fucking
headache.
Charlie: To the Gem then. (Seth nods, turns, and continues walking. Charlie
starts acting dizzy, bending over, arms out, as if trying to steady himself from
dizziness) Jesus Christ. I’m faint. (Seth walks back to Charlie) A faintness come
over me. Oh, Jesus. (Seth puts his hand on Charlie’s shoulder) That’s a
lightheaded fucking sensation. Oh.
Seth: Did you want to go to your place?
Charlie: Oh, maybe I should. Maybe that’s the fucking prudent course. (Seth puts
Charlies arm around his shoulder.)
Seth: Give me some weight. (Charlie groans) Come on. (They start walking)
Charlie: Yeah, to not keel forward and drown in fucking horseshit. Ooh.
Seth: How are you feeling?
Charlie: Things are a little wavy-like before my eyes. (They pass by the Gem,
piano music playing) Fuck the Gem. Gem’ll fucking wait.
---

(Inside the Gem, Al and Silas are seated at the bar, Dan is behind the bar.)

Adams: For what it’s worth, Yankton’s afraid of Bullock.

(Al, a surprised look on his face, looks at Adams, then Dan. Dan looks at Adams with a
contemptuous “What the mother-fucking fuck?” face.)

Al: Don’t say no more. Refrain from explaining yourself.


Adams: Till Congress approves, nothing’s to say the hills get made part of Dakota.
Far as that, Montana’s got pull Dakota don’t. Montana’s got silver for bribes.
Al: Thieving Indian agent’s all fucking Dakota’s got.
Adams: It ain’t fucking fresh money to the game.
Dan: And how does that argue for Bullock living or dying?
Adams: Yankton thinks Bullock’s Montana’s man.
Al: On what basis?
Adams: He was favorite of a judge in Helena that wanted him in politics. They
figure he’s a stalking horse here for the judge’s interests.
Dan: Then Yankton’s got their head up their fucking asses. If they think Bullock’s
anybody’s man. Hell, Bullock himself don’t even know whose man he is.
Al: In the thoroughfare, as I readied to stab the cocksucker, did you have no impulse
to hint at this?
Adams: The moment didn’t seem right.
Al: Over time, your quickness with a cocky rejoinder must have gotten you many
punches in the face.
Adams: Depends on what you call “many.”
Dan: There’s another fucking clever one. (Lays his shotgun on the bar, looks at Al and
motions his head to Adams.)
Al: To Yankton’s thinking, would Bullock dead curb Montana’s interests or incite
them to a stronger expression?
Adams: I don’t know.
Al: If he’s spoiling to mix it with us further, they may get a chance to find out.

(Dan picks up his shotgun and taps the butt on the bar top – ready for action.)
---
(Back in Alma’s room, Sophia is still fast asleep, Alma is ruminating aloud on her
situation…)

Alma: He will leave with me, if I tell him that’s my wish. (Pauses) As to what our life
would be, that’s another question.
Miss Isringhausen: I would say, Ma’am, it might be like – living atop a volcano.

(Alma considers this remark, sits back in her chair…)

Alma: That’s been done, Miss Isringhausen.


Miss Isringhausen: Certainly. And with a good deal of excitement, I should think. A
sense of high adventure every day. And, of course, Danger.
Alma: As to excitement, would you possibly…add happiness?
Miss Isringhausen: Why not, Mrs. Garret? (Alma stands and walks to the window)
Please don’t be angry with me, Ma’am.
Alma: No. (Gazes out the window for a moment) We do love each other. Our being
together ought not to seem so outlandish a proposition…
Miss Isringhausen: No, Ma’am…
Alma: …except for every other single thing.

---
(Charlie and Seth have arrived outside Utter Mail & Freight…)

Charlie: Uh…Oh boy. Yeah, there you go. Thank you. Thank you, Bullock.
Ooh. (Charlie sits down on a crate, outside the building, across from a bench)
Seth: Alright.
Charlie: (Puts his hand up) I’m next to completely collected. (groans) Three
separate occasions I’ve been shot at, hit, and fought on. And now, a miss takes
my equilibrium.
Seth: Anyways.
Charlie: Uh…You – want to get to the Gem, huh?
Seth: Yeah.
Charlie: Why?
Seth: I told you why.
Charlie: Well, I mean why just this instant, say, different from later a little while,
when a friend could back your play? I mean, someplace you need to get to after
that?
(Seth looks at Charlie for a long moment, looks behind him at the bench, backs up a bit to
sit down…)

---
(Joanie’s new place, the Chez Amie, She and Maddie enter with lamps to light up the
building…)

Joanie: I got the elements stored in the back.


Maddie: I hope to Christ you do. (Turns to the door) Come in. (The new whores
begin to enter) Don’t anyone bolt for freedom.
Joanie: I kept accumulating them secret so Cy wouldn’t think I was proceeding.

(They enter a back room, they all look around. Maddie smiles.)

Maddie: Well, well, well.


Joanie: There’s the wallpaper you sent, Maddie.
Maddie: Yes, Ma’am. Ladies, why don’t you put your attention to some of the
lighter furniture, and we’ll hire some great minds to do the heavy lifting? (She
looks at Doris) Roll up your sleeves, Doris. Hard work dispels worry.
---
(Back at the hardware store, Trixie is sitting next to a resting Sol…)

Trixie:I pray to God your shoulder pain’s like some sharp-toothed creature’s inside
chewing at it and gnawing.
Sol: How did I give offense?
Trixie:No one needs feeling as good as you’d feel otherwise.
Sol: Hmmph.
Trixie:I say from -- fucking experience. And I didn’t need the fucking activity today –
and the fucking crises. I prefer sucking prick is the fucking short of it.
Sol: I would settle for a vigorous hand-holding.
Trixie:You are a funny fucking Jew. (Sol grunts, laughing) And type that insinuates
himself.

(Trixie takes her hand and places it on his chest. He reaches for it with his good hand
and pulls himself closer.)
---
(Up in Cy’s office…)

Cy: General principle, I believe in fostering people’s tries at improving their selves,
and I think you all also know that I got a special fondness for Joanie Stubbs. And
if those things wasn’t true, in this camp at this precise juncture, I, Cy Tolliver,
would not have backed an exclusively high-end whoring operation at the far
fucking end of the camp without concealed access for it’s trade. But, be that as it
may, and – wishing Joanie Godspeed, (We now see who he is talking to, it’s Lila,
Leon, Con Stapleton and the dealer) This congregation gathers so that I can
assure each of you that our operation here, the Bella Union, is organized exactly
to capitalize on what this camp is ready for and for what it’s going to become. I
want each of you to take one of these…(takes out some gold coins, Leon is staring
wide-eyed at the sight of the gold, maybe wondering how much dope that will buy
him?) As a gesture of optimism and good will. (Slaps the coins down on the desk)
---
(In Doc’s cabin, Doc is prospecting in Bummer Dan’s skull for some brain. He scoops
out a piece of brain and starts to set it in a pan when he hears a body thud to the ground
outside, followed by a familiar voice yelling…)

Jane: Keep your fucking distance! (Doc looks up and over at the window) Remain on
your side of the street! (We see Jane, hanging by one leg from her patient horse)
Do not interfere with me in any way! Chinese cocksucker!

(Doc, deciding what to do about this unexpected arrival, slurps around at the gooey
brain and plunks it in a jar of formaldehyde. He quickly washes his hands and heads
outside.)

Jane: Aw, Jesus. (She’s groaning with the effort of trying to reach for her stirrup, in
order to get herself access to the rope on her foot. Doc reaches her…)
Doc: Well, you are an entangled inebriate, are you not?
Jane: This happens to be a rig and contraption of my own devising against repeated
accidental falls that has temporarily malfunctioned.
Doc: (Trying to unknot her…) Very well knotted.
Jane: I’m back in camp, Cochran, ‘cause I’m dying – and I need a place to breath my
fucking last, and not for no human aid or consolation. (Doc – still fumbling with
all the knots…) Jesus Christ, you’re bad with your hands! (Doc looks down at
her) If I wasn’t practically fucking dead, I’d reach that knife (straining to point to
her knife) and cut myself free. Yeah, I just farted. So what? (Doc takes her knife
from her boot…) Hey! Hey! Hey! (Grabs the knife from Doc) Don’t you disarm
me, you cocksucker! Lift me up so I can cut myself free.
Doc: (Moves behind her, grabs her shoulders…) Alright, you ready? (He lifts her up
enough so she can cut the rope and free herself.) Alright now, give me that hand.
(Jane groans as Doc helps her stand up)
Jane: Ow.
Doc: Now…(he steadies her) step inside and let me examine you, even if you are past
help. Enhancing my understanding may allow others the benefit of your mortal
illness.
Jane: (Looks at him for a moment – smacks him with the back her hand in the stomach)
Do you mock me, cocksucker?
Doc: No. Come on inside. (Jane nods her head) Alright, there we go. (He helps her
walk inside)
Jane: Promise when I’m dead, you’ll plant me with a view of where Bill is.
---
(Alma, still standing at the window, continues to ponder her situation with Miss
Isringhausen…)
Alma: He couldn’t have meant that, not possibly.
Miss Isringhausen: Well, I shouldn’t have thought so.
Alma: You don’t believe he imagines where he and I to go, I’d leave Sophia behind?
Miss Isringhausen: I can’t be certain, Mrs. Garret. I didn’t hear him speak.
Alma: Because others rescued her and nursed her, -- is the idea that she belongs to the
camp? Are we some sort of vicious, filthy outpost of Brook farm? (Miss
Isringhausen raises her eyebrows) She’s been with me for seven months. She’s a
part of my life as I am of hers. He couldn’t have. (She crosses her arms.)
---
(Back in Doc’s cabin, Jane is lying down on the table…)

Jane: I will not!


Doc: Jane, (shaking a thermometer at her) for me, the female breast has long ago lost
all mystery or allure. Open your Goddamn blouse.

(Jane leans up on her elbow in defense. Eying the Doc. She lays back down with her hat
on her chest. She moves it sharply to her side and begins to unbutton her blouse. Doc
put the thermometer in her mouth…)

Jane: (through clenched teeth) I’m keeping my eyes shut but I’ll know every fucking
move you make! I’ll have you further promise, that you won’t forage in my
remains after I’m dead, as you obviously don’t scruple from that type of sick
behavior.
Doc: (Holding a stethoscope to her) I promise. Alright, sit up if you’re not too drunk.
(He removes the thermometer from her mouth – he looks at it, moving around the
table, he put his stethoscope on a sidetable, shakes out the thermometer and
places it in a jar as Jane sits up and starts to rebutton her blouse.) Your liver runs
from your chin to your genitals, so I suggest you quit drinking.
Jane: I will when you do, you ugly son of a bitch.
Doc: Nature is a forgiving mistress, and you might could have some time to fill before
she collects her due.
Jane: As if I’d credit any opinions of yours on the subject of health.
Doc: Well, if you do care to sojourn among us, Charlie Utter has put aside a room for
you at the freight building.
Jane: Does he have any animals in there?
---
(Outside Utter Mail & Freight, Charlie and Seth are talking…)

Seth: Fort Cooper, on the Butterfield stage route.


Charlie: I know that Fort – on the Brazos.
Seth: That’s where I found him. I was 13, and he had to send me back. But we had
a…a good talk before I left. Probably I’d have come looking for him again, but—
next year was the war. Robert was Calvary. No way to locate where he was.
Charlie: The fucking war had everyone all over everywhere.
Seth: We wrote. Less after my father passed and I headed to Montana. I had letters
when he married, when they had their boy (he smiles). And we’d threaten visits.
When I finally did come to Fort Quitman where Robert was posted and…met
Martha and William, Robert wasn’t there. He was – following back some raid
across the Rio Grande. I had let it wait too long. He got shot and killed in
Mexico and was buried there.
Charlie: Fucking Mexico.
Seth: I went down, found him – and brought him back. (Seth tears up)
Charlie: Wrong to let him lay there…unless you’re a Mexican.

(Seth sighs, starts to tear up, nearly sobbing…Charlie stands up…)

Charlie: My bowels are in an upheaval. I’ll walk off to pass wind. (He stands a
few feet away, waves his hat behind his – well, behind.) Don’t ever say I’m not a
fucking gentleman.
Jane: Fuck you two!

(Seth looks up, raises his eyebrows as Jane approaches with a big smile on her face.)
---
(Back at the Gem, Al and Tom Nuttall are talking at the bar. Silas is leaning against the
bar a few feet away. Slippery Dan is seated at a table across the room, muttering to
himself…)

Slippery Dan:Number 10…ruled me off, the round-eyed toad. Cocksucker.


Al: (groans)
Tom: My concern, past your physical well-being, is what the dispute portends.
Al: Yeah, I don’t know. (Dan is glaring at Silas)
Tom: Is it unsettled between you two or still unresolved?
Al: I don’t fucking know.
Tom: Your ribs are hurting, ain’t they?
Al: Yeah they fucking hurt.
Tom: Well, I always believed, of his sufferings on the cross, his busted ribs would have
hurt him the worst.

(Al sees Silas’ butler friend enter the Gem…)

Al: Hey, Adams? Cutthroat friend, huh? (To Butler) And I thought you was in
Florida having your belly rubbed by a Seminole.
Adams: (Approaches Butler) What the fuck?
Butler: You aren’t going to believe what happened to me, boss.
Adams: If Kate Hogranch is part of this story and fucking that half-breed, go ahead
and try me.
Butler: That’s not the stop that detained me.
Adams: I’m past my fill of this shit. Next time don’t fucking catch up. (Walks
away)
Butler: Guess the day of the Samaritan’s passed. (Approaches a whore…)
Stopped to help stranded sisters. (Sits down with her…) Hi.
Al: (To Silas - mockingly) Severe reprimand.
(Johnny pours shots for Adams and Dan, Dan holds down the bottle, forcing Johnny to
pour him a stout shot. Silas does his teeny shot (in comparison to Dan’s ginormously
huge manly shot. Dan gulps his shot down, slams the empty glass on the bar and throws
his hat down on the bar top. He glares at Silas as he walks away.)

Tom: Them two seem disputatious as well, huh?


Al: (Pouring another shot) Storm clouds gather.

(Tom looks up at the ceiling – looking for the clouds. Dan approaches the table that
Butler boy and the whore are sharing. He slaps the whore on the shoulder with a towel.
She jumps up and hurries away. Dan begins vigorously wiping the table clean.)

Butler: Think you about got her clean there, Hoss.


Dan: Another fucking clever one. You know, I bet when you and your partner’s out on
the trail, when you ain’t greasin’ poles and choosing who’s going to be rider, Oh,
I bet you and him just bust each other’s guts with your little fucking funnies.
Butler: Well, we do laugh some about you. (He takes Dan by surprise with a
headbutt to the belly and the fight begins. Dan flips Butler boy ass over teakettle
onto the floor. He kicks him, straddles him and pins him to the ground.
Dan: Let’s here a belly giggle now, (Looks at Silas, then back to Butler boy) you
cocksucker.

(He starts punching Butler boy…Al smiles at Silas. Dan is really punching the hell out of
Butler boy now. Silas looks to Al, pleadingly…)

Al: No.
Adams: (Throwing his hat to the ground) God damn it!
Slippery Dan:Christ, that’s one country ass-kicking!
Adams: (Charges Slippery Dan) Shut your fucking mouth!

(Silas grabs Slippery Dan by the jacket collar and slams him up on the wall, piercing his
chest on a pair of antlers hanging on the wall. The crowd gasps.)

Tom: Ooh, he just 12-pointed Slippery Dan.

(Slippery hangs dead, Dan is still punching the hell out of Butler boy. Al fires a shotgun
into the air. He points it at Dan.)

Al: Next one is to your head, Dan. Do not doubt me.


Dan: Well, that’s just fucking great. That’s fucking beautiful. (Dan gets up and storms
off)
Al: Feels like a cannon ball up my ass. (Puts the shotgun over his shoulder and turns
away.)
---
(Back at Utter Mail & Freight…Charlie and Seth are sitting quietly, listening to Jane tell
a story of her past months away…)

Jane: Fella in Livingstone went sweet on me. Finnish fella from Finland, hardly spoke
fucking English. Brought me flowers and some dry food they like there. And,
uh, one night, he takes my arm and he starts in and he, uh, whispers in his Finland
accent, (Whispers) “I want to suck your cock.” (She laughs, Charlie, not having
heard the punchline, just looks at her. Seth isn’t much for laughing and joking
(big surprise) and he doesn’t react either.) What do you fucking think of that?
(She looks at Charlie, proud, hands on hips – she was mistaken for a man! Come
on guys, isn’t that something? Funny at least? Guys? Hey, Guys?)
Charlie: Uh, oh, I missed the end part, Jane. Uh, can’t practically hear fuck-all. A
fucking bullet near creased my ear.
Jane: It didn’t do your face no fucking favors neither.
Charlie: Yeah.
Jane: (Looks to Seth – his eyes are closed) Put him to sleep.
Seth: I got to go. (Starts to stand, Charlie stops him.)
Charlie: No, no, no, wait, wait, wait. Uh, wait. (Sits down next to Seth) Let me get
weapons.
Jane: For what?
Charlie: I told you, we was involved in a falling out, and I guess (Seth tries to get
up, Charlie holds him down) hostilities may be about to resume.
Jane: You gonna tell me now who it was with?
Charlie: Swearengen.
Jane: The limey cocksucker nearly did for the little one?
Charlie: Uh-huh.
Jane: Well why the fuck was you withholding that information?
Charlie: In the futile hope of preventing you roiling the fucking waters.
Jane: How is that little one the limey cocksucker nearly killed? Still in the care of the
widow Garret? (Seth stands up)
Seth: I’ll have my badge and gun back.
Jane: Well, go get the fucking weapons for us to back him, Charlie.
Charlie: Let me just wake my fucking watchman. (Bangs on the door)
---
(Silas, with Slippery Dan slung over his shoulder, heads over to Mr. Wu’s. Mr. Wu’s
pigs are already feasting on Bummer Dan. Doc is leaning over the fence, watching the
picnic. Mr. Wu stands guard next to him.)

Doc: Alcoholic encephalopathy.


MrWu: Huh? (He looks at Doc with a skeptical, WTF? Face)
Doc: Um…wet brain (Makes a pantomime of him taking a shot, points to his head.)

(Mr. Wu sighs and walks away, looks like he thinks Doc is one strange cocksucka! Doc
points to Bummer Dan’s body, looks back and notices that Mr. Wu is no longer paying
attention. Silas approaches Mr. Wu with more Wurina Pig Chow™ and gets “the glare”
as Mr. Wu blocks his path.)
MrWu: Five Dollar.

(Silas just looks at Mr. Wu, tries to proceed to the pigpen, Mr. Wu holds up his hand, five
fingers splayed. Silas stops, resigned, he shifts the body so that he can reach into his
pocket , he takes out a coin and hands it to Mr. Wu. Mr. Wu steps aside and allows
Silas to proceed to the pigpen. Silas dumps Slippery Dan into the pen and walks away,
not interested in watching with Doc. Butler boy approaches Silas, wiping his face with a
handkerchief))

Hawkeye: (A name! A name! Butler boy has a name! Thank you Closed
Captioning!) Anything else I can do for you, Boss?
Adams: Keep up. (Hawkeye looks down and nods his head. Silas grabs his
shoulder, turning him around. They walk away.)
---
(At the Gem, in Dan’s room, he’s sitting on the bed, hunched over with his back to us.
We see Al enter the room in a reflection in the mirror to Dan’s right.)

Dan: Just save your fuckin’ words, Al. Don’t waste your precious time. You got any
orders, you just send Adams and he can deliver them. (Sobbing)
Al: Dan—
Dan: You chose! You took his fucking part!
Al: As was right and fucking proper at the time.
Dan: Yeah, but you pointed the fucking gun at me!
Al: And persuaded you I’d use it in order that I didn’t need to. (Dan sobbing) Dan?
Where you or me would have slammed that hoople up, planted him back and
twisted the cocksucker till all the points of that buck’s rack showed out his chest,
and then done it twice more in case the fuck mistook the first for accident, what
did Adams do?
Dan: (Still sobbing, he looks up at Al – distraught) He fucking walked away.
Al: Different man from you and me. (Dan looks down) Whatever looks ahead of
grievous abominations and disorder, you and me walk into it together like always.
(He holds out the shotgun to Dan. Dan takes it…)
Dan: As you’ve never say to Adams?
Al: (Spits in his hand) As I’d never say to Adams. (Dan stands, spits in his hand, they
shake, nearly hug, Al groans, walks away, grimacing/smiling, Dan wipes his
hand on his shirt front.) Send fucking Dolly up, huh?
Dan: (Nods, smiling) Yeah, sure thing, Boss.
---
(Alma is looking down on the thoroughfare from her window…)

Alma: When I first came to this camp and for many years before, I depended on spirits
of laudanum.
Miss Isringhausen: May I ask against what indisposition?
Alma: (huffs through her nose) Various indispositions. The remedy was invariable.
Caring for Sophia has been a great joy and a great freedom. To give up her care
in love’s name or any other – the selfishness of that…I’d be too afraid.
---
(Back at the Gem…)
Johnny: I ain’t never seen a man killed like that.
Dan: By God I’ll tell you what, Johnny, there would have been a hell of a lot more than
two tines sticking through that cocksucker’s chest if it had been me or Al
impaling him.
Al: (Upstairs, yelling) Jesus Christ!
Johnny: Either Al got God or Dolly just stuck her thumb back up his ass.

(Up in Al’s office, Al is bent over clinging to his desk while Dolly is working her thumb in
his ass.)

Al: Oh (groaning)…Now, I’m halfway thinking this exaggerates the condition rather
than alleviates it. If I might should query the Doc, but then that cocksucker will
only ask after gleets. (gasping) Oh my God. (Al tries to move away, Dolly is
persistent and scoots her chair to keep up with him) Take it out. Take it out.
Remove your fucking thumb. (he gasps, Dolly finally removes her thumb) Why, if
I was moving forward to get away from you, would you have fucking pursued
me? When I stopped, pressed on yourself to drive your thumb into my intestine?
Dolly: Sorry.
Al: (sighs) Is it a river of blood, or what the fuck’s pouring out of it now?
Dolly: Nothing.
Al: Huh. (sighs) Close the ass-flap. (She does) The entire area of my fucking asshole
is now one gigantic fucking throb. I have no idea what’s transpiring in there.
Dolly: Shall I suck your prick?
Al: Please.
---
(Trixie is outside the hardware store, smoking a cigarette. She sees Bullock and an
armed Charlie and Jane following him, approaching the Gem. She throws down her
cigarette and goes inside, pissed off and determined. She pauses outside the back room a
moment, deciding what she should do. She collects her thoughts, and huffs into the back
room.)

Trixie:Does he want to fucking die? I understand that has its fucking appeal, but not
going out a fucking cunt—taking others fucking with you.
Sol: (lifts a finger in the air) Dulled faculties!
Trixie:Your fucking stupid fuck of a stupid fucking partner.
Sol: Wants to die? (He starts to lift himself up) Help me, Trixie.
---
(Back in Al’s office, Dolly is giving him a blowjob while he waxes rhapsodically.)

Al: Even this now gives me no pleasure.


Seth: (From outside) Swearengen! Be down in five minutes with my gun and badge!
Jane: Start down now you limey cocksucker! Allow for getting stuck crawling out from
under the bed.
Al: That Bullock’s a fucking strategist, ain’t he? Sets terms to publicly humiliate me,
and my penalty if I don’t comply is he walks into the bar downstairs and takes 15
bullets in the chest. (Lifts Dolly’s head up to look at him) And that ain’t no
hooplehead, you know. Bullock, he’s one of those special fucking cases. You
don’t know what in fuck’s going on in their mind. And he’s big with Montana.
(guides her head back to his prick) Big. I heard that today. Because the news
earlier from Yankton and the fucking commissioners wasn’t adequately
confusing. Not to mention the fucking telegraph coming in and four whores that I
don’t know who the fuck they work for.
Seth: Three minutes!
Al: (Yelling) Shut the fuck up! (normal) I suppose I do fucking understand. So
fucking confused and disgusted and wanting it to end and looking for the blessing
of a quick way out. Sets himself to a higher fucking standard than our natures,
and he wants execution ‘cause he’s failed.
Seth: One minute!
Charlie: What the fuck happened to two?
Al: (Dolly finishes) Talk about one person fucking up another person’s entire fucking
day. (He walks to the balcony, buttoning up along the way, Seth reaches for the
gun in his holster…Al points at Bullock) Wait. (He turns and goes back inside,
Seth drops his hand.)
Sol: (He’s on the porch of the Hardware store watching the scene with Trixie) I had
best go over.
Trixie:Wait. (He stops, she goes back inside)
Al: (to Dolly) You linger awhile. Do no think of thieving, huh? (Picks up his pocket
watch, Dolly wipes her mouth with her ass-poking-thumb-hand. Al walks
downstairs…) Johnny, produce that coal-oil-stinking suit. (Johnny does as told –
Al looks at Dan) Unless you’d rather get it for me. (Dan shakes his head “nah,
That’s alright.”)
Seth: (Outside) I wish the fuck you two would let me finish this the way I prefer.
Jane: Well, we wish to fuck you would find something else to wish for.

(Johnny steps outside – Jane and Charlie take their aim…)

Johnny: Jesus Christ! I’m unarmed (opens his jacket) He’s coming. He’s
detained. Getting dressed.
Jane: Ain’t it always a trial picking out the gown best conceals you fucking pissed
yourself?

(Johnny heads back inside, A.W. Merrick enters the thoroughfare from his printing shed.
Trixie comes back out of the hardware store, a rifle and a six-shooter in her hands…)

Trixie:I recommend the six-shooter, being this rifle’s first recoil’s liable to knock you
unconscious with pain.
Sol: (takes the six-shooter) Thank you.
(Sol steps ahead, Merrick readies his notepad, Trixie aims her rifle…)

Trixie:(Whispers) Selfish cocksucker.

(Dan sets Bullocks Gun and Badge down for Al. Al’s nearly done getting dressed. He
sighs, groans with the effort of dressing, Dan offers him a knife.)
Al: Huh-uh. (Dan offers him a six-shooter, Al shakes his head “no”) That’s not to say
should the situation deteriorate, you boys wouldn’t open fire from concealment,
huh?

(Al picks up the Gun and Badge and proceeds outside. Merrick licks his pencil – Ready
to report! Sol approaches Jane and Charlie…)

Jane: (Scoffs) Hardware Jew at less than full force, now they’ll be fucking quaking.

(Al, holding the gun and badge, steps out onto the porch of the Gem. He & Bullock lock
eyes. Dan peers out the window.)

Al: I regret the delay, I was sequestered. Have been, one thing and another since last
we met. I also apologize for the stink.
Jane: Welcome change from your usual odor of skunk.

(Charlie swats her arm, Seth stares back at her, Al approaches Seth…when Al stops, Seth
looks back at him…)

Al: I offer these, (lifts up the gun & badge) and I hope you’ll wear them a good long
fucking time in this fucking camp, whosever fucking thumb we’re under. And
where it come to me just a few moments ago that the Reverend Smith—may he
rest his soul – he was found on the road, apparently murdered by heathens just
some months ago. What he said on the subject of you, “Mr. Bullock raises a
camp up, and I hope he’ll reside with us and improve our general fucking
atmosphere for a good long fucking time, even with all the personal complications
and fucking disasters that we all fucking have, and where, running away solves
absolutely fucking nothing.”

(Seth, for lack of an immediate response to that, takes his gun & badge from Al)

Seth: (quietly) Did you find my hat?

(Al lifts and eyebrow, turns to the balcony and yells…)

Al: Dolly! (She pokes her head out) Would you look for the Sheriff’s hat? (She nods)
Remember the reverend’s half-dead face, that cock-eyed look like he was the
victim of a lightening stroke, hmm? (Dolly comes out onto the Balcony with
Seth’s hat.) May she sail it down or would that be degrading?
Seth: No.
Al: Toss it, Dolly. (She tosses it down with her ass-poking -cum-wiping-hand) I wish
her aim was as good with her thumb.

(Seth has an “I don’t want to know” look on his face. Al smiles and starts to walk back
inside. Seth puts on his hat. Trixie lowers her gun. Seth looks up at Alma’s window.
She closes the curtain’s on him…)
---
(Inside her room, having just closed the curtains, Alma takes a moment, turns to Miss
Isringhausen and holds out her hand. She’s holding a pocket watch.)

Alma: When the opportunity offers itself, please return this to Mr. Bullock.
Miss Isringhausen: (Takes the watch from Alma’s hand) Yes, Ma’am.

(Alma turns, walks across the room, picks up a pillow from a chair, she walks into the
room where Sophia is still sound asleep, she tucks the pillow behind Sophia and strokes
her hair tenderly.)
---
(Outside in the thoroughfare, Seth is leaving the scene – Merrick in pursuit.)

AW: Mr. Bullock.


Seth: I don’t want to talk about it.
AW: As a practical matter, self-censorship of the rigor which obtains from this camp so
muzzles the press as to make the first amendment a hollow superfluity.
Seth: (To Sol, walking ahead of him) Thank you.
Sol: She can situate me. (Nodding to Trixie)
Seth: Alright.
---
(Outside the cooperage – aka Chez Amie – E.B. is nosing around some barrels, trying to
see what’s going on inside. Sussing out the new trim I suppose. If sussing means spying
like a little weasel.)

Whore: Man says he’s finished, needs to get to his claim.


Maddie: Four hours work, he’s earned two bucks.
Whore: Says he wants to take it in pussy.
Joanie: No, you want cash, Elmer, to convert to pussy at the Gem or Bella Union.
Elmer:Alright, Joanie.
Joanie: And let it be known in camp, close to pussy as two bucks will get a man in
here is a deep whiff walking past.

(The whore holds out Elmer’s two bucks.)

Elmer:Hey, can I, uh (takes his money) get one of those and keep my money?
Joanie: Have at it.
Maddie: Fan some at him, Rosie, as he’s leaving.
(Rosie ruffles her skirt at Elmer – he leans over and takes a deep whiff.)

Elmer:Whoo! Mother, it’s the ocean!

(Elmer walks out, E.B. quickly turns away to hide better behind the barrels before Elmer
or any of the girls see him. He sucks at this.)

Maddie: There’s a rodent-looking creature lamping one of your barrels.


Joanie: Pay him no heed. That’s the mayor.
---
(At the Gem, Al collects the nights take and places it in a cash box.)

Al: You’re tenacious, Merrick, I’ll fucking give you that.


AW: Just tell me how it began.
Al: After the conflict’s genesis, I’d lay it at cunt’s doorstep. Now, had cunt one “n”
and two “t”s or the other way around?
AW: (laughs) Jeez, Al.
Al: You solicited the true account. (Begins walking upstairs to his office, A.W.
follows)
AW: Within the limits of decency.
Al: You want the decent truth, huh?
AW: I choose to believe that truth and decency need not be at odds.
Al: Oh, you’ll hear no argument from me. Let it help me accumulate capital or, at
worst, not interfere, the story is true and decent.
AW: I would define as true and decent in such endeavor, the facts rendered fully within
social standards and sensibilities without bias or abridgement. (They reach the
office door.)
Al: Why do I imagine a snake swallowing it’s tail, huh? (They enter)
AW: Which is to say the economic motive is but one strand in the social tapestry my
exemplary account would weave.
Al: Ass-fucking the dirt worshippers being another, huh, as a pleasure beyond gain?
AW: Now, now, now, now, I, Uh—
Al: Wait, was that your heathen imitation, huh? Jump up and down a few times and
shout out “Whoops,” as in “Whoops, that ass-fucking hurts.”
AW: A more elevated perspective would construe our conduct as white men to be
enacting a manifest destiny.
Al: Whereas the warp, woof and fucking weave of my story’s tapestry would foster
the illusions of further commerce, huh? (Al is now laying down on his bed,
sideways – his ass must hurt that much!) “Tonight, throughout Deadwood (cut to
a shot of Seth, standing before the little footbridge leading to his
house…contemplating) Heads may be laid to pillow assuaged and reassured, for
that purveyor for profit of everything sordid and vicious, Al Swearengen, already
beaten to a fare-thee-well earlier in the day by Sheriff Bullock, has returned to the
Sheriff the implements and ornaments of his office. (Seth crosses the bridge,
steps onto the porch…) Without the tawdry walls of Swearengen’s saloon the
Gem, (Seth enters) decent citizens may pursue with a new and jaunty freedom
(Martha watches Seth enter…) all aspects of Christian commerce. In which
connection, we particularly recommend—“ There you’d throw in the names of a
few businesses gave you good-sized adverts, huh?

(Merrick throws up his hands, backs away to leave. Seth hangs his coat up, Martha
approaches him…)

Seth: May I come in with my boots?


Martha: Of course. (She looks away)
Seth: You haven’t slept?
Martha: I waited for you. (Seth looks down, grabs his badge and gun and walks
over to where William is sleeping…)
Seth: To show the boy when he awakes, I’ve got these back.

(He places them in a basket on the floor near where William is sleeping, his arm hanging
off the side of the bed, the hand gently brushing the basket. Seth moves the basket
slightly back, pulls the blanket up to William’s shoulders, he stands up and approaches
Martha.)

Martha: I saw that you installed a bundling board in the bed upstairs.
Seth: I did.
Martha: I hope you don’t mind that I removed it.
Seth: (pauses) No.

(Martha turns and walks upstairs…Seth eventually follows, as he does, we hear in


voiceover…)

Al: “A full fair-mindedness requires us also to report that within the Gem, on
Deadwood’s main thoroughfare, comely whores, decently priced liquor and the
squarest games of chance in the hills remain unabatedly available at all hours,
seven days a week.”

Cast (in credits order)


Timothy Olyphant .... Seth Bullock
Ian McShane .... Al Swearengen
Molly Parker .... Alma Garret
Jim Beaver .... Ellsworth
Brad Dourif .... Doc Cochran
John Hawkes .... Sol Star
Paula Malcomson .... Trixie
Leon Rippy .... Tom Nuttall
William Sanderson .... Eustis Baily (E.B.) Farnum
Robin Weigert .... Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown .... Dan Dority
Dayton Callie .... Charlie Utter
Anna Gunn .... Martha Bullock
Powers Boothe .... Cy Tolliver / Tolliver
Sean Bridgers .... Johnny Burns
Jeffrey Jones .... A.W. Merrick
Geri Jewell .... Jewel
Bree Seanna Wall .... Sophia
Gill Gayle .... Huckster
Titus Welliver .... Silas Adams
Meghan Glennon .... Lila
Kim Dickens .... Joanie Stubbs
Maddie Alice Krige
Miss Isringhausen Sarah Paulson
William Bullock Josh Eriksson
Hawkeye Monty “Hawkeye” Henson
Dolly Ashleigh Kizer
Channon Roe
Maury Sterling
Nick Amandos
Fiona Dourif
Lila Meghan Glennon

Publicity images & episode content © 2005 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved. HBO and
Deadwood are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2005 Cristi H. Brockway.
The copyright claimed by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her personal contribution of
material not contained in the episode from which this transcript was compiled. Any commercial
use of this transcript is expressly prohibited.
Episode 15: “New Money”

Directed by: Steve Shill


Written by: Elizabeth Sarnoff
Episode 15: “New Money”
(We hear a soft groan as the camera pans across Al’s office. He’s lying on the floor,
shaking, clutching a towel with one hand, and his pelvis with the other. We see his piss-
pot overturned on the floor in front of him, at his head. There’s a small amount of liquid
on the floor, having spilled from it. Downstairs, Dan and Johnny are standing side-by-
side, Dan holding his coffee cup. They’re looking up at the whores gathered upstairs
near Al’s office.)

Dan: (loudly) You want to know when we’re gonna open, Tess? (She nods impatiently)
Well we’re gonna open when me and Johnny fuckin’ say so! And you three,
hoverin’ around like buzzards outside Al’s door, will not hasten the situation.
(normal voice, to Johnny) It was fucking sun up before Al called it quits. Now,
he has earned a sleepin’ in.
Johnny: He locks the door, Dan, when he leaves his office. Al does not lock the
door when he’s inside.
Dan: That’s just the exception that proves the fuckin’ rule.
Johnny: I suppose.

(Out in the thoroughfare, a stagecoach has arrived, men are unloading the baggage as
E.B. greets the new arrival.)

EB: May I ask, Mr. Wolcott, what purpose draws you to our hills?
Wolcott: Gold.
EB: Gold? I see. (Charlie walks past, does a double take at Wolcott) Morning, Mr.
Utter.
Charlie: Morning.
EB: Frequents my buffet religiously.
Wolcott: Yes, I hope to locate and secure an assortment of claims.
EB: An assortment? Shrewd hedging—which makes me think this is not your first
foray.
Wolcott: If it was, I don’t suppose I’d admit it to you. (He touches E.B. on the arm,
as he says this. He then walks over to his luggage, stacked nearby.)
EB: Only confirming my original impression.

(Richardson comes out onto the porch, leaning between the two to toss a bucketful of –
something (I shudder to think what) into the muck. E.B. grabs him by the arm…)

EB: Get his luggage. (To Wolcott) My staff will install your possessions.
Wolcott: I thank you. (He turns to enter the hotel, E.B. scuttles along behind
him…)

---
(At the house that Bullock Built, Martha is pouring Seth his coffee. He’s standing in the
kitchen…)
Seth: You bought provisions. (He takes the coffee cup as Martha places the kettle back
on the stove.)
Martha: During the night…while I was waiting for you to come home.
Seth: It’s a 24-hour camp.
Martha: So I saw.
Seth: (Pauses) Certain things I said yesterday, I regret. I‘ll be grateful if you’d not rely
on them.
Martha: (Nods) All right.
Seth: Representations I made as to letters I’d written—I didn’t.
Martha: I’ll be grateful then if you not rely on my – assurance that I got them. (She
serves Seth his breakfast, could be eggs, could be hash browns. Either way, what
ever it is, looks better than the alternative at E.B.’s absurd restaurant.)
Seth: All right.
Martha: I’ll hold my deepest gratitude, Mr. Bullock, for what will let us live as we
are now.

(Seth kinda looks at her like he’s smiling. Or he has gas. I dunno.)
---
(In the absurd restaurant, Mr. Wolcott is looking for food, he’s finding “food” instead…)

Wolcott : This oatmeal looks old.


EB: It does, doesn’t it? Richardson, Goddamn you! The oatmeal is clotted.
Richardson: Well, it’s 45 minutes yet till the three hours.
EB: Stop spouting gibberish and replace the damned oatmeal.
Wolcott: I’ll make do with the bacon. (sniffs his plate…they walk over to a table,
E.B. wipes off a chair and pulls it out for Wolcott.)
EB: A camp like this, (He hovers over Wolcott’s shoulder) one draws one’s menials
from a small and brackish pool.

(We see Maddie and Joanie across the room, having breakfast. Maddie’s eyes light when
she notices Wolcott, as she’s sipping her tea.)

EB: Once the pig is digested, perhaps we could pursue a possibility that’s come to
mind.
Wolcott: If the spirit still moves in you, sure.
EB: Maybe we could do it now?

(Maddie meets Joanies eyes, she tries to silently communicate to Joanie about the man
across the room. Joanie doesn’t get it.)

Wolcott: No. Let’s let your mind ripen and mature the possibly first.
Maddie: (She sets down her coffee cup, says to Joanie…) The creature I saw
outside our place last night, who you said is the camp’s mayor, now perches like a
vulture over that man at breakfast.
EB: Of course, Certainly.
Joanie: Farnum. He owns the hotel.
Maddie: Have you affection for Mayor Farnum?
Joanie: (shaking her head) None.
Maddie: Good. Because the man the mayor expects to digest is going to toy and
play with Mr. Farnum from camouflage for as long as he finds it amusing. And
then make him a meal of his own.
Joanie: Who is the man?
Maddie: A trick. A specialist. Who asks to be called Mr. W.

(Wolcott chews away on his bacon, seemingly enjoying it.)


---
(At the Gem, E.B. has scuttled his was over, and is knocking on the locked doors…)

EB: E.B. Farnum demanding entry.

(Johnny looks to Dan, shaking his head about E.B., Dan nods to the bartender, seated at
a table by the door, to let the scuttlebutt inside. He does so, showing E.B. in with a
Vanna White style sweep of the arm…)

EB: Summon Al.


Johnny: He’s not summonable.
EB: For the news I bear, he’ll be plenty summonable.
Dan: Why don’t you go on up and summon him yourself, E.B?
EB: Happily. (He walks to the stairs, pulling off his sweat sopped gloves…)
Dan: He’s behind lock and key.
EB: (stops) You’re certain he’s within?
Johnny: Called out to my knock, said, “Get the fuck away.”
EB: Fornication demanding discretion or a bribe.
Dan: He’s fuckin’ alone, and he’s gonna stay that way until he chooses to be otherwise.
Johnny: I think he’s fuckin’ poorly. (E.B. strokes his chin beast in thought…) His
voice has got a gravelly timbre.
Dan: Want to leave a message?
EB: In fact, I do. Yes. “Al, if you’re not dead and already molderin’, I send news to
revive you. A fish to rival the fabled leviathan has swum into our waters. Get
well soon and we will land the cocksucker together. Your Friend, E.B.” (He
nods, happy with his message, starts to leave…he stops, turns back to the guys…)
You might add as a postscript, “I also have the news you dispatched me to secure
of the newly arrived cunt.” Please. (He leaves, a befuddled Dan and Johnny
watching him do so.)
---
(Outside the house that Bullock Built, William is talking to a little red-headed boy. He’s
on one side of the footbridge, the boy on the other side.)

Boy: You just move here?


William: Just yesterday.
Boy: I watched the Sheriff build this house.
William: Mr. Bullock’s my Pa’s brother, that married my mom when my Pa got
killed. So now he’s my Pa and my Uncle.
Boy: (Points down the creek) Big Trout lives in that deep part down there.
Boy’s Dad: Damon! (Nice, the red-headed boy has a name that reminds me of Satan.
Incidentally, Damon is a Greek name, meaning “Constant.” Guess not in this
case – huh?)
Damon: Coming! My Pa and me are going to grow apples in Oregon.
William: Will you come back?
Damon: (Backing down the steps, toward his father’s wagon…) Pa says we ain’t
never coming back. (William looks disappointed, aww. So much for his
“constant” friend.) Keep your eye on that rainbow. I call him Jumbo.

(Damon leaves and hops in his father’s wagon. Will walks a few steps to the end of the
footbridge…Seth comes outside and stands just behind him, his badge gleaming from it’s
rightful place – yep, on the tit.)

Seth: Morning, William.

(William steps up to Seth and shakes his hand.)

William: Morning Mr. Bullock. You got your gun and badge back.
Seth: I did. I put ‘em in that basket for you to see.
William: Did you fight that man again?
Seth: (Shakes his head) No. We didn’t have to fight.
William: (Nods his head towards Damon’s wagon) That boy is going to Oregon.
Seth: (Looks at Damon’s wagon leaving town, Damon is still looking back…) There’s a
trout that loiters just downstream there.
William: The boy called him Jumbo.

(Seth walks across the footbridge, down the steps, turns back to William…)

Seth: Maybe after work we can make him pay for his slothful ways.

(William nods his head in agreement, Seth turns and leaves.)


---
(Up in the hills, Alma is cruising her claim on Ellsworth’s arm. Machinery clanging
loudly. The machine is labeled “Risdon Iron Works San Francisco Cal.” It has 5 large
iron rods clanging up and down, propelled by a giant wheel.)

Alma: (loudly) Does the scope of the find, Mr. Ellsworth, warrant more than the five-
stamp mill we operate with now?
Ellsworth: (loudly) Oh, no question, Ma’am. Your holdings justify 25 stamps easy.
Just a matter of waiting till the legalities get resolved.
Alma: (loudly) And why would the purchase of a larger machine await legal resolution?
Ellsworth: (loudly) Well, Ma’am, ‘cause without title, you wouldn’t own no quartz
for your 25-stamp machine to crush.

(Alma admires her mill…)


---
(Seth is standing in the entryway of the hotel, Richardson presents Miss Isringhausen &
Sophia to him as they come down the stairs…)

Miss Isringhausen: Good morning, Mr. Bullock.


Seth: (Takes off his hat) Good morning. Good morning, Sophia.
Sophia: Good morning.
Miss Isringhausen: Mrs. Garret has gone to see her claim.
Seth: (Looking up at the door to Alma’s room) Has she?
Miss Isringhausen: Yes, with Mr. Ellsworth.
Seth: I see.
Miss Isringhausen: She asked if I saw you, please to give you this back. (She holds out
his pocket watch.) Sophia can learn on another watch.
Seth: (Quickly grabs the watch from her hand, looking at Sophia, puts it in his pocket)
All Right. When opportunity permits, you might inquire of Mrs. Garret, as few
children as are in the camp—
Miss Isringhausen: I take your meaning, Mr. Bullock.
Seth: If she decided it was appropriate, other parties would be delighted and grateful.
Miss Isringhausen: Yes, well, she will have to decide that.
Seth: Yes.

(Miss Isringhausen and Sophia turn, walking back upstairs. Seth puts his hat back on
and leaves. E.B., carrying in Mr. Wolcott’s bags, passes him in the entryway.)

EB: The camp pugilist.


---
(Maddie & Joanie walk along the thoroughfare, back to Chez Amie.)

Maddie: Fond as I am of you, Joanie, I wouldn’t have brought my girls and my


own tired ass out here on just your kind invitation.
Joanie: The trick sweetened the prospect of Mr. W?

(We see Wolcott being shown to his room by E.B.)

Maddie: He offered on one of my girls to bring her out here. Being as Mr. W is
chief lookout for George Hearst—that struck biggest in the Comstock and
Mexico—I knew he’d just endorse the camp’s future. (As E.B. helps settle Mr. W
into his room…) Short side, Mr. W enjoys being cranky with his women. (They
brush off the much from the thoroughfare from their boots as they reach their
doorstep) But sometimes when disappointed his crankiness runs away with him.
Joanie: (looking up at Maddie) What’s gonna disappoint him?
Maddie: Devious sort that I am, I’ve got the girl he’s interested in on ice.

---
(Back in the hotel room, E.B. hands Wolcott his key…)

Wolcott: Thank you.


EB: (sitting down) Mr. Wolcott I’m the custodian—note I do not say owner—of Wild
Bill Hickok’s final earthly communication. (Takes the letter from his inside jacket
pocket, hands it to Wolcott…)
Wolcott: It’s damp. (Shakes it)
EB: Mr. Wolcott, (grabs the letter) not an hour before giving me the letter, Bill
confided to me, having come upon a quartz deposit promising in Bill’s own words
“Wealth beyond counting.” How much wealth is that? I don’t know, Mr.
Wolcott. I don’t know how high Bill could count.
Wolcott: How much do you want me to pay?

(E.B. laughs, gets up from the bed where he was seated, retrieves another bag from the
hall…)

EB: I’d hardly expect you to pay anything. Imagining rather I will pay you your cost
(strains as he brings in a bag) to see the letter delivered to it’s proper recipient.
Plus $100…set against whatever profits you may generate. (He groans as he
drags in a heavy trunk) Should delivery prove impossible…from the information
the letter contains.
Wolcott: (stroking his beard) So, this set-off against profits I might gain in the
event that this letter, proving undeliverable, contains such valuable information,
have you an amount in mind?
EB: $10,000.
Wolcott: Less the $100 you would pay me?
EB: Correct.
Wolcott: $9,900 net then, me to you.
EB: Yes.
Wolcott: And I would pay you that now before attempting the letter’s delivery?
EB: Oh, yes. Once you have the letter, all my connection to it is severed.
Wolcott: I see.
EB: To deliver it or not, or whatever the hell you want to do.
Wolcott: (standing up) Well, you will have my decision shortly.
EB: Fine then.
Wolcott: Uh, for the luggage. (Offers E.B. a tip)
EB: Oh no. I wouldn’t hear of it. It was my great pleasure. (turns to leave) I trust I
will, uh, hear from(high voice, throws up his hands) you soon. (nods, leaves.)

---
(Back at the hardware store, Trixie is pulling up her beetlejuice looking stockings and
lacing her boots as Sol lays in bed…)

Sol: I see now what it takes to bring you back into my life.
Trixie:Just passing through, Mr. Star.
Sol: Even so, (getting up) it makes a man glad he has three limbs left to be damaged.
Seth: (Enters the store…) Morning.

(He closes the door and heads back. Trixie looks at Sol with some trepidation about the
new arrival.)
Trixie:A man can get me in his life with five bucks. $2 if he just needs a handshake.
Seth: (Clears his throat) Good morning.
Sol: Morning.
Seth: Morning.

(Trixie grabs her cigarettes, puts them in her special cigarette holder – her breasts – and
makes to leave…)

Sol: Trixie! (She stops & looks at him) Many thanks. (He stands, holds out his hand,
she takes it, he shakes it) Ah.

(They smile, what a funny fucking Jew. Trixie leaves. Sol sits back down, Seth pulls up a
chair, sitting across from Sol. We hear the door shut.)

Seth: How bad does that pain?


Sol: It’s all right.
Seth: I’m in my house, Sol.
Sol: With Martha and the boy?
Seth: Chose not to put ‘em in the thoroughfare. (Sol raises his eyebrows) Or, I see what
you’re asking. Far as her having a different opinion, possibly, once I showed up--
no, she chose to stay.
Sol: Well, good. (Seth stands) Anyways, could you open up?
Seth: Sure, glad to. Any help with your person?
Sol: No, I’m all right.
Seth: (Walking to the front) Swearengen said the county commissioners are all from
Yankton.
Sol: When was this?
Seth: Just before we hit the mud. (I think he’s smiling!) It’s wrong the hills get no
representation.
Sol: Even in an Eden like this, wrongs sometimes occur.
Seth: (Walks to the back) I meant maybe we should try to do something about it.
Sol: I’m with you.
---
(Doc, outside of Al’s door…)

Doc: God damn it, Al! Such as they are, my arts cannot be practiced at this remove.
(He knocks – listens a moment, hears nothing.) Stop being a baby! (Still hears
nothing. He speaks softly…) Any secrets that you feel need keeping will not be
betrayed by me. (Trixie approaches)
Trixie:Doc.
Doc: Trixie. (loudly) Rest, uninterrupted. No visits, no exception. (Shakes his head
and approaches Trixie.)
Trixie:From his fray with Bullock he’s poorly, or his trouble with his prick?
Doc: (whispers) If you can get him to grant you entry, maybe you’ll confide that to me?
(Doc leaves to go downstairs, Trixie approaches Al’s door, knocks softly, almost petting
the door…)

Trixie:It’s Trixie – that’s overheard the Doc’s instruction. So let me just shout my
information from here. (We see Al, in the same, shaking position on the floor he
was before…) Nobody’s dead. Bullock’s gone to that house he built. Star is on
his feet, more or less. (Al is writhing in pain) Anyways, I’m gonna stay on the ear
over to the hardware store.
Al: (strained) Yeah.
Trixie:(Pauses) Fucking telegraph poles, Al, are the next thing to landed in the fucking
thoroughfare. Next leap of the creature, they’ll be here. (She pauses, still hearing
nothing) All right, Al.

(Al whimpers in pain. Trixie strides downstairs, determined. She approaches Dan at the
bar...)

Trixie:Where’s fucking Dolly?


Dan: Fuckin’.
Trixie:When was she last with him?
Dan: Daybreak, just before he give Bullock back his iron.
Johnny: We’ve seen him after she did.
Trixie:(To Johnny) You brew him my fucking tea. Put it on a tray, take it up to him and
make him fucking drink it.
Johnny: All right.
Trixie:(To Dan) If he don’t present himself in a few hours, kick down the door and get
the fucking Doc in there.

(She downs a shot and leaves. Dan, concerned, massages his temples, thinking on the
plight of his beloved mentor…)
---
(Wolcott enters the Bella Union, Cy nods to Lila to greet him, she stands and grabs his
elbow, attaching herself to him like a barnacle…)

Lila: I’m Lila. Welcome to the Bella Union. (She strokes his hand)
Wolcott: And I’m Frances Wolcott, which I would be grateful if you would tell
your employer.
Lila: (Escorts Wolcott over to Cy, standing at the bar…) This is Frances Wolcott, Cy.
Cy: Cy Tolliver, Mr. Wolcott. How do you do, and what’ll you drink?
Wolcott: Kentucky Bourbon if you got it.
Cy: Pour Mr. Wolcott a bourbon, Jack, and tell him it’s from Kentucky.
Jack: Kentucky Bourbon. Straight up?
Wolcott: Please.
Cy: Shall we have Lila drink with us, or would you like to drink with Lila alone?
Wolcott: I would rather we two converse privately.

(Cy motions with a nod of his head, for Lila to beat it. She walks to the other end of the
bar…)
Cy: Just talk now, sir? I’m not that kind of fella.
Wolcott: Maybe you’re just waiting for the right offer. (drinks)
Cy: It’s late in the game, but I suppose anything is possible. (drinks)
Wolcott: Will you take the air?
Cy: If I’m to lose my virtue, I’d as soon do it outside these walls.

(They walk outside, Cy puffing on his cigar…)

Wolcott: You’ve approached a group in San Francisco that does business with my
employer.
Cy: That group and employer bullshit really quickens me with fuckin’ trust.
Wolcott: That group you’ve approached is a fraternal Chinese organization.
Cy: “Tong” is not a clever enough word?
Wolcott: You offered them a contract to send members to this camp. That
organization has a pre-existing arrangement with my employer.
Cy: So you work for who, Wolcott? The railroads, some mining combination that
brings those slant-eyes in by the boatload?
Wolcott: No, sir. I work for one man.
Cy: Jesus Christ. Doesn’t every one of us?
Wolcott: George Hearst.
Cy: (The smirk falls from his face) I meant no disrespect of any kind to you or Mr.
Hearst by any word I’ve said from the moment we have met.
Wolcott: I understand that.
Cy: I have nothing but respect for Mr. Hearst. He’s in the Comstock of Montana,
every other place he’s ever operated, without jape or jest.
Wolcott: And the overture you made to the group in San Francisco showed
imagination and foresight and a tolerance for risk that was impressive to Mr.
Hearst. We want to work with you here.
Cy: (Blinks in disbelief) You do?
Wolcott: Yes, we do.

(Cy smiles, nods over to Con Stapleton & Leon over in the Chinese quadrant of the
thoroughfare. The original Frick and Frack, they are.)

Cy: Con Stapleton! Leon! (They begin to approach) Get over here and meet a fucking
gentleman! Those two work for me now among the Celestials, setting up that
(nods to Mr. Wu, glaring over at him) miserable cocksucker to get knocked off his
high horse. Con, Leon. (They’ve just about arrived behind Wolcott)
Wolcott: I don’t want to meet them.
Cy: (pauses) Go inside. (Leon eyes Wolcott, Con looks expectantly at Cy.) Meet me
inside.
Con: Yes, sir.
Leon: Yes, sir, Mr. Tolliver.
Cy: Just go on in, fellas. (They do.)
Wolcott: My only contact’s with you.
Cy: As far as they’re concerned, you and Mr. Hearst don’t even exist.
Wolcott: As far as you’re concerned, Cy, (Wu glares) in the tasks you’ll be
performing for him, Mr. Hearst doesn’t either.
Cy: (smirks) Who?
---
(In Charlie’s freight building, he opens a jail cell door, we see Jane, bare footed,
sleeping on a cot under a fur “blanket.”)

Charlie: Wake up. Take account you’re indoors. (He pours a glass of water while
Jane grumpily stirs…) Here. (Offers her the cup, she sits up, blearily, goes to
take a sip…) That’s water now.
Jane: Oh, get it the fuck away from me then.
Charlie: Drink it and don’t be stupid.
Jane: (Takes a sip, looks around) Oh, Christ, are we arrested?
Charlie: I explained all this to you, Jane, that I’m the fucking Deputy, and I fixed
the overflow cell in case you come back.
Jane: Shut up then. (She lays back down.)
Charlie: And you replied I was boring the shit out of you ‘cus Doc already told you
all about it.
Jane: Well, evidently, I don’t remember fuck-all.
Charlie: No, ‘cause after every other fucking think we went through last night, you
got to make us stop at that new joint across from Nuttall’s.
Jane: Would you kindly shut your fucking mouth? (Charlie stands up) Hey, what the
fuck’s Bill’s coat doing here? (She sits up, in awe and confusion.)
Charlie: Well, he wouldn’t have seen it useless or a souvenir. I figured I’d give it
work keeping the bed warm.
Jane: Uh, where is it headed now I’m the occupant?
Charlie: It ain’t going anywheres.
Jane: (She smiles, looks at the coat, lays back down) Thank you, Charlie.

(Charlie smiles and leaves.)


---
(At the Chez Amie, quick set up! In one night they’ve got it all decorated with furniture,
draperies, wallpaper, the whole shebang! The whores are lounging around, bored.)

Joanie: It’s cool. Sit outside. (She opens the door and the girls stand, exiting…)
Wide knees. (She shuts the door behind them.)
Maddie: Are we gonna argue?
Joanie: We’re partners, ain’t we, Maddie? Ain’t that a lot of planning and
thinking to not let your partner in on?
Maddie: Not sharing it before I even knew the trick was in camp—don’t put me
wrong, Joanie.
Joanie: It don’t put you right, far as an atmosphere of trust.
Maddie: Joanie, was there any odds when me and my girls got out here that you
might have told us you’d changed your mind?
Joanie: I guess there was a chance.
Maddie: Or I’d have found you dead or moved along?
Joanie: No chance on moved along.
Maddie: Only way to guarantee an outcome, Honey, is contracting to be fucked.
Everything else is a chance – including me letting you down. But if I do, using
my head won’t be the tip-off. (She sits)
Joanie: How will you bring the girl in to it?
Maddie: At the trick’s fierce insistence.
Joanie: What’s our split?
Maddie: 50-50 (She lounges back in the chair.)
Joanie: What’s the girl’s end?
Maddie: I wouldn’t rule out a wooden box. (Joanie’s eyes stop at that remark.)
---
(At the hardware store, Seth lays a pick axe down on the counter for a customer…)

Seth: Timely purchase. That’s our last in stock. (The customer nods, takes the pick axe
and leaves.)
Sol: Goddamn out-thinking myself—resupplying in smaller orders.
Seth: You’ve been dealing with a few uncertainties.
Sol: If the claims get allowed or they don’t, or Yankton stacks the commissioners or
not, we’re either in business, or we ain’t, and if we are, you reduce costs buying in
volume.
Seth: Your old man?
Sol: On his death bed in fucking Vienna.

(Seth chokes back a laugh, Charlie enters, holding a box.)

Charlie: Fellas. (To Sol) On the mend?


Sol: Doing better, thank you. Hope you are too.
Charlie: (To Seth) We was gonna thin these inquiries yesterday before that trouble
with Bummer Dan. (Holds up the box.)
Seth: We’ve been gonna thin them for several weeks.
Charlie: Is Farnum’s slop-house okay? Jane is sleeping a load off in my place. (Sol
looks to Seth.)
Seth: (To Sol) Inquiries from other jurisdictions, we’ve been somewhat remiss.
Charlie: Whose that fella said “Never put off till tomorrow what’ll wait till the day
after?”
Sol: Not my old man.

(Seth turns and smiles, leaves, Charlie follows with a smile…)


---
(Wolcott slams an envelope of money down on E.B’s check-in desk…)

Wolcott: To buy the Hickok letter.


EB: Wonderful.

(E.B. puts his hand on the envelope, Wolcott does as well, stopping him…)

Wolcott: Uh, I’ll have a bill of sale.


EB: Well, certainly, sir. Of course. Uh…(Picks up his notebook, dips his quill in ink
and starts writing.) For reasons of legal nicety, we’ll say you’re purchasing the
right to deliver.
---
(Jewel & Doc are at Al’s door, She knocks…)

Jewel: You gotta let me get to your piss-pot, Al. (Dan & Johnny watch from below.)
Otherwise, when your mood changes, you’re fucking gonna yell at me for not
doing it. (Doc nods to her) I think I should get the Doc, Al. You need to let the
Doc in. You need to let him see to you. When I was sick, the Doc helped me.
And you ain’t fucking yelled since then my foot’s dragging. (She pounds the
door, turns to Doc…) Fuck this, right, Doc?
Doc: (nodding) Fuck it.
Jewel: (yelling) Dan! You need to fucking break the door down.
Dan: (yelling) Now?
Jewel: Isn’t that what I just fucking said?

(Dan runs hell-for-leather up the stairs, Johnny following, tripping over himself and the
others on the stairs as he tries to keep up with Dan.)

Dan: (yelling) Al!


Jewel: If I was you, Doc, I would get out of the fucking way!

(Dan charges the door with his shoulder, he slams into it…)

Dan: Ow! Jesus fucking Christ! Uh. (Kicks down the door, grabbing his shoulder…)

(Doc runs in, Dan’s clutching his shoulder, Johnny leans toward him…)

Johnny: You all right?


Dan: Mm…I think I broke my fucking shoulder.

(Doc steps over to Al, still laying on the floor, writhing in pain.)

Doc: (To Jewel) Would you open up my case? (Jewel kneels down and opens Doc’s
medical bag…) Al? (Al twitches) Al, Al?

(He probes Al’s bladder, Al scrunches up in pain. Johnny watches with his hand over his
mouth, not sure what to do, Dan’s still clutching his shoulder.)

Jewel: Do we need to get him laudanum?


Doc: Please. (Johnny looks to Dan & back…Jewel gets out a bottle of laudanum…) All
right, Al. (Holds Al’s forehead) All right, It’s all right.
---
(Seth & Charlie are sitting in E.B’s restaurant, Seth’s reading from a letter…)

Seth: “Please don’t let up on the Stackpole case, as I’m sure he’s out there.”
(Seth looks up at Charlie, Charlie looks back with a completely blank face.)

Charlie: No idea.
Seth: I never hear of it either.
Charlie: All the portions you had on your plate, I hesitated to fucking inquire.
Seth: I couldn’t have helped if you had.
Charlie: Fuck the Stackpole case then, and the letter from Arapaho County
concerning it. Which goes in the fucked-case file. (He tosses the letter under his
hat, laying on the table.)
---
(Alma & Ellsworth are traveling back from the claim, the wagon bumping along…)

Alma: I’d like to buy Mr. Farnum’s hotel.


Ellsworth: To do what with, Mrs. Garret?
Alma: To renovate and make my residence.
Ellsworth: I can think of better locations, Ma’am. With friendlier views.
Alma: None that would offer the further pleasure of putting Mr. Farnum in the
thoroughfare.
Ellsworth: I expect a man like Farnum finds quarters pretty easy.
Alma: I would expect even with his venality satisfied, a man like Farnum would feel
himself dispossessed and unanchored. I think he’d be very sad, and I would like
to see him in that condition.
Ellsworth: I guess most of us got enough luck to be too broke to act on them type
ideas. (The wagon stops in front of the hotel, Ellsworth gets up to climb out.)
Alma: What type ideas do you refer to?
Ellsworth: The type the lowborn would say we get when we’re pissed off. (Ellsworth
steps out of the wagon) Although…my own aristocratic lineage causes me to use
the term “sore-disappointed.” (He helps her down.)
Alma: I am pissed off.
Ellsworth: Well, last turns the wheels took for you, Ma’am, I’d say you’ve come by it
honest. If punching somebody in the nose would help, I’ll volunteer one that’s
well broke in.

(They enter the hotel, Alma turns her head toward the restaurant and sees Seth. Their
eyes meet. Alma steels her resolve and continues upstairs…)

EB: Safely returned.

(Alma stops, takes a deep breath, grabs her skirts and walks upstairs.)
---
(Trixie enters the hardware store and closes the door.)

Trixie:Is he here too?


Sol: No. (Trixie approaches Sol) He’s my friend, Trixie.
Trixie:Among other fucking things. (She smokes a cigarette, pacing.) Anyways…I
wonder could you teach me to do accounts?
Sol: All right.
Trixie:I’ll pay you. Or you can take it out in cunt.
Sol: I won’t teach you if you keep that up.
Trixie:Fuck every fucking one of you. I wish I was a fucking tree.

(She mashes her cigarette out and leaves…Sol staring after her…)
---
(E.B. is at his ledger…)

EB: Mr. Wolcott.


Wolcott: Mr. Farnum. The contents of that letter are a deep disappointment. Not a
word of any find or promising location.
EB: You opened it then?
Wolcott: Are you trifling with me?
EB: It occurs to me, sir, this conversation were best had elsewhere. (He puts the
cashbox behind the desk.)
Wolcott: But not postponed?
EB: Not postponed, Mr. Wolcott, no. (E.B. puts on his hat & walks out from behind
the desk.) We are men, sir. When we disagree, we come to resolution promptly.
Wolcott: Where are we going?

(E.B. places his hand on Wolcott’s shoulder, leading him outside…)

EB: The Gem Saloon. It’s just over there.


Wolcott: Please take your hand off my shoulder.

(E.B. quickly does as told, they walk across the thoroughfare towards the Gem…)

EB: Some ancient Italian maxim fits our situation, whose particulars escape me.
Wolcott: Is the gist that I’m shit outta luck?
EB: Did they speak that way then?

(They enter the Gem, Wolcott removes his hat…We hear Dan screaming at the top of his
lungs…)

Dan: (yelling) Oh for the love of God!

(The patrons turn around to see where the yell came from, we see Doc leaving the room
where the good Reverend met his end, carrying a stick and rope contraption, having set
Dan’s shoulder.)

EB: Please, won’t you sit down?


Wolcott: So you would have me take the experience then as a lesson dearly
purchased?

(They sit, Dan stumbles out of the back room into the bar. In obvious pain, but trying to
look tough, he holds his arm stiffly by his side…)
EB: I should tell you, Mr. Wolcott, I have seen men in this very camp, (Wolcott eyes
Dan) feeling themselves victimized, seek redress in fashions I thought imprudent.
Wolcott: Violently, you mean?
EB: Thus, at the lesson, dearly bought as you would have it, is where I would leave
this business.
Wolcott: In any case, I was an intermediary in this transaction.
EB: Ah, then, having been a pupil, it falls to you now to instruct your principal. I
wonder, Mr. Wolcott, if some second letter couldn’t be drafted to put some
sharper point on the lesson, maybe remunerative to both of us.
Wolcott: So, your idea would be that we fuck Mr. Hearst twice?
EB: I missed the name, sir, but I can aver as a general principle, (Dan, hops a bit,
trying to get his arm to flop on the bar, gives up and drags it onto the bar by the
cuff, across from Johnny. He smiles, like nothing’s wrong.) My days of fucking
anyone are long in the past, whomever you represent.
Wolcott: George Hearst of the Ophir find in the Comstock.
EB: Of course I know George Hearst. (He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.)
Wolcott: Oh, you know him personally?
EB: I do not know him personally, I do not know him personally.
Wolcott: Oh.
EB: But of course I know of George Hearst, and his reputation and accomplishments
and wealth, and his power and reputation. And I would say, as well, most
importantly, I have nothing to teach that man. George Hearst need learn no lesson
from me. Nor would I permit him entrance into a lesson, either inadvertently or
by accident, I wouldn’t subsequently and immediately cancel him back out of. Or
his agent or intermediary.
Wolcott: Mr. Hearst doesn’t renege on contracts.
EB: (pauses ) Then what am I to do? What am I to do, Mr. Wolcott, (stands up to
move to the chair next to Wolcott) but to admit a terrible and tragic miscalculation
and supplicate myself and beg mercy (EB sits down now in the new chair, Wolcott
moves his hat out of E.B’s way…) and understanding and forgiveness? (He puts
his hand on Wolcott’s arm) And to aver, if you would contemplate, any separate
or side transaction or understanding.
Wolcott: Remove your hand from my forearm. (E.B. jumps to obey) Do not touch
me again.
EB: (He clasps his hands, looking down @ the table) I look poor, but that is a
cultivated pose and posture. I am not poor and I am not stingy when fundamental
interests are at stake—(he leans over and spits on the floor) as a complete aside.
Wolcott: (looks contemplative) There is a service you could do Mr. Hearst that
would set off exactly against the funds he might otherwise believe you fleeced
him of.
EB: Anything, Sir.
Wolcott: This service would enlist you and one or two others, circulating certain
rumors about the future of the camp. In particular, about the validity of the
present titles to the claims.
EB: (considers this) Done. Consider me enlisted. Consider the validity called into
question.
Wolcott: (In hushed tones) I also wish to know the location of your highest-end
brothel.
EB: As it happens, a whorehouse succeeding to that title has just opened.
Wolcott: (leans in quickly to E.B.) Nothing just happened, Mr. Farnum. (He puts on
his hat, sits back in his chair, trying to look distinguished, he looks at E.B.) Do
you think this hat makes my head look big?
EB: No, Sir. It makes your head look the perfect size.
Wolcott: (looks off into the distance) Thank you.
---
(Cy is showing out a group of customers, quickly shutting door behind them. He strides
up stairs, looking down upon his employees, who are gathered expectantly.)

Cy: (sighs) You’re gonna find out somethin’ now about yourselves and your fellow
man, how you handle adversity—or rumors of adversity—or ill fortune, or turns
of luck. And I’m not going to further rumor or be a party to that bullshit. Do you
what to know where I stand? You just look the fuck where I’m standing. You’ll
find out all you need to know. I ain’t going anywhere! And if anyone else wants
to, two weeks fuckin’ severance is waiting for you right fuckin’ now. You step
the fuck up! Step right the fuck up! (They all look around at each other) Now
that shows me somethin’. But any time, day or night, anyone wants to fuckin’
waver or fuckin’ change their minds, you just step right the fuck up and get your
severance. (pauses) Let’s open the fuck up and get it while we can, all right?
Leon: (turns to the rest) Open up!
Con: Open up! You heard him! Let’s go!

(As the rest ready the Bella Union for opening, Con and Leon confer with each other…)
---
(Doc is holding a probe – with a curved end – by a pair of tongs, having just sterilized it
in boiling water.)

Trixie:What are you going to do to him?


Doc: Pass this instrument through his penis into his bladder. If he has stones, it will
click against the metal instrument. Assuming I can hear the clicks above his
screams, I will have identified the cause of his obstruction.
Trixie:To what fucking end?
Doc: To the end that if I think he will die otherwise of cutting him open above the
pubis and taking out the stones. (He traces on his body where he means)
Trixie:Which will probably kill him anyways.
Doc: (steps closer to her) What shall I say to you, Trixie, that I’m sure of a happy
outcome for Al and every one of us?
---
(Cy is sitting in his office, there’s a knock at the door, Con & Leon poke their heads in
the door. My God, Con looks just like the doorman from Emerald City.)

Leon: Minute for us, Mr. Tolliver?


Cy: What is it? (They don’t know what to say) Come in and shut the door. (They enter,
Leon closes the door, they look expectantly at Cy.) What the fuck is it?
Con: Anything you want to tell us, Mr. T?
Cy: I told you all I want to tell you outside.
Con: Well, believe me, uh, you don’t have waverers standing in front of you, or
doubters or, uh, anyone looking for fucking severance.
Leon: Just the opposite.
Cy: What‘s that mean? You lookin’ for a raise?

(They stare at Cy, unsure of how to say what they want to know without pissing him off
more.)

Con: Uh, well, what’s going on, I suppose is Leon’s question, Mr. Tolliver.

(Cy and Con both look at Leon, he is seriously uncomfortable.)

Leon: The truth is, my questions is answered 90%. And as for the rest, I’m gonna get
good and fuckin’ loaded (Cy picks at his ear) and let the devil take the hindmost.
Con: If you fuckin’ walk out of here, us two are gonna have words. (Cy is still picking
in his ear) And more than words at my first opportunity, (Cy looks at what he’s
mined from his ear) because this was 90% his idea to come in here.
Cy: Somebody better turn over a hole card.
Leon: (They both approach closer) Both of us took a real positive impression, Sir, of the
talk you give us just recently here in your office.
Con: Yeah, relative to this talk you just concluded.
Cy: And?
Con: And, uh, I guess you’d say a wonderment with us is if we mistook the tone of one
talk or the other, and if so, which?
Cy: (stands) I dispute that one fuckin’ thing changed between those two talks as to my
attitude and resolve.
Leon: (nods) Did the facts of the camp situation change?
Cy: (mulls this over) Not to my certain knowledge. But if you’re asking in the
interim, have I been privy to a rumor far as claims being invalidated, all titles
thrown out, the answer is yes. (Leon’s face falls at this news, concerned. Con just
smiles like a dumbass at Cy.)
Con: Well, that would account for it.
Cy: But the only goddamn fact that I’m aware of is I never knew any man ate a rumor
or clothed himself with one or secured himself a piece of pussy.
Con: Well, rumors are not facts.
Cy: So if any gutless cocksucker tumbles to what‘s going on and decides he wants to
cut and run, sell his fucking holdings, you tell him to come see me. Just say Cy
Tolliver will buy whatever he’s fuckin’ selling if he has that little faith in the
camp, or rumors of judicial invalidation, or the panic that‘ll ensue from that. (He
sighs, waves the guys away) Go ahead, boys. Go on outside and do your jobs.
That’s all we can fuckin’ do right now. And not waver.

(They leave the office.)


---
(Jane and Trixie are outside, each taking a long pull from a bottle – perhaps beer by the
looks of it. Interesting fact, in 1877 Anheuser & Co. of St. Louis began shipping beer in
refrigerated train cars. So, one is led to believe the comments Jane makes about
progress and needing to go get whiskey, allude to the fact that they are consuming beer.)

Jane: (belches) Ah. Now that’s fucking progress.


Trixie:Cocksucker upstairs, across the way, whorehouse where I work—
Jane: He is a fucking cocksucker.
Trixie:Locks the fucking door so people can’t get to help him. (yelling) Fucking
ashamed to be sick!
Jane: You know he had a design to murder that little one.
Trixie:(looks at Jane) No, I didn’t.
Jane: Hell, yes, he had a design. Charlie and me spirited her from camp, forced him to
a second victim more suitable to his cocksucker’s purpose.
Trixie:Think they’re any different if they’d had their fucking dicks cut on? They ain’t
no fucking different. You gotta like their friends or they won’t teach you
numbers or every other fucking regulation they set!
Jane: (eyes Trixie, confused) Anyways.
Trixie:Far as it fucking goes, he also brought the cripple from that orphanage.
Jane: Uh—what orphanage?
Trixie:And don’t buy his bullshit about the 9 cent trick.
Jane: What cripple?
Trixie:Jewel—that he says he’s got around against some hooplehead only having 9 cents
and wanting a piece of pussy. That ain’t it. Why she’s around is…it’s his sick
fucking way of protectin’ her.
Jane: (pauses, looks at Trixie) I’m gonna get whiskey.
Trixie:There’s entries on both sides of the fucking ledger is the fucking point, as I
already talk like a fucking Jew!
Jane: (pauses again—really not sure what the fuck Trixie is talking about) Shaping up
to be a nice cool evening. (pauses, looks at Trixie, who is staring angrily up at
the balcony) Maybe he has a good side to him too that I entirely fucking missed.
It’s always fucking possible, drunk as I am fucking continuously (She smiles at
Trixie, steps away, waving) It’s nice to see you.
(She waits for Trixie to do/say something. Trixie just continues drinking, staring up at
the Gem balcony. Jane leaves)
---
(Alma and Miss Isringhausen are seated on the bed in Alma’s room…)

Alma: You returned his timepiece.


Miss Isringhausen: Yes. (She nods and smiles) I thought I had told you.
Alma: You did, Miss Isringhausen. I’m recurring to the topic, hoping you will be more
expansive.
Miss Isringhausen: He accepted the timepiece, Ma’am, and raised another subject you
and I ought pursue at some different moment.
Alma: Must I credit the right of that “ought,” Miss Isringhausen, or may I suspect—you
enjoy setting terms.
Miss Isringhausen: Terms, Ma’am?
Alma: Playing arbiter of the when and why of things.
Miss Isringhausen: Pursuing the second subject Mr. Bullock raised, Mrs. Garret, might
upset a person now present, junior to you and me.

(Alma looks at Sophia, who snaps open Alma’s red feather fan – looking at them
sidelong.)

Alma: I cannot imagine how such a pursuit could be any more upsetting than the
atmosphere of relentless disapproval that you so consistently generate. (Miss
Isringhausen looks at her, mouth agape) I’ve no further need of your services,
Miss Isringhausen. (Alma stands up and goes over to Sophia.)
Miss Isringhausen: I’ll say goodnight then to you and Sophia.
Alma: My preference is your saying goodbye.

(Miss Isringhausen pauses, seemingly stunned. Sophia looks at her…)

Miss Isringhausen: I wonder, Ma’am…if having made so many decisions so quickly,


your patience may be short just now. And I’d appeal you to reconsider your
preferences in the morning.
Alma: In any case, you’ll want to retire to your room.
Miss Isringhausen: I hope you’ll recall that I’ve traveled from Chicago to enter your
employ and have no emergent prospects.
Alma: We’ll come to some arrangement.
Miss Isringhausen: All right. (nods in resignation) I’ll say goodnight then. (She turns
to leave.)
Alma: As is your custom –(Miss Isringhausen turns back) without having spared one
affectionate look for my child.
Miss Isringhausen: My training, Ma’am, is that being engaged to see to the child’s
education, my soliciting her affections would intrude on the mother’s province.
Alma: (Alma pauses and steps closer) And I would call that a logical distinction, Miss
Isringhausen, having nothing to do with the way people live.

(Miss Isringhausen blinks, stonefaced, she turns on her heel and leaves. Alma stares at
her as she leaves. Miss Isringhausen shuts the door – loudly – Alma looks shocked, but
whether it’s at the slamming of the door or the fact that she just fired her tutor like
that…who knows?)
---
(Cy and Lila are in bed, looking as if they just finished having sex. They are laying side-
by-side, Cy, with his hands behind his head, Lila, with her hands over her pelvis.)

Lila: The people downstairs are scared.


Cy: Are they?
Lila: Off your talk. They think you believe the camp’s in jeopardy.
Cy: I ain’t answerable for misinterpretations. The truth is, Lila, the weather’s gettin’
better, and it looks to stay mild a spell. (laughing) Old Cy has outlasted the
cocksuckers one more time. If it was in me to kid myself, I’d take this for
proving God loves me.(laughs)
Lila: I believe he loves us.
Cy: Do you, sweetheart? Did his hand lead me buyin’ and turnin’ you out? That’s a
lovely thought. Next you’re in touch, would you put the good word in?
Lila: I do. I pray for you every night.
Cy: (pauses) All right, stupid, time to shut your fuckin’ mouth. Shut your fuckin’
mouth now and turn over and close your eyes.

(Lila obediently does as told. Nearly spilling out of her corset in the process. Careful,
Honey, Daddy is holding the camera, he doesn’t want to have to edit that.)
---
(Chez Amie, the girls are dressed and posing at various places around the room. Maddie
is evaluating them.)

Maddie: Lift your leg. (The whore in the red dress does so, Maddie steps over to
her and strokes her leg) Languid and open for adventure. (She turns, looks at the
whore in the corner – Doris? – moves on to the whore in the chair) In your case,
Atlantis, present the tits a little more. (She pushes against Atlantis’ back, making
her sit up more.) Can you hold that for half an hour?
Atlantis: I’ve been holding this my whole fuckin’ life.

(Wolcott enters)

Maddie: Mr. W.
Wolcott: Hello.
Maddie: You jumped the gun on our opening by half an hour, but I believe we can
make an exception. (Joanie enters) My partner, Joanie.
Joanie: How do you do?
Wolcott: How do you do? (He paces, looking around)
Maddie: Our caller fancies Basil’s Bourbon, Joanie, which is hid beneath the
floorboard at the bar.
Joanie: All right.
Maddie: Won’t you sit?
Wolcott: I don’t know that I will. Where is she?
Maddie: Carrie’s been detained.
Wolcott: Detained?
Maddie: You don’t need me telling you Carrie’s mind’s her own. We hit Cheyenne
and she stopped to see a relative. (Wolcott nods)
Joanie: Basil Hayden hid beneath the floorboards as advertised. (She hands him
the bourbon, he sniffs it, points to the whore in front of the bar…)
Wolcott: Would you get out of my sight, please? (The whore moves) How close a
relative is she fucking in Cheyenne?
Maddie: She’s coming soon, Mr. W.
Wolcott: Is her arrival imminent?
Maddie: A matter of days.
Wolcott: How many days are in a matter?
Joanie: Would fucking something else fill the time?
Wolcott: Yeah, how much you cost?
Joanie: I ain’t for sale, sir. But I would fuck you for free.
Wolcott: I have to say you ain’t my type.
Joanie: Do you stand there, Mr. W., saying you’re dead solid sure you’ll not ever
again be surprised till you’ve completed your earthly course? Ain’t that
presumptuous, Sir? And ain’t our quoted fee, to surprise you, fair and just?
Wolcott: I always pay for pussy.
Joanie: Well, I may let you then, if you go ahead and twist my arm. (She holds her
arm out for him.) You pay extra for that? (Takes him by the arm and leads him to
a back room.)
Wolcott: Do unhand me.
Joanie: I, Mr. W—who I just unhanded—and Mr. Basil Hayden (Holds up the
bottle of bourbon) do no wish to be disturbed. (She lifts the flap of her corset to
reveal a small gun to the others, turns & shuts the door).
Whore: You want me back where I was?
Maddie: She kills that fucking cocksucker, I’m gonna be working for the rest of my
life. (Maddie is seething)
---
(Richardson is wiping down a table in the absurd restaurant…)

EB: Richardson, Richardson, Richardson. When will come the quiet hours of our
declining years? (Richardson continues cleaning without looking up) I’m talking
to you, dimwit.
Richardson: I wasn’t lis’nin’.
EB: Richardson, won’t you sit yourself? Allow me to take up your labors,
(Richardson sits and looks up at E.B. through Droopy Dog eyes) I am confiding
that turbulence, (shifts the bucket on the table) upheaval of the most violent sort,
(lifts the bucket and swirls it) churning seas, waves of a scale and force to make
the most seasoned seafarer vomit—bleah (fakes vomiting into the bucket, sets the
bucket down – speaks calmer, ) Are in prospect for this camp. And, We,
Richardson, you, I, and tragically others—(picks up the scrub brush inside the
bucket and starts to scrub the table) so very many others who journeyed to the
hills to stake their claims, and with those claims their hopes for the future—are
but pawns of the savage sea (throws the brush in the bucket, picks up the bucket)
and playthings of the fucking deep. (He sets the bucket down, sits on the table)
Not for us, apparently, the placid harbor, on which voyages, near complete to bob
and rot, bob and rot, (he rocks back and forth, whispering that) be calmed. For us,
to the very end, (yelling, stands up-grabs the bucket and sloshes it back and forth)
the dizzying surges of the storm and it’s crashing descents! (He slams the bucket
on the table) Do you understand me, you repulsive lout?
Richardson: No.
EB: (Grabs Richardson’s shoulders) The claims, Richardson. They’re being
overturned. (He starts scrubbing again) Save those few who dispose of their
holdings before word circulates. Destitution looms! (Throws his arms out wide,
looming over Richardson)
Richardson: Oh dear.
EB: Yes, yes. Even you now recognize the situation. Ah well. Take the rest of the
night off, Richardson.
Richardson: (stands up) Thank you, Sir. (He goes to leave as quick as he can)
EB: But confide in no one! (Richardson pauses, then continues scurrying to the door)
About the claims!
---
(Back at Chez Amie, Wolcott is seated in a chair looking at Joanie, who is laying on her
stomach on the bed, propped up by her elbows, head in hands…)

Joanie: Would we have even more fun naked? Or I could, and you could stay
dressed. Or the opposite.
Wolcott: Who am I?
Joanie: You’re Mr. W. Your boss struck bigger than anyone in the Comstock and
Mexico. So you bein’ here puts a shine to this camp’s prospects.
Wolcott: (He pauses, pulls at his cravat) Unbutton my shirt.
Joanie: Yes, sir. (She gets up, kneels in front of Wolcott…)
Wolcott: Do not look at my face.
Joanie: No, sirree. (Begins unbuttoning his shirt)
Wolcott: Shall I tell you who I work for?
Joanie: As you wish. If you do, how shall I occupy myself while you’re doing it?
Wolcott: The same as if I don’t.
Joanie: (She looks up at him) For me to judge?
Wolcott: As you wish.
Joanie: Your shirt buttons are your big interest? Or shall we advance to these
buttons here? (She begins to unbutton his pants – ooh! Buttonfly!) And shall I
hazard an approach I rarely find ill-received?
Wolcott: (pauses) No.
Joanie: (takes her hands away from him) Shall I hazard an approach I myself, I
never remember refusing? And will you supervise closely? (He breathes heavily,
almost a sigh of resignation) Mr. W., I am gonna take that as a yes.

(She stands up, goes over to the bed, sits, throws her skirts to the side, lays back and
starts pleasuring herself. Wolcott sits back, looks down and starts rebuttoning.)

Wolcott: No. Take it as a no.


Joanie: (sighs – throws her skirts over her legs) Nuts!
Wolcott: (laughs) What a tiny corner of operation for such an amusing mind.
(stands) I’ll promise as I sojourn here to bring you stories of the world of men.
Joanie: I’ll just be here in my girl’s world diddling myself.
Wolcott: (still buttoning) I admire you coming armed.
---
(Al is laying in bed, he looks like shit. He raises his eyebrows at Doc, holding the probe.)

Doc: Hmm. (Nods to Dan, Al is panting, Dan throws his hat to the side, approaches the
bed.) I’m ‘onna pass this through your penis up into your bladder, Al, and I’m
‘onna say this to you once—I’m sorry for how it hurts. (Dan kneels on the bed
next to Al and holds him still, Al is wheezing, Johnny looks on, Doc inserts the
probe, Al bucks) Goddamnit, hold him still!
Al: (screaming) Mother of God! (Trixie looks up from the thoroughfare, Johnny
winces…walks out to the balcony) Help me! Mother of God!
Trixie:(yelling up to Johnny) Fuck you, Johnny! Get in there and fucking help him!
Johnny: What am I supposed to do? (E.B. steps outside and dumps his bucket)
Trixie:Put your hand in his mouth! Let him bite your fucking hand! (Johnny, pained
with grief, goes back inside.)
Doc: Alright, Al. I’m in your bladder. I can hear the fucking stone. I’m gonna try now
to move the stone to release your water, so you push now if you can, son.
Al: (gags, straining…yelling) Oh God! Mother, take me!
Doc: Push now if you can. Get your water flowing.
Al: I’m trying! Help me. Christ! (Al screams, the whole camp seeming to hear)
Dan: I’ll fucking kill you, Doc! You take it out of him!
Doc: Shut up!

(Al screams like Wesley does in “The Princess Bride” when Prince Humperdink pushes
the torture machine up to 50. “Not to 50!” Seth, Martha & William enjoy a quiet meal,
you can barely hear the scream in the background. We see Doc manipulate the probe,
blood dripping from it.)

Doc: All right. I can see some fucking urine with the blood. Good for you.
Johnny: (near tears) Is he all right now? Is he cured now?
Doc: It’s fucking something, anyway.
Dan: Is that something anyway, Doc? (motioning with his head to Al, Al’s face seems to
relax a bit.)
Doc: All right, Al, I’m ‘onna take it out of you. You hold on and it won’t hurt so bad.

(Doc slides it out. We hear another blood curdling scream. Johnny steps outside.)

Johnny: (to Trixie) He put something out of himself, Trixie. Now, that’s
something anyway.
Trixie:Is it out of him?
Johnny: Well, that instrument’s out of him.
Trixie:And what of the fucking stone?
Johnny: I didn’t see no fucking stone come out.

(Trixie throws her cigarette in the muck, turns, sighs – pushing her hair back- she walks
away. Johnny is still on the balcony, distressed.)
Cast (in credits order)
Timothy Olyphant .... Seth Bullock
Ian McShane .... Al Swearengen
Molly Parker .... Alma Garret
Jim Beaver .... Ellsworth
Brad Dourif .... Doc Cochran
John Hawkes .... Sol Star
Paula Malcomson .... Trixie
Leon Rippy .... Tom Nuttall
William Sanderson .... Eustis Baily (E.B.) Farnum
Robin Weigert .... Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown .... Dan Dority
Dayton Callie .... Charlie Utter
Anna Gunn .... Martha Bullock
Powers Boothe .... Cy Tolliver / Tolliver
Sean Bridgers .... Johnny Burns
Jeffrey Jones .... A.W. Merrick
Geri Jewell .... Jewel
Bree Seanna Wall .... Sophia
Gill Gayle .... Huckster
Titus Welliver .... Silas Adams
Meghan Glennon .... Lila
Kim Dickens .... Joanie Stubbs
Maddie Alice Krige
Miss Isringhausen Sarah Paulson
William Bullock Josh Eriksson
Peter Jason
Nick Amandos
Fiona Dourif
Lila Meghan Glennon
Gary Leffew
Chandler Richards
Pete Richardson Ralf Richeson
Damon Damon Weber

Publicity images & episode content © 2005 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved.
HBO and Deadwood are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2005
Cristi H. Brockway. The copyright claimed by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her
personal contribution of material not contained in the episode from which this transcript
was compiled. Any commercial use of this transcript is expressly prohibited.
Episode 16
“Requiem for a Gleet”

Directed by: Alan Taylor


Written by: Ted Mann
Episode 16: “Requiem for a Gleet”
(Seth is in bed with Martha, he slowly stirs from sleep, realizes where he is and sits
up…Martha wakes as well…)

Martha: Let me light the lamp.


Seth: I’ve misplaced my boots.
Martha: I put them downstairs by the kitchen door.
Seth: (sighing, he holds the bridge of his nose, Martha lights the lamp) I was
asleep…when you took ‘em and did that.
Martha: Yes. Would you rather I not?
Seth: (shakes his head) No. (Strokes his hair back with both hands) No. Only I had
intended to be awake last night so we could talk, which, what with how it’s been,
we have not done in the peace of the evening as I would like, since your arrival.
Martha: I would enjoy to converse in the stillness, after the day, like that.
Seth: Tonight, I will have two cups of coffee, and I will not fall asleep.
Martha: In the morning…(reaches her hand behind her, rests it on the center of the
bed between them, their backs still facing each other) in the quiet before we each
take up our work, is also a pleasant occasion for such intercourse. (Seth slowly
starts to turn his head around to look at Martha.)
Seth: Yes.
Martha: Would you like to start a discussion this morning?
Seth: (pauses) I wouldn’t…want to – disturb the boy.
Martha: William sleeps soundly. (Seth contemplates) If you will see to the
bedroom door…Mr. Bullock?

(Seth slowly stands, we see him walk to the door, Martha still seated on the bed in the
background. The door shuts.)
---
(Trixie and Dolly are sponge bathing a shivering Al…)

Dolly: Have I killed ‘im?


Trixie:First, the dead don’t shiver. And next, you just done what he asked. (Al shivers
and shakes, delirious) Ain’t it more likely what turned him worse is underlyin’
woe than a thumb up his ass attemptin’ his fucking relief? Go on, get the fuck out
of here. (A sullen Dolly gets up from the bed and leaves. Trixie clutches Al’s
hand, sponging his shoulder) It’s alright, Honey.

---
(At Alma’s claim, the rig is pounding, laborers are shouting. We see Francis Wolcott
standing stock still in the center of it all. Surveying his surroundings. Ellsworth sees
Wolcott from above, as he begins approaching Wolcott, we see his right hand rest on his
gun, at the ready. Wolcott is turning slowly, he spots Ellsworth, gun at the ready,
heading his way…)
Wolcott: Hello.
Ellsworth: What’s your business?
Wolcott: I’m Francis Wolcott.
Ellsworth: (approaches closer) My name’s Ellsworth, Mr. Francis Wolcott. Can you
hear me?
Wolcott: Yes, sir. How do you do?
Ellsworth: I’m well. Glad you make me out.
Wolcott: Yes, sir.
Ellsworth: Because them as poke around Miz Garret’s workings without a by-your-
leave ain’t welcome, Mr. Wolcott, and you ought not to repeat your fuckin’
mistake.
Wolcott: Well, that’s an uncivil response to an innocent error.
Ellsworth: Did you work in the Comstock when you was beardless?
Wolcott: I did.
Ellsworth: For Mr. George Hearst, as a keen eye for the color?
Wolcott: As a geologist for Mr. Hearst. Well, you have the advantage of me, Mr.
Ellsworth.
Ellsworth: That ain’t a possibility, Wolcott. No more than an error of yours would be
innocent.
Wolcott: I do dimly recall an Ellsworth—superintended the consolidated Virginia
operations.
Ellsworth: I don’t give a fuck what you recall.
Wolcott: A hero. Dug a week without respite to save three poor souls from a cave-
in.
Ellsworth: And 46 corpses in a fucking hole that ought never to have been dug.
Wolcott: Always a choice…to count the saved or the lost.
Ellsworth: Get off this property.
Wolcott: Just as a man opposed to inevitable change needn’t invariably be called a
luddite, another choice might be simply to describe him as slow in his processes.
Ellsworth: You tell that cocksucker you work for the next surrogate he sends oughtn’t
to be bloodied from the Comstock.
Wolcott: (Looks up at the stamp, turns to leave, turns back to Ellsworth…) The
noise is terrible, isn’t it, Mr. Ellsworth? Like fate.

(Ellsworth eyes Wolcott as he leaves the claim, heaving with rage at the retreating
figure…)
---
(Sophia is seated on the bed, playing teacher to her dolls, reading from her book. Alma
sits next to the bed in a chair, reading her own book…)

Sophia: “Ox, Box, Fox.”

(There is a knock at the door. Alma looks up from her book, points to one of the dolls…)

Alma: Nora’s attentions are wandering. If I were you, (pulls out a stick of green rock
candy) I’d bribe her with candy.
(Sophia takes the candy with a smile. Alma stands and walks to the door, putting her
book down on the desk along the way. She opens the door to Miss Isringhausen.)

Miss Isringhausen: Good Morning.


Alma: Please come in, Miss Isringhausen. (Miss Isringhausen enters) Will you have a
seat? (They sit, Alma at the desk and Miss Isringhausen in a chair across from
her.)
Miss Isringhausen: Do you remain of a mind, Ma’am, to dispense with my services?
Alma: (Sophia watches from the bed) I have immense respect for your training and
intelligence, Miss Isringhausen, and gratitude for your efforts toward Sophia’s
education. I am ill suited temperamentally to collaborate with you as women in
our positions must do.
Miss Isringhausen: I see.
Alma: I propose to pay you six months’ wages severance and an additional $200 against
the expense for your journey here and return to Chicago. While you’re making
your arrangements, I will also continue to pay for your room here at the hotel.
Miss Isringhausen: As to those terms, Mrs. Garret, your behavior is very fair.
Alma: Miss Isringhausen, Cotton Mather would have found hard and joyless the
standards you so resolutely apply to me and Sophia, and of course to yourself.
(They stand, Alma turns to the desk and retrieves the ‘severance’ package…) I
wish you very well. (Hands over the cash.)
Miss Isringhausen: Thank you, Madam.
Alma: Would you—(Turns head to the bedroom where Sophia is)
Miss Isringhausen: I will not say goodbye to Sophia, to spare her upset. (She promptly
leaves.)
---
(At the Gem, Dan stands behind the bar, he looks nervous as he stares up at Al’s door.
E.B. approaches the bar…)

EB: Dan.
Dan: E.B. Coffee?
EB: Please. (Dan reaches behind the bar and pulls out a cup. He shakily pours E.B.
some coffee. E.B. looks up towards Al’s door and back to Dan.) I’ll be candid,
Dan. I did not sleep well last night. I heard screaming from Al’s room.
Dan: Happens up ‘ere many a fuckin’ evenin’.
EB: Well, Al was fuckin’ screamin’, Dan. And I’m wondering how he’s feeling this
morning. And you dancin’ around the pole ain’t allayin’ my fucking anxieties.
Dan: Well, do you hear any screams from him now?
EB: Silence ain’t proof either way.
Dan: Take no tongue with me, E.B., (Louder – pointing) or I’ll slap you fuckin’ silly!
(They pause) He’s on the mend, and he ain’t fuckin’ receiving.
EB: Well, that’s all I was fuckin’ askin’.
Dan: Then that’s your fuckin’ answer.
EB: Convey my joy. (They drink their coffee) And tell him numerous scores await.
(Dan does the “bowing without actually bowing” hand gesture, E.B. mockingly returns
the gesture but it looks more like a “forget you I’m swimming sideways now” gesture.
And ugly, dirty guy enters the Gem and approaches Dan. He looks like the uglier,
shorter, dirtier little brother of Billy Crudup. Johnny leaves Al’s room, he & Dan’s eyes
meet, The ugly-dirty-guy follows Dan’s site-line up to the balcony and turns back to
Dan…)

Eamon: Soft-fuckin’ day, Dan.


Dan: Morning, Crop Ear. Oh—sorry—Eamon.
Eamon: (Strokes his ear hole) Take a good look. Ain’t growin’ back. (loudly) Is
he about?
Johnny: (Coming downstairs) Uh…Al’s out early. Look at a place in Gayville.
Eamon: Oh, yeah? (waves his fist a la “jerking off” miming. He huffs) You must
seize fortune by the forelock, Dan. That’s why I’m here, to put a matter before
him. You know I’ll not waste the man’s time.
Dan: No, you won’t.
Eamon: That’s some fuckin’ way you have about you, Dan.
Dan: Now, you could either say your piece to me and Johnny, or you can-get-the-fuck-
outta here.
Eamon: I’ll say it gladly, and hope you’ll commend my words to him (nods his
head towards Al’s office) who’s in Gayville at the earliest opportunity. I
contemplate a piece of activity. I need to organize some reliable fellows, locate a
right place to waylay that metal.
Dan: (nodding) Well, I’ll let him know. (nods)
Eamon: 25%. One full quarter of the proceeds in total go to (raises his arms and
looks to the heavens) Al Swearengen, (looks at Dan) the Gem Saloon, (pointing)
or you and Johnny as the fucking case may be.
Dan: You may need to clean the wax out of your holes, because I said I will let him
know.
Eamon: When do you suppose I could expect a favor of a response?
Dan: Tomorrow afternoon.
Eamon: He’s overnight in Gayville then? (Dan nods) Then tomorrow afternoon it
is. (knocks on the bar, turns and leaves.)
Johnny: Gettin’ particular of where he was gone, I realize now, it was a fuckin’
mistake, which happened because I’m so fuckin’ upset.
Dan: From this point forward, I’ll handle that earless cunt.
---
(In the thoroughfare, a stagecoach has arrived, a geeky looking man gets out…)

Driver: Top two bags. (He taps a suitcase, another man climbs up to retrieve the
luggage. We see another man help a pretty blonde out of the coach, we know her
to be ‘Carrie’ the whore on ice. E.B. steps out onto the porch. Carrie looks
around, Wolcott approaches her…)
Wolcott: May I help you with your bags, Miss?
Carrie: No, you can’t. Or look at me or talk to me until I’ve took a bath.
Wolcott: (Swings an arm to indicate up the thoroughfare) Well, follow the
quagmire then, Ma’am. The establishment you want is the last on the right. (To a
man unloading the coach, holding out a tip) Take this lady’s luggage to the Chez
Amie.
Man: Yes, sir.
Wolcott: Do not look at her or talk to her until she’s bathed. (Carrie smiles smugly
and follows the man up the thoroughfare. Wolcott heads up to the hotel…)
EB: Mr. Wolcott. (Wolcott stops and looks out on the town next to E.B. – speaking
loudly) Deceptively fair weather given the devastating rumors.
Wolcott: Less volume, Mr. Farnum. More conviction.
EB: Yes.

(Wolcott steps away. The nerdy man, whom we know later is Hugo Jarry, dressed in a
clean grey suit, addresses E.B from just beyond the porch.)

Hugo: Your hotel?


EB: Yes, it is, sir. (Hugo steps up to the porch) Your luggage?
Hugo: Yes.
EB: May I install it in one of our better rooms?
Hugo: Please. Uh, direct me to the Bella Union.
EB: Not 50 yards as the bird flies, or a man is lead on by his prick, or needing to test
his luck. To whom shall I assign the room?
Hugo: Hugo Jarry.
EB: E.B Farnum, owner-proprietor. Also mayor, though that position is largely
ceremonial.
Hugo: Lawrence County Commissioner. The position is real.

(He nods and turns away from E.B, heading to the Bella Union. Silas is waiting at the
end of the porch for him, casually leaning up against a column)

Silas: Hello, Jarry. Commissioner Jarry. (They walk)


Hugo: Commissioner Jarry now, yes, as of the last five days. Delighted to find you here,
Adams.
Silas: You could have known my next whereabouts if you had talked to me in Yankton,
where I sat outside your office for half a fuckin’ day.
Hugo: It seemed (they stop) to many of us in Yankton that in the aftermath of Magistrate
Clagett’s disappearances, you chose different companions. (He tries to proceed,
Silas blocks him)
Silas: Last I saw Clagett, he rode in here with General Crook. I figured he left with him,
too.
Hugo: And perhaps was plucked up subsequently from amidst the troops by savages?
Yes, such moonlight treachery being their stealthy hallmark.
Silas: Maybe he took a bribe from someone, didn’t hold up his end, got his just desserts.
Hugo: (Looking into the distance) That’s of no personal interest to me (We see Wolcott
talking to Mr. Lee.) or anyone in Yankton, any more than your choice of
companions.
Silas: If you’re trying to freeze out Swearengen before the Governor makes his play,
(we see Mr. Wu, glaring at Mr. Lee) You are bettin’ the wrong way.
Hugo: (eyeing Mr. Wu) Someone certainly is.
Silas: Anyways, I’ll tell him I saw you.
Hugo: I have a close schedule, otherwise, I’d pay the respects myself. (Eyes Silas) I
wonder if you will let me pass. (Silas steps out of the way. Hugo continues
looking in Mr. Wu’s direction.)
----
(At the Bella Union, Con is counting out gold coins, Cy is seated at a table…)

Cy: I only hope, Marvin, you ain’t privy to information that I ain’t.
Marvin: $600 U.S. Dollars, Mr. Tolliver. Claim 16 above Discovery.
Cy: That ain’t responsive to my previous fuckin’ statement, young man.
Marvin: I tell you what, sir. It’s the fuckin’ altitude that’s got to me.
Cy: I see.
Marvin: Nosebleeds and every fucking thing else.
Cy: Well, your health’s got to come first. Leon! (Leon picks up a piece of paper, pen
and ink) Light as my kit’s got, we can go ahead and say done. (He and Marvin
spit in their hands and shake as Leon sets down the paper, pen and ink.)
Cy: $600, Con.
Con: Right here, sir. (Cy wipes his hands with a handkerchief…Hugo Jarry enters and
eyes Cy…Con sets down to stack of coins in front of Cy)
Cy: Jesus Christ, don’t pay it to me, Marvin here will shoot us both!
Con: (nods, grabs the coins and sets them in front of Marvin) Here you go, Marvin.
Cy: You lettered, Marvin?
Marvin: I’m up to making my “X”, Sir.
Cy: Con you sign as witness. (Stands)
Con: Will do, Sir. (Hovers over Marvin’s shoulder)
Marvin: Don’t be lookin’ over my shoulder when I’m signin’ my fuckin’ X!

---
(Maddie is seated at a desk in the front room of the Chez Amie, doing accounts by the
looks of it. She looks pissed. Or happy. Or sad. I mean, she’s Maddie. She looks like –
Maddie.)

Maddie: Don’t ever say that to me again. You surprised yourself.

(Joanie is seated at a desk in the middle of the room, her back to Maddie, looks like she’s
also doing accounts. Cool! Instead of banjos it ledgers and quills!)

Joanie: It’s what happened.


Maddie: I don’t want to hear it spoken of, because it darkens my thoughts.
Joanie: (looks up, turns her head back to Maddie) About who you’re partnered
with?
Maddie: Exactly. (Doris & a dark-haired whore look at their bosses from their
place at the bar) They get led by their dicks. Our cunts lead us, we lose our only
edge. (A pretty-curly-haired whore and an ugly-profiled blond whore step into the
doorway, watching)
Joanie: That wasn’t what was going on.
Maddie: Was it worse? Were you angry at him, Joanie? (Doris watches) Was that
what surprised you, (Doris exits the bar – the other whores leave as well) How
angry you were that George Hearst’s second was a cruel and evil man? (Stands up
& approaches Joanie) Did you think maybe you’d shoot him to get us little
people even? (Joanie looks back up from her books)
Joanie: I took that gun into the room with me to protect myself.
Maddie: (loudly) Who fuckin’ asked you to go into the room with him? Nobody
gets even. We get dead. And before I go, I intend a long and comfortable
retirement, and that cocksucker’s gonna pay the freight.
Joanie: Something terrible is going to happen here.
Maddie: (Turns away) You don’t even know the girl—he wants to harm. (Turns
back to Joanie) You stay the fuck out of it. (The door opens)
Carrie: He tipped you! (She huffs inside) This whole place smells like shit.
(Throws her bags down.)
---
(Richardson is cutting up vegetables and stuff, throwing them into a pot. E.B is pacing
behind him…)

EB: It is no disloyalty to be a realist, Richardson, we are mortal. One hopes for the
best. One perseveres. One reevaluates constantly. One is an asshole if one
doesn’t. (rubs his neck, still pacing) Loyalty expanded is not loyalty betrayed.
(Richardson sniffs some questionable – meat? – and throws it in the pot) I
contemplate no disloyalty to Al Swearengen. (bites his hand, sits) I feel exposed.
I don’t like being weak, and I know that I am. I yearn to rely on a stronger will. I
fear what I’m capable of in it’s absence. (E.B. rubs his face, pausing, Richardson
is snapping carrots and tossing them into the pot. E.B. looks on, sadly.) Whereas
you, Richardson, (stands up, angry) know nothing of yourself. (Richardson looks
back at E.B.) Are you shitting or going blind? Or on foot or horseback? You vile
(grabs a frying pan and makes to whack Richardson) fucking lump! (Richardson
sorta flinches, goes back to what he was doing…E.B. grabs a pan of “offal” and
sets it in front of Richardson.) Bury that offal in the Shepherd’s Pie.
---
(Dan is leaning on the bar – yawning – Silas enters.)

Dan: (Sees Silas – mutters) Oh, God damn it. (Pounds the bar lightly, stands up and
faces Silas – sighs)
Silas: May I go up today?
Dan: Unh-uh.
Silas: How long is my fuckin’ sentence?
Dan: Any messages?
Silas: Is there any fuckin’ chance you and me don’t end up in blood?
Dan: Any of you realizin’ that the sun don’t rise and set on me and you?
Silas: What the fuck does that fuckin’ mean?
Dan: Means there may be other fuckin’ factors factored into my decision-making.
Besides the fact that I find you to be a pain in the balls, personally.
Silas: Please report – Commissioner Jarry from Yankton has arrived to the camp and
intends to fuck Al up the ass.
Dan: Said he to you while doin’ the same?
Silas: (Calmly, measuring his words) It is important that he hear that. You do him
disservice not to tell.
Dan: (Relents, calmly – softly…) Listen, Adams. Al is fucked up bad. May be dyin’.
Silas: Jesus.
Dan: Goddamn right, Jesus. Them stones have done plumb blocked off his piss
passage.
Silas: Fuck. Okay, Alright.
Dan: It’s all backed up in him. Hey, shit, he’s got piss in his lungs.
Silas: Can he talk?
Dan: Fuck no, he can’t talk. He just lays there and shivers and stares at nothin’. Uh, he
screams when Doc abuses him with them fuckin’ prick poles of his.
Silas: Sorry I broke your balls.
Dan: Well, I’ll see to it he gets your news if he gets to a point I think he can understand
my meanin’. (Silas starts to leave) Listen, how uh – how’s your little buddy, the
one I put the beatin’ on. (He’s got another buddy we don’t know about? Way to
rub it in, Dan. Dan smiles.)
Silas: Hawkeye.
Dan: Yeah, Hawkeye.
Silas: He’ll live.

(Dan smiles as Silas leaves, he looks over and sees Johnny snoozing at the other end of
the bar. He throws a wet rag at Johnny’s head, hitting him in the face. Johnny wakes
with a start…muttering.)

Johnny: It’s something anyway. (He looks up at Dan, confused)


---
(Alma sits on a bench by the stairs in the hotel, Ellsworth enters and approaches her. He
takes off his hat…)

Ellsworth: Mornin’, Ma’am.


Alma: Good morning, Mr. Ellsworth.
Ellsworth: I’m sorry I’m late. I hope you spent a restful night.
Alma: I did. And you’re forgiven. But this morning, I note an amount of
confusion…and anxiety abound, and words of panic about Yankton’s disposition
of the claims.
Ellsworth: Panic’s easier on the back than the short-handled shovel.
Alma: I see.
Ellsworth: (kneels down next to Alma) The creator, in his infinite wisdom, Miz
Garret, salted his works so that where gold was, there also you’d find rumor.
Though, he decreed just as firm that the opposite wouldn’t always hold.
Alma: You understand I needn’t be comforted at the expense of the truth.
Ellsworth: I’m late, Ma’am, over shooin’ a man away from your diggin’s named
Frances Wolcott, that scouts for George Hearst, (Alma cocks her head in interest)
who wouldn’t spare attention for a camp or the sun itself if he didn’t think it likely
to fill his coffers. Nor the sort’d shrink from a lie, or more than one, to advance
his purpose, or be ignorant or of how to circulate his falsehoods without anyone
knowin’ their source. (Alma smiles tentatively) And now I come to camp to hear
the waters called muddy and the current quickened, though I see no change in the
creek. And the “Hooples,” certain sure that flood crest fast approaches, have
begun to think keenly, “I’ll get ahead of the event. Maybe I’ll sell my claim at
discount.” Anything to unharness so they can head for the higher ground. Myself,
Ma’am, I’d be bettin’ that the levy’ll hold. (Alma smiles with satisfaction.)
---
(Martha, in the kitchen of the house that Bullock built, spoons out some oatmeal onto a
plate. William is seated at the table.)

William: Did you speak of it to Mr. Bullock, Mama?


Martha: Not yet, William.
William: Will you speak of it today? (footsteps approaching) Good morning, Mr.
Bullock.
Seth: Good morning.
Martha: Oatmeal…Seth?
Seth: Please…Martha.
William: Mr. Bullock, mother was wantin’ a kitchen garden, (Martha looks away,
back to the stove, a bit uncomfortable, hmm?) which I would have care of.
Seth: (sitting) Have you chosen a spot yet?
William: I paced one out in the back of the house, sir. Yesterday, I would have
broken the ground, but from wantin’ the tools.
Seth: (looking at Martha, back to William) Would you like to go now and tell Mr. Star
you need shovel, hoe and a rake?
William: Yes, sir. (Jumps up to leave)
Seth: Do you recall your way to the hardware store? (Shit, Seth, it’s like – right next
door. Do YOU recall where you built your house?)
William: (Turning back to Seth) I do, sir. Is it okay if I go now, mama?

(She nods, William grabs a handful of food and runs off to the hardware store. Martha
rubs her forehead, turns back to the kettle, stirs and sniffs.)
---
(Alma, surveying the hotel lobby below, from the vantage of the upstairs balcony, thumps
her jeweled fingers on the banister like Cruella D’Ville eyeing a new batch of puppys to
kill. We hear men talking, see E.B. approach his ledger, she proceeds downstairs…)

EB: Mrs. Garret.


Alma: Mr. Farnum. (She eyes him smugly, turns and sits back down on the bench by the
stairs. E.B. scuttles along behind her…)
EB: Mrs. Garret? What male would not trade our small superiority of intellect to
possess that gift of intuition so bountifully bestowed on the lesser sex?
(Oooh…wrong choice of words, E.B.)
Alma: Mr. Farnum, your meaning is beyond me.
EB: I imagine you, Madam, awakening the other morning, suddenly and for no earthly
reason, convinced the camp was at peril. ”My gold should be spirited to Denver,”
I imagine you thinking, maybe as you brushed your hair, (Alma smirks as E.B.
makes a brushing motion against his greasy locks) and without worrying the
conviction or studying upon it, sending the gold away.
Alma: At peril? Mr. Farnum, the camp? Oh, your meaning is beyond me. (She turns to
face the wall, EB scuttles to a trunk facing her, sitting.)
EB: Ma’am, if a Nubian genie were at my disposal, I’d see his great nigger fingers
whisk up my hotel and deposit it in Denver, just as you did your gold.
Alma: (smiling) Because the camp’s at peril?
EB: Yes, Madam, yes. Peril. (He leans in…) And worse than peril.
Alma: (mouth in an ‘O’) Perhaps you should sell.
EB: Mrs Garret, had I your intuition, would I not have done.
Alma: I’ll buy it.
EB: (Flustered) Aren’t you wonderful and kind and intuitive and generous. No, I
couldn’t burden you (Alma leans back) nor impose upon your generosity,
tremendously wealthy as you are.
Alma: (Spits expertly in her palm, holding it out for a handshake) Name your price, Mr.
Farnum. We’ll close the transaction now.
EB: Madam, now you unsettle and trifle with me. (He stands, hitting his head on the
stairs) Ungh—and make me nervous and uncertain.
Alma: (Still holding out her hand) My intention is quite otherwise, and intuition.
EB: Oh, your intuition? (He sits)
Alma: Name your price. (He looks at her) How do you males put it…”Shit or get off the
chamber pot?”
EB: (flustered) Oh, Mrs. Garret—shit, indeed. Oh dear. (Stands, watching his head
this time)
Alma: Unless, Mr. Farnum…(taking out a handkerchief to wipe her hand)
EB: Unless, what, Madam? Do you reconsider?
Alma: No, no.
EB: I’d understand. It’s your sex’s prerogative (And Bobby Brown’s too).
Alma: Unless, I meant to say, you’re lying about the camp’s peril?
EB: Lying? I?
Alma: But why would you do that?
EB: Exactly.
Alma: (Standing) You will make a price for me then.
EB: Let me…consider, Mrs. Garret.
Alma: Don’t, Mr. Farnum. Trust your instincts. (She leans forward and picks up a
ruffle from his collar) I’ll have you in a dress in no time. (She walks back
upstairs, E.B. sits in her spot, muttering…)
EB: Miserable, haughty, cunt. Putting me beyond my depth.
---
(Doc is sitting next to Al, in bed, still shaking and delirious.)

Doc: We’ve come to a crisis, Al, and I have to say my piece. (Dan looks at Al, then to
Doc.) The stones can be excised surgically in one of two ways…(Dan looks to
Johnny – nervously) The so-called “High Method,” which cuts into the bladder
from above your penis, and the other which enters from below.
Johnny: Below what, Doc?
Doc: His balls.
Johnny: So the “low” entails cutting through his ‘tain’t.
Doc: Now, I have seen the high method performed. I assisted at a closing, afterwards
discussed it with the surgeon. Come to it, that is the one that I would prefer.
(Dan looks back and forth from Al to Doc.)
Dan: Al’s with you.
Doc: Well, how’d he indicate it?
Dan: A hard blink for the upper and a scowl for cutting through his ‘tain’t.
Doc: With a knife in expert hands, two men in 10 survive the procedure we
contemplate. But at what point, without intervention, will your condition so
worsen as to put you beyond recovery? I believe we have approached that point.
I am not an expert, but I will give it my best effort, and I ask you now for your
consent, should we need to proceed.
Dan: He’s with you , Doc. He wants the upper. Hey, that’s it. That’s the final call.
Right, Al? (Dan, shaking his head ‘yes’, with tears in his eyes, look at the Doc.)
The upper? He wants the upper. Well, I guess you better go make ready. (Dan
gets up)
Doc: All right. All right. (gets up) Come with me, Johnny. Help me with the stove.
Johnny: Sure. Sure, Doc.

(Johnny grabs Doc’s wooden case and runs after him. Dan goes out onto the balcony,
barely choking back tears. Al, inside, shivers in the bed.)
---
(At the Bella Union, Wolcott, Cy and Hugo Jarry are talking.)

Hugo: As to claims filed and worked prior to the new treaty—in essence from when the
hills still belonged to the Sioux—the presumption of legitimacy will apply,
subject to qualification, according to mitigating facts. In short, with no
controlling principle being invoked, title will be determined on a case-by-case
basis. When claims are overturned, new title will be awarded at said prices, via
lottery, to those submitting verified offers.
Cy: I only hope territorial officials will be excluded from eligibility.
Hugo: Yes.
Cy: Better tell your friends and relatives to pick their lucky suits out for that drawing.
Hugo: Only after Mr. Wolcott’s have picked out theirs. Of course, anticipation of the
forthcoming judicial holding may itself largely cleanse the market.
Wolcott: It’s always preferable to allow the market to operate unimpeded.
Hugo: Would that argue for allowing word of my presence to circulate a bit before
presenting myself officially?
Cy: Man might use that time to put some stink on his Johnson.

(Wolcott looks at Hugo who looks at Cy.)


---
(Trixie enters the hardware store…looking around.)

Trixie:Hello?
Sol: Down here. Behind the counter. (He slides out from his hiding place, holding a
book) Taking inventory. (He stands and approaches her, smiling.)
Trixie:(Distraught) I can’t do a lesson today.
Sol: All right.
Trixie:(Holding back tears) He’s too sick. Maybe he’ll fuckin’ die. But I can’t stay.
But it’d be smart to stay and learn to calculate fuckin’ interest on that
accommodation paper and those fucking discount notes and whatever the fuck—
Sol: Another time. (She starts to really sob, he hugs her) It’s fine, Trixie. (She clutches
his arm – stops, realizing what she’s doing, rubbing his arm…)
Trixie:Did I hurt your shoulder?
Sol: No. (They hug, Seth sees them from outside…Trixie sees him…)
Trixie:(softly) I gotta go. (She turns and runs out.)
Seth: (Enters the store) Want to go out for a bit?
Sol: She says Swearengen’s bad off. Last night I heard him screaming out again and
again. I guess he’s…worsened with the day. (Steps away, gazing out the
window)
Seth: Thanks for outfittin’ the boy with garden equipment.
Sol: Oh, he’s planning to take some prizes come harvest fair. He mentioned corn and
squash both. I had some news from Denver…concerning our proposal on the
bank. (Seth starts sweeping) We’d need to find 15% of our proposed
capitalization.
Seth: If we capitalize at the two million we figured on—
Sol: $300,000 separate from what Denver will underwrite. (pauses) Or they’d credit
Mrs. Garret’s accounts as collateral.
Seth: Not doing that.
Sol: I don’t advocate it. I’m informing you of a communication they volunteered.
Seth: (stops sweeping, looks at Sol) We’re not doing that.
Sol: Suppose I’ll have to dip into my own kit then. (Smiles as he throws down the
paperwork) Even so, it’s back to cutting my own hair.
Seth: I’ll take the idea around.
Sol: Swearengen’d put it up.
Seth: Fucking reputable people.
Sol: If money had to be clean before it was recirculated, we’d still be living in fucking
caves.
Seth: Your old man?
Sol: Me.
---
(Wolcott and Cy are seated in the Bella Union, Mr. Lee is standing next to Wolcott.)

Wolcott: Mr. Lee will provide opium to you exclusively for sale to whites in the
camp. You will receive 50% of the gaming proceeds from Celestial’s Alley.
Cy: (looks at Wolcott) My men will lamp the take. It will spare Mr. Lee here
explaining how slow business was ‘cause of Buddha’s wedding anniversary.
(chuckles)
Wolcott: Your men lamp the take—also on proceeds from Celestial prostitutes.
How many do you want?
Cy: How many can you bring? (Wolcott looks to Mr. Lee)
MrLee: How many?
Cy: That- that sounds like a man with an inexhaustible supply. How much English do
you have, my friend? (Mr. Lee just looks at Cy.) Maybe when we get to know
each other better. (pauses) I’ll take a dozen, and I don’t want ‘em fucked out. I
set the rates. The upkeep’s on him.
Wolcott: And my understanding is the upkeep is quite minimal.
Cy: Good! Gives him more to spend on Mah-Jongg. (chuckles) I won’t question the
apparent one-sidedness of our arrangement.
Wolcott: Uh, the arrangement is not yours and Mr. Lee’s alone.
Cy: Yes, and in ways that I don’t understand, it must benefit you and the man whose
name I must never say, to have Mr. Lee in camp…and perhaps Mr. Wu out of it,
maybe among the spirits of his ancestors. But what a blessing for me, finally to
reach a point in life where…I don’t feel I have to know. (He chuckles, puff on his
cigar.)
---
(Trixie is seated at a table in the Gem, smoking a cigarette, Dan is behind the bar,
puffing on a cigar…)

Dan: A creature walking ‘round on hind legs. Just like crop ear and them half-dozen
bushwhackers out in the forest, ones I’d fall in with or out—whatever suited my
daily purpose. (Trixie looks at Dan) That’s what I was till I crossed paths with
Al.
Trixie:Well, bang the drum and play the pipes and I’ll rend our fuckin’ garments.
Dan: I was just sayin’.
Trixie: I ain’t hearin’ confessions this afternoon. (pauses) Say you’ll burn it down with
me, Dan.
Dan: What?
Trixie:This fuckin’ place – before letting Tolliver take it over.
Dan: (choking back tears) Done.

(A door closes upstairs, we see Jewel come out of Al’s office. Trixie stands, looking up at
Jewel.)

Trixie:Well, open your mouth, Jewel, and say somethin’ we can’t fuckin’ understand!
Jewel: He’s asking for you.
Trixie:(Turning around, looking up behind her to Al’s door) Don’t die with your fucking
secret.
Dan: (To Jewel) Clean the number three. Dolly said she bled.
---
(Doc is shaking as he’s taking his hemostat out of the boiling water…)
Doc: God damn it.
Johnny: (looks at Doc, panting, trying to calm his own nerves) I may get me a
whiskey, Doc. You want a whiskey?
Doc: No, I do not want a fucking whiskey.
Jewel: Well, maybe as far as steadyin’ the hand.
Doc: (hands on hips) How dare you? You shut your fucking mouth!
Johnny: I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.
Doc: (picks up his hemostat) Whiskey does not steady the hand. It just dulls the worry
over the hand’s unsteadiness. (Shakes as he tries to remove his scalpel from the
boiling water to set it on the tray next to the pot, it drops to the floor.) Jesus
Christ! Jesus Christ, I do not need to kill another man! (Sniffling…Johnny
reaches down to pick up the scalpel and yelps in pain at the heat and sticks his
fingers in his mouth.) (calmly) Top left corner of my fucking bag.
Johnny: (mumbling) What?
Doc: Balm, you fucking idiot, against the burn you fucking just sustained.
Johnny: (Still sucking on his fingers) Thanks, Doc.
Doc: Alright. (Calmer, he takes the hemostat and picks up the scalpel, putting it back in
the boiling water.)
---
(Mr. Wu enters the Gem – through the back door – striding in, determined.)

MrWu: Dahn! (Pointing to Dan – FYI “Dahn” sounds like Dan, but it also
translates to ‘Egg’)
Dan: (turning) Go away, Wu.
MrWu: (pointing) Swedgin.
Dan: No.
MrWu: (slower, making a beard-stroking-karate-chop-motion) Swed-gin! (Points
to Al’s office.)
Dan: Well, it ain’t gonna happen.
MrWu: (yelling) Swedgin!
Dan: (loudly) No, Wu! He’s fucked up. Now, Al can’t talk to you right now, and I
can’t understand you, so you go the fuck back to chink alley!
MrWu: Diu na Ma ga hai! Nei go Bok Gwai Lo! (Loosely translated: Fuck your mother!
You white cocksucker!)
Dan: (angry) Do not start drawing air to talk gibberish to me!
MrWu: (angry, throws something to the ground. Takes a deep breath, puts his
hand up “wait”. He points to his face, drawing a half circle around it’s
circumference.) Cocksuckah.
Dan: Oh, fer Christ’s sake.
MrWu: Cocksuckah! (Puts hand up high – a tall cocksucker Dan!)
Dan: It’s wasted on me, Wu.
MrWu: (He pulls his braid) mmm—cocksuckah! (hands up high again)
Cocksuckah!
Dan: I—I—I don’t get it, Wu. I am not as smart as Al. And there’s too much on our
fuckin’ plate right now to deal with it.
MrWu: (points to himself) Cocksuckah! (Hands up high again) Cocksuckah! San
Francisco.
Dan: Jesus-fucking-Christ. All right, there’s a-there’s an invisible cocksucker next to
you, and he’s from San Francisco.
MrWu: (phonically) Hou! (points to himself) Cocksuckah! (Hands up high) San
Francisco cocksuckah!
Dan: I-I’m going with you—you want me to tall Al that there’s a cocksucker (pulls his
hair) – he looks like—(he sees Doc and Johnny come through and starts to head
upstairs with them) he looks like you, and he’s from San Francisco and he’s got
your dander up. I’m going up now. I’ll go tell him. (Hurries up the stairs, Mr.
Wu watches hi go upstairs.)
Johnny: Tell him what?
Dan: Oh, God only knows.
Johnny: (yelling) Why don’t you learn to talk American! Save us all a lot of
fucking trouble!
MrWu: (enraged) Wu no Englishee! Bok Gwai Lo! Swedgin!
---
(Silas is relaxing on his bed, there’s a knock at his door…he gets up to answer it. He
opens the door to find Miss Isringhausen there.)

Miss Isringhausen: Mr. Adams? Good day.


Silas: Good day, Miss Isringhausen. (Looks at his door number, it’s #5 if you care.)
Miss Isringhausen: I can’t imagine what you must be thinking at the moment.
Silas: (steps aside) Please, come in.

(He steps back into the room, pulls out a chair for her and pats the seat, indicating for
her to have a seat. She shakes her head ‘no’ – standing by the door with her hand to her
mouth, about ready to burst into tears.)

Silas: I can offer you a whiskey or – water that I just washed my face in.
Miss Isringhausen: I will have whiskey, Sir.
Silas: Sure. (pulls out a bottle and a glass)
Miss Isringhausen: I’ve just been discharged. Sacked.
Silas: By Mrs. Garret? (pulls the stopper off the bottle and pours the whiskey)
Miss Isringhausen: As tutor for her ward. (He steps forward, offers her the glass, she
steps back, unsure, clutching her brooch.)
Silas: Well, I hope you punched her in the nose. (She takes the glass, walks over to the
chair.)
Miss Isringhausen: This is a day of firsts. Dismissal from employment, unchaperoned
presence in a man’s room. (Lifts the glass up as if it’s an afterthought toast)
Silas: I’m sorry for your news, Miss Isringhausen, but if that’s your first taste of liquor,
I’m sorry for the hand you’ve been playing your whole life. (She downs it like a
pro, not taking her eyes off him – sets the glass down.) You mind if I drink from
the bottle?
Miss Isringhausen: No, Sir.
(He takes a swig from the bottle, she starts to sob. He really looks even more
uncomfortable than he has this entire time she’s been in his room – and that was pretty
uncomfortable.)
Silas: Oh boy. (Sits on the bed) Oh boy.
Miss Isringhausen: I’m sorry (sobbing).
Silas: You want me to get outta here?
Miss Isringhausen: It’s your room.
Silas: That’s okay. You’re not a thief. Or would you feel better if I shot myself?
Miss Isringhausen: (she looks up) Why do you say that? (looks to the door and back)
Silas: I apologize. It-it was just a stupid way of trying to be funny.
Miss Isringhausen: Because I fear I may be killed.
Silas: (turns around) What?
Miss Isringhausen: I can’t explain -- It’s nightmarish. It’s incomprehensible.
Silas: Who’s threatening your life?
Miss Isringhausen: Mrs. Garret. (She says with disgust) I know it sounds impossible,
but I can testify to you, Mr. Adams, I would not be the first person she’s killed.
---
(Back up in Al’s office, Dan is fastening strips of cloth to Al’s wrists. Doc is perched
over Al…)

Dan: You want I should tie him high or tie him low?
Doc: (nodding) Tie him high.
Trixie:(at the foot of the bed) Should we go ahead and put a good fuckin’ hit of dope
down him, Doc?
Doc: Yeah, go ahead and get a hit ready.
Dan: (loudly) Al, I have to secure you for surgery!
Doc: What is it, Al? (Al shifts his eyes from Dan to Doc to Dan to Doc to Dan again)
Dan: He’s afraid.
Trixie:You afraid, Al?
Dan: Ah—you’ve got a fear of the knife. He wants to try passin’ them stones natural.
Doc: Are you afraid, Al?
Trixie:(in the middle of the bed, yelling) Are you afraid, Al? (He looks at Trixie & raises
his eyebrows at her) Oh God! I’m on his fucking nuts! (She backs off – Doc goes
to his bag.)
Doc: Goddamn smelling salts is what we’re goin’ to administer! Do you here me, Al?
(holds the vial to Al’s nose) Here is a fucking dose (Al pushes Dan’s face away –
struggling) of smelling salts to your nose! (Al groans)
Johnny: What are you doing, Doc?!
Doc: Be quiet! Sit him up and get him to his goddamn feet! (They all haul him up)
Take his prick out! (Johnny motions to Trixie)
Johnny: Come on! Come on! (They all encourage him, Al begins to leak – eww –
gleets)
Trixie:There you come, Al! There you come!
Dan: There you go! You’re doin’ it!
Doc: There you go, you ox-minded son of a gun! Push at it, you bastard! Push at it!
Dan: Come on, Al!
Trixie:You’d do a horse proud with the strength of that fuckin’ stream!
Doc: Lay him down. Lay Al down on the bed! (They lay him down) We are gonna take
care of this. I’m gonna put this instrument back inside you and clear that
cocksucker you’ve been making progress with, and we are not gonna cut you! (To
Trixie) Bring his knee up to his chest. (To Dan) You hold him down. Johnny,
you…go on out to the balcony.
Johnny: I have charge of the salts!

(Al wheezes in pain, Johnny holds the salts to his nose, Doc inserts the prick-pole)

Doc: Alright—(Al groans) Alright! (instrument clicking) I can feel the fucking click of
the gleet! Alright, now I want you to milk his prick from top to bottom, and I
want you to bring that cocksucker down. (Trixie nods) That’s it. Now.
Trixie:Come on, Al.
Doc: Alright! Look at it! One gleet chasing a-fucking-nother! God—(Al moaning)
God bless you, Al! Thank you. (Hugs Al’s head) Thank you for saving me,
God…

(Al moans weakly, Dan beside him, Johnny on top of Dan, hugging Al’s side, Trixie at the
bottom, Doc to the left.)
---
(Four of the Chez Amie whores are standing next to each other, facing the wall…)

Wolcott: Are you uncomfortable, Girls?


Maddie: They’re fine. You’re paying them to stand in that position, Mr. W.
They’ll stand in that position. They’ve been in more awkward positions before.
Wolcott: Thousands of years ago, in Cyprus, women went about their own lives
only after first spending time as prostitutes at the temple of Aphrodite. (Maddie &
Joanie are sitting up straight and proper as they listen to Wolcott, Carrie is
lounging in another chair, casually fanning herself.) The tribute to their
promiscuity meant to secure for the island the goddess’ grant of bountiful crops
and beautiful weather. (Maddie looks on, Carrie looks askance) Woman’s
generative instrument on the altar of the race’s necessities, have we not come
some far piece since then? (He chuckles, Doris and – Atlantis?- whisper to each
other) Who, for example, fucks on altars anymore, or pretends anything can make
up the weather’s mind?
Carrie: (Fanning herself) Are you gonna fuck me tonight, Francis?
Wolcott: I bore Carrie. (He stands and crosses the room, approaches Doris…) You
were peeking. (She looks at him) I asked you not to look.
Doris: Sorry. (He shoves her to her knees into the corner)
Maddie: Why not just go do what you’re gonna do, Mr. W.?
Wolcott: Am I on a schedule then?
Joanie: She only meant our educations can wait.
Wolcott: I quite enjoyed our talk the other night.
Carrie: Do you want to fuck her?
Wolcott: No. (Grabs Carrie by her shoulders, sits her back in her chair) Carrie, no.
Or I’d say so. (pauses) The atmosphere of the room turns against me. A growing
collective impatience, where should be a haven of indulgence. (He takes out a
pouch and throws it to the floor) Won’t you indulge me?
Joanie: (Through clenched teeth) We’re trying, Mr. W., but you are behaving
badly.
Wolcott: Disappointing, from you who I thought to regale with details of the
myths—gods fornicating with mortals, the endless incest, fathers upon daughters
upon sisters—(Joanie stands up in a huff and walks to the far wall – facing it.)
Maddie: Take her in or get out, please.
Wolcott: Excuse us.
Maddie: Of course. (Carrie rises)
Wolcott: Er, be generous. I think I’ve upset her. (He follows Carrie to the back,
Joanie turns and she and Maddie look at each other.)
---
(Hugo Jarry is taking a bath upstairs in the Bella Union. He blows through his jowls like
a horse, blows bubbles on the chest of the whore bathing him…)

Whore: Well, whatever were you aimin’ at?


Hugo: Your titties! (Playful blubbering, whore snorts, the door opens and Cy enters.
Hugo looks at himself in a mirror –bubbles on his head but not covering his eye!)
Cy: Any chance in here of an imminent (we see Hugo, this time with bubbles covering
his eye!) finish, commissioner? My thought bein’ you might want to deliver our
newspaper editor a certain document before he’s too drunk to make it out.
Hugo: (Takes his glasses off, we can now see both eyes) I think not, until my bath is
finished.
Cy: Uh-huh. And I think a finish would involve (looks at the whore) you blowin’
some of them bubbles underwater, Honey.

(She looks at Hugo provocatively and he quickly leans back and puts his glasses on as
she bends over and proceeds to “blow his bubble.” He reaches for the sky in triumph
and manly bluster. Cy leaves.)
---
(Dan is seated downstairs at a table, receiving a much deserved shoulder rub from a
comely blonde whore. The piano plays “Down by the River” –so helpful CC! Thank you
for that tidbit of information. Now if we can only get you to provide more than “speaking
Chinese” when Mr. Wu is on the screen, we’ll finally be getting somewhere.—Anyway,
Dan looks over and sees Eamon coming. He nods to the whore to stop and leave him –
she does.)

Dan: Eamon.
Eamon: (Sits) Has he per any fuckin’ chance returned from Gayville, Dan, which
he had never been to?
Dan: Al’s upstairs. Now if you agree to a few fuckin’ rules, I’ll give you a brief
audience with him.
Eamon: Don’t it feel good to play at “Boss,” Dan?
Dan: (pointing, angry) Unless you want to sit down here and bust my fuckin’ balls over
you never learnin’ to move amongst civilized people?
Eamon: No, an audience is more important.
Dan: (nods) Alright. Now, you listen careful while we walk up. (They rise and start to
head upstairs) You get up ‘er, you propose the robbery. You give him the
location, the take that you are prepared to guarantee, Al’s fee on that take, and
then a bonus for overage. And then, Eamon, you shut the fuck up. (They stop) Al
has had a tough fucking day. Now, you let him indicate to you however he
fuckin’ chooses as to a yes or a no. Now, that’s fair ain’t it?
Eamon: (snorts) You’re a great man, Dan. It’s you that’s the great one. (looks to
the heavens)
Dan: Don’t bust my fuckin’ balls.
Eamon: Don’t call me “Crop Ear,” you gutless son of a bitch.
Dan: Eamon, we live life however we choose.
Eamon: And you choose life as a cunt standing behind a bar. (He walks on past
Dan.)
Dan: Just tryin’ to do you a favor.
Eamon: I’ll have no favors from you!
Dan: (follows him up, drawing his knife out) Alright, then. Crop Ears. (Grabs Eamon
and slits his throat, Eamon tries reaching for a weapon, but fails) Or whatever the
fuck it is you want to be called! (Johnny moves out from behind the bar…Dan
spits on Eamon’s face as he gasps for air…his neck bleeding.) Trying to gauge
Al’s recovery and do you a fuckin’ favor. (Eamon pushes Dan away, reaching
through the banister…Dan walks downstairs, Johnny approaches him…) Crop
Ears is dyin’ up ‘er. You take him over to the Chinaman’s and you throw him
away.
Johnny: Sure, Dan. (looking confused, concerned) Sure. Yeah, I’ll go get the sled.
Dan: I don’t have the patience for this fucking bullshit! I have had a tough fucking
day!

(The comely blonde whore walks back up to Dan and grabs his shoulder to continue his
massage, he slaps her away, works his shoulder out…)
---
(Back at the Chez Amie, Wolcott is seated in a chair, Carrie is standing nearby, fanning
herself.)

Wolcott: Were you seeing a relative, Carrie, or did the madam withhold you to
frustrate me?
Carrie: (Snaps her fan shut and walks away to sit at the vanity) She doesn’t tell
me why she does things.
Wolcott: But you’d know if you were seeing a relative.
Carrie: Yes. I wasn’t. (She unlaces her shoes.)
Wolcott: Were you seeing anyone?
Carrie: A wild Indian. (looking in the mirror)I fucked him and I fucked his horse.
Wolcott: You hate it here.
Carrie: (looks at Wolcott) I suppose you don’t.
Wolcott: (Shaking his head) I don’t, no. (Carrie stands, walking over to him,
removing her petticoats) The rocks tell me stories. And now I have you.
Carrie: Well, I’m not a crazy person, so they don’t talk to me. And I’m with me
wherever I am, so I wish I was in fucking New York. (Sitting on the bed)
Wolcott: The rocks don’t “talk” to me, but—still I learn their stories.
Carrie: (Taking off her garters and stockings) Oh, I understand now. Thank you
for saying it like I’m a baby.
Wolcott: (stammering) Well, uh…these hills are unimaginably rich.
Carrie: So what?
Wolcott: To compel even the vagrant attentions of someone like my employer.
Carrie: I won’t stay for any amount.
Wolcott: For a large amount, will you stay for a little?
Carrie: (She looks at him) Give me some now.
Wolcott: Of course. (Hands her a fat pouch) It’s more than I gave the madam.
Carrie: (She sets the pouch down next to her on the bed, looks back at him) And
you musn’t hit me like you do the others.
Wolcott: You’ve never displeased me.
Carrie: (She stands, hikes her skirts and straddles him) Don’t-fucking-hit me,
Francis.
Wolcott: Done. Agreed.
Carrie: (She starts to gyrate on him) I will run away to the Indians.
Wolcott: You would change the course of history. Be the first of the women chiefs.
(moaning) Oh…(he closes his eyes, she stops, he sighs) I’m too quick.(He looks
up at her.)
Carrie: You can’t be too quick for me. (She stands and walks back to the bed. He
“repositions” himself.) You might try it sometimes with your prick outside of
your pants.
Wolcott: (pauses) I sense Miss Stubbs has fucked a relative.
Carrie: It’s a big club.
---
(Al lays in bed, all tucked in, a look of relief, resignation and relaxation on his face.)

Al: Pff-fft.
Cast (in credits order)
Timothy Olyphant .... Seth Bullock
Ian McShane .... Al Swearengen
Molly Parker .... Alma Garret
Jim Beaver .... Ellsworth
Brad Dourif .... Doc Cochran
John Hawkes .... Sol Star
Paula Malcomson .... Trixie
Leon Rippy .... Tom Nuttall
William Sanderson .... Eustis Baily (E.B.) Farnum
Robin Weigert .... Calamity Jane
W. Earl Brown .... Dan Dority
Dayton Callie .... Charlie Utter
Anna Gunn .... Martha Bullock
Powers Boothe .... Cy Tolliver / Tolliver
Sean Bridgers .... Johnny Burns
Jeffrey Jones .... A.W. Merrick
Geri Jewell .... Jewel
Bree Seanna Wall .... Sophia
Gill Gayle .... Huckster
Titus Welliver .... Silas Adams
Meghan Glennon .... Lila
Kim Dickens .... Joanie Stubbs
Maddie Alice Krige
Miss Isringhausen Sarah Paulson
William Bullock Josh Eriksson
Con Stapleton Peter Jason
Hugo Jarry Stephen Toblowsky
Carrie Izabella Miko
Mr. Lee Phillip Moon
Lila Meghan Glennon
Eamon Jeff Cahill
Parisse Boothe
Gary Leffew
Chandler Richards
Pete Richardson Ralf Richeson
Alan Jordan
Dolly Asheigh Kizer
Allen Keller
Erica Swanson
Publicity images & episode content © 2005 Home Box Office. All Rights Reserved.
HBO and Deadwood are service marks of Home Box Office, Inc. Transcript © 2005
Cristi H. Brockway. The copyright claimed by Cristi H. Brockway herein is solely on her
personal contribution of material not contained in the episode from which this transcript
was compiled. Any commercial use of this transcript is expressly prohibited.
Episode 17: “Complications”

Directed by: Gregg Fienberg


Written by: Victoria Morrow
Episode 17: “Complications”
(In Alma’s room at the Grand Central, Sofia is sleeping soundly. We see Alma in the
background, clambering to get out of bed and reach the pitcher on the bedstand. She
makes in just in time for a nice morning retch. She wipes her mouth, breathing heavily,
contemplating…she turns her head as if to gaze upon Sofia…We see Al, lying in bed,
wheezing. Doc is sitting next to him, sipping from a tin cup.)

Johnny: Psst!

(He motions his head to Al, stirring from his slumber. Dan is sitting in a chair on the
other side of the bed, gazing happily upon his employer.)

Al: Boys. (Johnny stands up next to Dan)


Doc: How are you?
Al: (Looks around, sees Dan smiling happily at him, he points at Dan) Did you fuck
me while I was out?
Dan: Hell, no.
Al: Well quit looking at me like that.
Johnny: (Laughs) Except for talking a little cockeyed, Al is back to his accustomed
self!
Doc: And what that is, speech—crisis he went through, Al’s body parts are showing
they’re healing at different rates.
Johnny: Well, you talk cockeyed, Boss, all you want, long as you want, just so
you’re miserable and mean.
Al: How cockeyed do I look?
Doc: Appropriately cockeyed, for one who’s been through what you have, and then the
fall you took.
Al: Bullock look worse?
Doc: Naming your adversary shows your memory is intact.
Dan: You’re gonna have to gather all your fuckin’ wiles, Al, ‘cause they’s
developments that need interpretatin’ on every front.
Doc: Al is out of the development interpretation business for the short time bein’.
Dan: Wu’s got a big tall Celestial what’s hauntin’ him. He’s invisible. W-Wu’s
convinced he’s from San Francisco.
Doc: Goddamnit, Dan. Will you shut the fuck up and let this man harbor his resources?
Al: You look in chink’s alley? You see any big unfamiliar chinks?
Dan: Well, there ain’t nothing to it, Al. I just told you for a giggle. I mean, you know?
Excitable Wu.
Al: So what else is new?

(Doc shakes his head and mouths “Nothing” to Johnny.)

Johnny: Nothing special—


Dan: Not a goddamn thing that can’t wait till you get well, Boss. (Nods to Doc.)
Al: There is a bell…behind the bar.
Johnny: Absolutely.
Al: I know there is a bell. I’m telling you I want it brought over here.
Johnny: Absolutely, Al.

(Doc motions for Dan to go too.)

Dan: Uh, I-I best help. If there’s anybody can fuck up the gatherin’ of a bell, it’s
Johnny. (He leaves)
Doc: (Pouring some water) You want some water?
Al: Yeah. Fuckin’ water.

(Doc sets the glass on the edge of the table, Al looks at it. He looks back at an expectant
Doc.)

Al: Don’t be a fuckin’ jerk.

(Doc picks up the glass and brings it to Al’s lips. Al takes a sip.)

Doc: Your right eye is filled with blood. Can you use your right arm at all?

(Al musters up enough strength to lift his arm up slightly and over to Doc, he puts his
hand on Doc’s.)

Al: Put your nose between my fingers, you’ll find how much I can use my fucking
arm.
Doc: That’s good. That is a good sign, Al.
Al: Don’t bullshit me.
Doc: I won’t. I think you’ve had a small stroke, guessing maybe from the strain of that
stone.
Al: You keep bullshittin’ them.
Doc: I will.
Al: This gets out, I’ll slit your fuckin’ throat. I wield a blade good with my left.
Doc: It won’t get out.
Al: If I need it, you will fuckin’ kill me.
Doc: You stop that.
Al: You find me no better, you will wish to hell I was fucking worse, ‘cause I wield a
blade good with my left.
Doc: (Shaking his head) Don’t you put a fuckin’ clock on this.
---
(E.B. is standing beside the staircase of the hotel, pacing, practicing his speech to Alma.)

EB: Madam, in the chambers of my heart beats a love for every crooked timber of this
shitbox of a structure, this building. This building, it’s warped floorboards and—
(We here plates crashing)
Richardson: Fie!
EB: Why, even Richardson my chef, my eyes see a beloved household pet somehow
walking upright…See in Richardson…a half-witted child, nonetheless adored.
(Alma comes down the stairs) Oh, Mrs. Garret. Uh, the very subject of my
thoughts.
Alma: May I borrow Richardson, please, Mr. Farnum, to escort me on an errand?
EB: (Steps closer) Would you prefer other company, Ma’am? Less mysterious?
Alma: (Glaring at E.B.) No, Mr. Farnum.
EB: Richardson! (Richardson turns and hurries over.)
Richardson: I saved a lot. I’ll mop the rest in a moment.
EB: Go with Mrs. Garret.
Alma: Thank you, Mr. Farnum. (She proceeds ahead, Richardson following.)
EB: Eyes down. (Richardson does as told, E.B. continues practicing his speech)
Therefore, Madam, as to your generous offer to purchase my hotel, I must
gratefully decline.
---
(Commissioner Jarry enters Merrick’s printing office.)

Merrick: Oh.
Hugo: I take you for the man in charge.
Merrick: A.W. Merrick, Sir, owner, publisher, editor-in-chief, and for the moment,
sole reporter.
Hugo: Hugo Jarry, County Commissioner appointed by Governor Pennington.
Merrick: Of-of this county?
Hugo: Yes.
Merrick: (Excited) Has our county a name?
Hugo: Lawrence County.
Merrick: Ah—Well! Well, thank you for that information, and congratulations.
Lawrence, Lawrence County.
Hugo: (Crossing the room) My father was a newspaperman. “Lowell Sentinel-Bee.” I
was raised among these contraptions.
Merrick: Were you?
Hugo: Great respect for the fourth estate. (Pulls the notice out of his bag and holds it out
for Merrick) Here’s a statement to be printed.
Merrick: (Unfolds the statement) “As to ownership of the claims in the newly
constituted county of Lawrence, as annexed to the Dakota Territory, a
presumption of legitimate title shall obtain for claims worked actively and
continuously prior to amendment of the treaty with the Sioux Nation, September,
1876. This presumption shall be subject to qualification according to mitigating
facts.” Uh, if I discern this correctly, Sir, this statement could be taken to mean,
uh, nothing.
Hugo: The statement continues.
Merrick: (sighs) “New title will be awarded on claims to which title is denied at set
prices via lottery. As conducted by the County Commissioner.”
Hugo: I would be grateful if that gets in your next edition.
Merrick: I must tell you, Commissioner, that even with that last bit added, what
exactly will or won’t qualify or mitigate the presumption of ownership eludes me.
Hugo: I didn’t realize that was a bar the statement had to hurdle.
Merrick: Uh, with-without an accompanying explanation, Sir, this statement may
work an unsettling effect.
Hugo: In any case, Sir, being the Commissioner of this county and bidding you good
day, I have presented you with that to publish in your paper as organ of record in
this camp. (Merrick looks at Jarry, then back to the statement…) Front page.
---
(Alma is standing outside the Gem. She puts her hand down on a stack of antlers, as if to
lean, realizes what they are and picks one up. She settles it in her hand, a determined
look on her face. Richardson comes out of the Gem and scuttles over to Alma – not
looking up.)

Richardson: Trixie’s to the hardware store, (Alma looks in its direction) the big one
said.
Alma: May we go there then, Richardson? Have you time?
Richardson: Yes. I only have stew to mop before lunch.

(Alma turns and heads across the thoroughfare. The antler still clutched in her hand.
Richardson follows. She realizes she’s still holding the antler and contemplates handing
it to Richardson, thinks better of it, and continues walking determinedly to the hardware
store.)

Richardson: I like you.


Alma: Thank you, Richardson.
Richardson: You’re purdy.
Alma: Thank you very much. And probably that’s all either of us needs to say on that
subject ever again. (She pauses outside the hardware store. Turns to
Richardson…) I’m uncertain how long I may be, so I’ll send you back to the
hotel. Would you be so kind as to return this to the pile outside the Gem? (She
hands him the antler – he gazes lovingly at it, as if it’s the best gift in the world –
she puts some coins in his hand.) Thank you, Richardson. (He doesn’t move, still
dumbstruck at the antlers.) Goodbye. (She turns and leaves.)
---
(Trixie is seated behind the desk, working on her studies. She gets frustrated…)

Trixie:Oh, cunt!

(She throws her pencil down violently, it bounces to the ground. Seth looks up at her.
She looks at him, stubbornly “what?” – Sol smiles at her. Alma enters, looking at Trixie.)

Alma: Good Morning. (Seth stands.)


Trixie:Morning.
Alma: May we have a private word? (Trixie nods, grabs her cigarettes. Sol & Seth start
to head for the back.)
Trixie:Don’t flee, don’t flee. I’m going outside for a smoke. (She walks past Alma
outside. Alma pauses for a moment…)