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) |
||
|
Seth Bullock |
||
|
Alma Garret |
||
|
Ellsworth |
||
|
Sol Star |
||
|
Trixie |
||
|
Tom Nuttall |
||
|
Eustis Baily (E.B.) Farnum |
||
|
Calamity Jane |
||
|
Dan Dority |
||
|
Charlie Utter |
||
|
Vgilante Rider |
||
|
Johnny Burns |
||
|
Whore #6 |
||
|
Vigilante |
||
|
Wild Bill Hickock |
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
Gem Whore |
||
|
Byron Sampson |
||
|
Jack McCall |
||
|
|
||
|
Huckster |
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
Miner in the Gem Saloon |
||
|
|
||
|
Stapleton |
||
|
Jewel |
||
|
A.W. Merrick |
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
Rev. H.W. Smith (as Raymond
McKinnon) |
||
|
|
||
|
Brom Garret |
||
|
|
||
|
Jimmy Irons |
||
|
|
||
|
(as Raynor Scheine) |
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
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.