Pilot
by Deadwoodon Season 1Epigraph: "But let us note, too, how glory may flare, of a sudden, up, from the filth of the world's floor."
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.)
(Bullock has opened the front door to the jail house to admit
SOL STAR --
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.)
BULLOCK
If he has to hang tonight Sol it's
going to be 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.)
SUPER:
DEADWOOD SETTLEMENT
BLACK HILLS INDIAN CESSION
JUNE 1876
EXT. THE ENTRANCE TO DEADWOOD GULCH - DAY
A wagon drawn by a team of eight oxen. The CAMERA ELEVATES
to place the team and wagon in a line of twenty wagons. The
wagons aren't moving, stalled in the traffic, wheels sunk
into ground softened by the spring thaw and runoff and rutted
by the passage over the past weeks of dozens of other wagon
teams headed into Deadwood. We hear the voice of CALAMITY
JANE --
CALAMITY JANE (O.S.)
What a fucking circus!
The CAMERA FINDS her making her way back to the wagon. She's
thirty, graceless, dressed as a man; carries a bullwhip --
CALAMITY JANE
Half-a-mile's worth of wagons, all
the way back from the camp.
The driver's smallish, in buckskin. His name is CHARLIE UTTER --
UTTER
Shit.
CALAMITY JANE
Must be fifty wagons before our group
even starts.
UTTER
Shit.
CALAMITY JANE
It's not my fault, is it?
UTTER
Who said it was?
CALAMITY JANE
Don't blame me.
UTTER
I can say "shit," can't I?
They consider each other a stalemated beat, then Jane
addresses some unseen second occupant in the covered back of
the wagon --
CALAMITY JANE
Tremendous line of wagons Bill.
INT. CHARLIE UTTER'S WAGON - CONTINUOUS
Lying on his back like a corpse in state, Wild Bill Hickok
tries to outlast a migraine and hangover --
HICKOK
That's the hold-up, eh?
CALAMITY JANE
Tremendous line, and no fucking room
to maneuver.
The back step of the wagon takes Jane's weight, quashing
Hickok's hopes he'll be left alone. Jane look in on Hickok,
her idol and unrequited love. Hickok's eyes stay closed --
HICKOK
Sound's like it's tighter out there
than a bull's ass in fly season Jane.
An incongruous shyness itself to Jane's manner --
CALAMITY JANE
How's your headache?
HICKOK
Not bad.
CALAMITY JANE
You want a drink?
HICKOK
No.
CALAMITY JANE
Believe me, we're going to be a
fucking while.
HICKOK
Maybe later.
CALAMITY JANE
Don't say I didn't warn you.
HICKOK
No.
Jane's head disappears. Off Hickok, eyes still closed --
RESUME - JANE - OUTSIDE THE WAGON
climbing down; frustrated at her desire to be of service,
she addresses the assembled wagons as a single obstructive
entity --
CALAMITY JANE
It's only Wild Bill Hickok you got
stalled here in the muck, you ignorant
fucking cunts.
Off which --
CUT TO:
EXT. MAIN STREET - DEADWOOD - DAY
The camp's thoroughfare congested by freight teams and the
activities of two newly arrived gambling outfits, who build
up good will by parading their whores on horseback and giving
whiskey away outside the tents where they'll be doing business --
A NAKED WOMAN appears amid the wagons and horseback traffic.
She's a whore, benumbed by narcotics -- in an almost trance-
like state as she walks barefooted through the muck. A big
man, DAN DORITY, comes out of nowhere -- caries a blanket
which he throws around her -- leads her toward --
INT. GEM THEATER - DAY
The saloon's proprietor, AL SWEARENGEN, is weighing a bearded
middle-aged miner named ELLSWORTH's gold poke on a scale
behind the bar --
SWEARENGEN
Eight and one half ounces.
ELLSWORTH
That's not a bad clean-up, is it
Swearengen?
SWEARENGEN
Hell no it's not.
The camera's CLOSER SCRUTINY reveals Swearengen's thumb
adjusting the scale's balance in his favor --
ELLSWORTH
What's that amount to in dollars? I
know but I want to hear you say it.
From the door behind, Dority enters with the whore -- takes
her to the back rooms.
Swearengen's removed the weights from the scale, shows the
miner a series of computations chalked on a board --
SWEARENGEN
Eight ounces of gold times twenty
dollars an ounce is a hundred sixty,
plus ten dollars for a half-ounce
makes a hundred seventy total.
Dority re-emerges from the rear --
ELLSWORTH
Inform you dealers and whores of my
credit and pour me a goddamn drink.
As he pours the whiskey Swearengen looks to Dority, his number
one muscle guy, indicates the miner with a show of respect --
SWEARENGEN
Hundred seventy credit Dan, for
Ellsworth.
The bouncer falls in with his boss's tone --
DORITY
Yes sir, one seventy for Ellsworth,
I'll let everyone know.
ELLSWORTH
(re his drink)
First one today with this hand.
He downs his shot, lets the liquor burn --
ELLSWORTH
Pour me another My Good Man.
SWEARENGEN
An honor and pleasure My Good Man.
As Swearengen pours the drink --
SWEARENGEN
Now are these rumors true you're
descended from the British nobility?
ELLSWORTH
I'm descended from all them
cocksuckers.
The miner downs his second shot --
ELLSWORTH
Eight and one-half ounces.
He coughs, situating the ropes of mucous in his lungs more
to his satisfaction --
ELLSWORTH
I tell you what -- I may have fucked
my life up flatter'n hammered shit,
but I stand before you today beholden
to no human cocksucker and working a
paying fucking gold claim -- and not
the U.S. Government saying I'm
trespassing or the savage fucking
Red Man himself or any of these other
limber-dick cocksuckers passing
themselves off as prospectors had
better try to stop me.
SWEARENGEN
They better not try it in here.
ELLSWORTH
Goddamnit Swearengen, I don't trust
you as far as I could throw you but
I enjoy the way you lie.
SWEARENGEN
Thank you My Good Man.
ELLSWORTH
You're welcome, you conniving heavy-
thumbed mother-fucker.
We hear a gunshot from the rooms behind the bar. The Miner
crouches --
ELLSWORTH
Watch out.
Ellsworth stays low, heads for the door.
Swearengen's gaze moves in the opposite direction, to Dan
Dority, who is rising --
SWEARENGEN
I warned you about her.
Like Swearengen, Dority's already hurrying in the direction
of the sound --
INT. THE GEM - ROOMS AT THE REAR - DAY
Swearengen enters, crouches before a mortally wounded TRICK,
sitting against the wall, shot through the temple.
At the entrance to the room stands a whore names TRIXIE,
whose face looks like raw meat --
TRIXIE
I said not to beat on me. I told
him.
Dan Dority's just found Trixie's Derringer under the mattress --
DORITY
Got her pistol Al.
Meanwhile Swearengen's going through the Trick's pockets --
TRICK
Barnett Robinson, Ticonderoga New
York. Do you find it?
SWEARENGEN
Yeah here it is.
Swearengen's extracted an envelope --
TRICK
That's who to notify if this thing
goes wrong.
SWEARENGEN
Barnett Robinson. I've got it right
here.
Off which --
CUT TO:
EXT. ENTRANCE TO THE GULCH - DAY
From the back of the wagon Hickok has climbed forward to sit
beside Charlie --
HICKOK
Why don't we hobble the stock here
Charlie and ride ahead into town.
Utter calls to Calamity Jane, who's been walking ahead --
UTTER
(re oxen)
Let's pull these bastards out of
line Jane --
(indicates saddle
horses)
Bill and me may ride ahead into camp.
Jane climbs up on the wagon --
CALAMITY JANE
Once I see to the stock, I may do
the same.
Utter hands her the reins as he and Hickok descend --
UTTER
We'll know where to find you.
CALAMITY JANE
What in hell do you mean by that?
UTTER
Nothing.
CALAMITY JANE
That I enjoy a fucking drink?
UTTER
Oh for Christ's sake.
CALAMITY JANE
I wasn't aware that's outlawed.
HICKOK
Thanks for looking to the stock.
She's instantly placated --
CALAMITY JANE
Excuse my ill-humor. Certain people
wear on my fucking nerves.
She breaks out her bullwhip --
CALAMITY JANE
Yaaah!
Jane cracks the whip above the oxen's heads as Hickok and
Utter ride away --
HICKOK
(deadpan)
She likes me better than she likes
you.
UTTER
I wish to hell I knew what I ever
did to get on that woman's wrong
side.
RESUME - JANE - THE WAGON
Jane now notes a solitary wagon, occupied by a family of
five and drawn by two horses, making its way in the opposite
direction. The man and woman and their three children are
blond. The youngest of the children, a five-year-old girl,
stares at Jane. The wagon finds passage by navigating on the
incline at the side of the mud path. It tilts precariously.
Jane addresses the driver --
CALAMITY JANE
You know a back way into the camp?
DRIVER
We don't go to the camp.
The man's speech is heavily accented. He's used to having to
repeat himself to be understood --
DRIVER
We go home. Back to Minnesota.
CALAMITY JANE
You've probably got the right idea.
Off which --
CUT TO:
EXT. MAIN STREET - DEADWOOD - DAY
CAMERA FINDS Star and Bullock, the partners who have begun
to unload their goods in proximity to Swearengen's saloon,
and have heard the gunshot --
STAR
It's a new day, isn't it Seth? --
not having to deal with every no-
account who can pull a trigger?
During which Bullock has seemed to process some internal
conflict --
BULLOCK
Think we're over-represented in the
slop-pot department here Sol?
Which refers to the wares they're unloading. Bullock's tacit
acceptance of their mercantile identity brings Star relief --
STAR
An asset to every domicile. No such
thing as having too many slop-pots
to sell.
Unnoticed, JOHNNY BURNS and DOC COCHRAN move by -- enter The
Gem --
CUT TO:
INT. THE GEM - ROOMS AT THE REAR
Swearengen rises as in come Johnny Burns and Doc Cochran.
Cochran greets the prostitute as he moves past --
COCHRAN
How are you Trixie?
TRIXIE
I told him don't beat on me Doc.
SWEARENGEN
(to Trixie)
No one asked for your version.
TRIXIE
He said I robbed him them he started
in beating on me.
(to the Trick)
And I didn't rob you!
TRICK
I don't remember now.
TRIXIE
I didn't, goddamnit!
Cochran's crouching before the Trick, appraising his wounds.
The Trick tries to raise his left hand to his left temple --
TRICK
She shot me right through the head.
COCHRAN
Keep your fingers out of it.
TRICK
Is it bad Doc?
COCHRAN
Quiet till I look.
Cochran watches the Trick die --
COCHRAN
It was adequate to the purpose.
SWEARENGEN
(to Dority)
Get the Chinaman.
Cochran reacts to this --
COCHRAN
(to Swearengen, re
the dead man)
I'd sure like to know how he lasted
twenty minutes shot straight through
the brain.
SWEARENGEN
Prospect in him till Dan finds the
Chinaman.
COCHRAN
Could I take him to my place?
SWEARENGEN
Sure --
(to Johnny Burns)
-- help Doc move this guy --
(to Dority)
-- bring the Chinaman to the Doc's.
DORITY
Sure I will.
Dority exits --
BURNS
(to Cochran)
I'll bring the sled right in Doc.
COCHRAN
Good.
Cochran's crouched again in front of the stiff, can't keep
himself from probing the wound in his head --
SWEARENGEN
You drink free today Doc. And I'd
hope any talk of this would keep the
gun out of the whore's hand.
COCHRAN
That wouldn't come from me.
Swearengen approaches Trixie --
SWEARENGEN
C'mere.
TRIXIE
I said to stop.
SWEARENGEN
Tell me in my office.
Swearengen's grabbed her arm, exits with her past Burns,
who, returned with the stretcher, winces as he sees Cochran's
probe -- introduced into the entrance wound at the Trick's
left temple -- emerge from the exit wound on the other side
of the dead man's skull --
BURNS
(plaintive objection)
Doc.
COCHRAN
Either something was peculiar in
this man's cerebral set-up, or they
can write off the forebrain as the
seat of thought and speech.
BURNS
Let's just get him on the sled --
As Cochran and Burns proceed with this task --
COCHRAN
It won't matter to Mr. Wu's pig.
Off which --
CUT TO:
EXT. MAIN STREET - DAY
Bullock and Star unload their wagon among the long-horned
oxen clogging the thoroughfare. A LOUDMOUTH on horseback
observes them --
LOUDMOUTH
Jesus Christ Almighty. Two hundred
miles through Indian country to have
to put up with this crap.
STAR
We're pretty near done. We had a
long wait same as you.
LOUDMOUTH
I'm just wondering of that's the
first wagon you ever unloaded. Hold
my fucking horse, I'll show you how
to do it.
Bullock fixes his gaze on the Loudmouth --
BULLOCK
We know what we're doing. Go back to
your wagon.
LOUDMOUTH
And what if I don't.
BULLOCK
Stand there mouthing off and you'll
find out.
Hickok and Utter, riding into town, slow their horses on
hearing this. Star approaches the Loudmouth with a chamber
pot --
STAR
Have a commode for your inconvenience.
Bullock turns away, disowning Star's gesture at conciliation --
LOUDMOUTH
(to Star)
You think I'm paying you for that?
STAR
Free from Star and Bullock Hardware,
open in Deadwood 'soon as we locate.
Star hasn't given the Loudmouth a handle to keep hold of the
dispute --
LOUDMOUTH
Hurry up and get finished!
The Loudmouth rides away carrying the commode. Hickok's
watched with interest. For a beat his eyes and Bullock's
meet, exchanging some shared recognition. As Hickok and Utter
continue toward the hotel --
STAR
My father's last words, just before
he passed away there in Vienna --
"Sol, those who can't abide a goddamn
fool get slowed down some at retail."
BULLOCK
I've got to put a book together of
your old man's deathbed sayings.
STAR
That was Wild Bill Hickok just riding
past us Seth. I've seen him in
photographs.
BULLOCK
Pin a rose on Wild Bill.
Bullock and Star note, in b.g., Burns and Doc Cochran
transporting the body of the Trick, covered by a now-
bloodstained sheet, toward Cochran's office --
CUT TO:
INT. GRAND CENTRAL HOTEL - LOBBY - DAY
E.B. FARNUM, room clerk and sole proprietor of the Grand
Central Hotel, behind the front desk. Farnum's hands are
always clammy, but the legendary Hickok standing across from
him has sweat beading on his forehead and words spilling
from his mouth --
FARNUM
We'd heard rumors you might be coming,
but you can't believe every rumor.
We heard you might be coming from
Cheyenne.
HICKOK
Here I am.
FARNUM
If every rumor was true, we'd all
have been scalped now by the Sioux,
or the government would've tossed us
out as treaty violators.
Hickok just stares at him. The nervous Farnum seeks a
transition, offers his hand to Utter --
FARNUM
E.B. Farnum. How do you do?
Utter shakes hands --
UTTER
Charlie Utter. You've got some mighty
clammy hands there Pardner.
FARNUM
Damp palms run in my family.
As Farnum wipes his hands on his vest --
FARNUM
Here to prospect Mr. Hickok? -- or
on other business?
HICKOK
I'm here to get a room. Are you here
selling 'em?
As Farnum's asshole puckers --
UTTER
Could we get two? We're worn out
looking at each other.
FARNUM
Separate rooms. I'll arrange that by
tomorrow but today I can't arrange
it.
(to Hickok)
Unless you kill a guest.
It's a stab at humor. E.B. wishes he could grab the words
from the air and stuff them back in his mouth --
CUT TO:
INT. THE GEM - TRIXIE'S ROOM - DAY
A counseling session. Swearengen sits on a chair. Trixie's
on her bed --
TRIXIE
He lost his stake gambling. He told
me before he passed out. Said he'd
lost his stake and hadn't found no
gold and he was going back east after
one last piece of pussy.
SWEARENGEN
None of that's anything to me.
TRIXIE
Wakes back up and starts in beating
on me, where's his stake, where's
all his money...
SWEARENGEN
You call Dan or you call Johnny --
TRIXIE
-- it must've been me took it from
him.
SWEARENGEN
-- you don't shoot nobody 'cause
that's bad for my business --
He tosses to the floor the crumpled envelope with the address
of the Trick's next-of-kin --
SWEARENGEN
-- and it's bad for the camp's
reputation.
TRIXIE
Do what you're going to do to me.
SWEARENGEN
Don't tell me what to do.
A beat, then he grabs her by the throat, throws her on her
back and puts his boot to her neck, pulling hard on her arm
for balance and to cut her breath off. It's how she'd always
dreamed she'd end. Her eyes bulge as she begins to suffocate --
SWEARENGEN
Either way this comes out we'll only
have to do it once.
Trixie's neck and face have gone purple above where
Swearengen's has her by the throat. The anger's out of her,
all that's left is a wistful fear. Her eyes glaze as she
begins to die. Swearengen slacks his hold. She chokes, gasps.
He watches, ready to finish her --
SWEARENGEN
What's it going to be Trixie?
TRIXIE
(barely audible,
childlike)
I'll be good. I'll take what they do
to me.
SWEARENGEN
All right then.
Off which --
FADE OUT.
END ACT ONE
ACT TWO
FADE IN:
EXT. MAIN STREET - NIGHT
Burning torches illuminate the street at irregular intervals.
Still a few wagons being unloaded. Among the considerable
pedestrian traffic, mostly on the lookout for trouble, are
various open-air commercial establishments, including
Flaherty's Tonsorial And Dental Tent, from which emerge howls
of unremitted pain. The CAMERA FINDS --
A TENT
Its flap being thrown open from inside by Bullock, revealing,
as he steps out, a makeshift counter behind which Star is
situated and which displays their items for sale --
BULLOCK
Come have a look boys, Star and
Bullock Hardware and Mercantile just
open for business. We've got boots
to sell you, leather and rubber --
STAR
Leather boots ten dollars, rubber
boots fifteen.
BULLOCK
We've got picks, pans, and shovels --
STAR
Picks for twelve dollars, shovels at
ten and pans at eight.
BULLOCK
We've got placer-cradles, the
prospector's best friend --
STAR
Perfected at the Montana Strikes,
sifting-cradles at twenty-five dollars --
BULLOCK
We've got chamber-pots to sell, and
if you don't know what one of those
is the man living next to you will
appreciate your finding out.
STAR
Step up gentlemen and purchase quality
goods!
CUSTOMER #1
(at the counter)
I'll look at your biggest rubber
boots.
STAR
I got 'em right here.
Star proceeds to pull the boots from stock while Bullock
demonstrates the rocking motion of a placer cradle for a
miner --
BULLOCK
(for all to hear)
We stand by out 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 shill approaches from the margin of the gathered onlookers --
SHILL
Son of a bitch, the man said I might
get a prize!
His astonished outburst having drawn attention, the shill
exhibits a torn plain-paper wrapper in one hand and a five-
dollar bill in the other --
SHILL
I paid fifty cents for the bar of
soap, and here's a five-dollar prize
in the wrapper!
CUSTOMER #2
(to the shill)
Where'd you buy that soap at?
SHILL
Man standing right over there.
The shill's mug turns sour as Bullock come between him and
the mark --
BULLOCK
Front your game away from our tent.
The shill, having checked out Bullock's eyes, calls out as
he drifts away --
SHILL
Cash prizes in every night's case of
soap.
Under the last of which a voice bellows toward Star from the
rear of the gathering --
CUSTOMER #3
Store-keep! Hold some large rubber
boots till I get there and I'll pay
you two dollars extra.
BULLOCK
Set prices boys, and first-come-first-
to-be-served.
(to Customer #3, in
friendly placation)
We'll get you squared away.
Star looks to Bullock --
STAR
We should've brought more damn boots.
Off the partners, pleased at the action --
CUT TO:
INT. GRAND CENTRAL HOTEL - HALLWAY - NIGHT
Hickok, in near-foppish finery, leans against the wall outside
in the room he shares with Utter. As when he was seen
reclining in the wagon, the absence of expression in his
features suggests a corpse in state, of a figure in a wax
museum. But Hickok's eyes animate warily at the first sound
of Utter's voice --
UTTER (O.S.)
Conviction's coming over me Bill.
I'm feeling more and more positive.
The man-killer relaxes his vigilance --
UTTER (O.S.)
Are you out there?
HICKOK
And ready for whiskey?
UTTER (O.S.)
Which way will you provide for the
new Mrs. Hickok is the sole and only
question. Not if you make a stake,
but how. It's just a matter of you
focusing down, and choosing from
alternatives.
Utter appears, as well turned-out as his friend, mustering a
self-approving enthusiasm which is meant to infect Hickok --
UTTER
"Strangers in town, trouble expected."
HICKOK
This is my last camp Charlie.
Utter chooses to put a positive cast on this --
UTTER
Amen Pardner. We got the same exact
conviction. This one gets it done.
Off which --
CUT TO:
INT. THE GEM - SWEARENGEN'S OFFICE - NIGHT
Swearengen's shaving, getting ready for the night's activity.
Farnum and Burns are present --
SWEARENGEN
Wild Bill Hickok. Nothing can ever
be simple.
FARNUM
(tentative)
He didn't speak of having lawman
ambitions Al.
SWEARENGEN
Didn't he? How many communities was
he a lawman in?
FARNUM
We're an illegal settlement on Indian
land. What law's he going to enforce?
Swearengen's pursuing his own line of thought --
SWEARENGEN
Plus here come two new gambling
outfits for me to deal with.
BURNS
'Far as that goes Al, they say they
met in Bismark by coincidence, the
Chicago group in by railroad and the
Wyoming boys coming off the river.
SWEARENGEN
Goof Johnny, you stay a fucking
imbecile. When I see lighting I expect
thunder, and when two outfits come
into camp together and one trumpets
faro and the other one craps I feel
like they might've had a conversation.
He drinks, in his element, widening his horizons to consider
other impositions by Fate on the smooth enactment of his
will --
SWEARENGEN
Starting right the fuck with Custer
getting himself massacred, it's one
thing after another. Leaves the
godless savage cocksucker Sioux on
the warpath. We could be operating
here in peace.
Dan Dority comes in --
DORITY
That New York Dude's downstairs Al.
SWEARENGEN
Did he order whiskey?
DORITY
Yeah.
SWEARENGEN
Did he down it or is he sipping at
it?
DORITY
He's sipping.
SWEARENGEN
Why did I even ask?
(to Farnum)
Go get Tim Driscoll. Make sure the
Dude sees you leave.
FARNUM
What should I tell Tim?
SWEARENGEN
Send him over here. Tell him he's
drunk and sorry for himself. Give
him five minutes, then you come back.
FARNUM
All right Al.
Farnum's about to leave, pauses --
FARNUM
'Far as Hickok, Al, if I'd pushed
him any harder on his plans I was
afraid he'd shoot me.
SWEARENGEN
Go get Driscoll.
Farnum splits --
SWEARENGEN
(re Farnum)
Afraid he'd shoot him. Got that Dude
downstairs gut-hooked and ready to
land, here come all these
distractions. Whore can't bang the
trick and take his money, she has to
put one in his head.
Swearengen's minions carefully indicate assent --
SWEARENGEN
How about Doc Cochran for a sick son-
of-a-bitch Boys?
(or Burns)
Did you see the gleeful little grin
on his mug when he shoved that rod
into the Stiff's head? Don't run
into Doc on any graveyards if you
want to see the sun rise.
Swearengen's dressed, ready --
SWEARENGEN
Let's get that Dude's money.
Off which --
CUT TO:
INT. THE GEM - WHORES' WAITING ROOM - NIGHT
Six whores. Trixie's not among them. They smoke, drink beer,
ready to be called --
WHORE #1
I won't work early shifts.
WHORE #2
You get a mean-type trick.
WHORE #1
But I'll bet she was quick to the
gun.
WHORE #3
You can call out awhile till Dan or
Johnny show up.
WHORE #4
And meanwhile be taking a beating.
WHORE #2
But she's a mean type herself.
Burns shows up to herd them off to work --
BURNS
Let's go.
As the girls rise --
WHORE #4
(to Whore #2)
She must've done some fancy fucking
to keep Al from killing her.
WHORE #5
(to herself)
Some of them new Chicago girls looked
shiny.
WHORE #6
See how they look in two weeks.
Off which --
CUT TO:
INT. THE GEM - TRIXIE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
JEWEL, the whores' maid, having helped Trixie dress, now
helps her get to her feet. Trixie looks at herself in a shard
of mirror. After a beat --
TRIXIE
I need another gun.
JEWEL
For in case they beat on you.
She holds out a brooch to Jewel --
TRIXIE
Never mind what for. Just get me
another gun.
Off which --
CUT TO:
INT. THE GEM - SALOON - NIGHT
At the bar, BROM GARRET, thirty, a genial dilettante, reacts
as --
SWEARENGEN (O.S.)
Brom Garret Of Manhattan --
Swearengen, whose tone and features have taken on a new
affability, joins the younger man --
SWEARENGEN
-- Scourge Of The deadwood Faro
Tables.
Brom grins self-consciously --
BROM
C'mon Al. Don't think I confuse two
nights holding good cards with being
a faro sharp.
SWEARENGEN
(to Dority)
Two here Dan.
(re Brom's drink)
You see a finish to that?
Brom nods, drains the remainder of his drink, trying not to
gag --
BROM
Did you hear Bill Hickok's in town?
SWEARENGEN
Yes I did. Does that give you the
vapors?
Brom's a little surprised by Swearengen's breezily standoffish
tone. Studies Swearengen --
BROM
Are you mad about something Al?
SWEARENGEN
I'm not mad about nothing. All's I
can tell you, things sort out pretty
fast around here Brom. They sort out
fast in Deadwood, and I vouched for
you with Tim Driscoll two hours in
here last night when I gather you
must've been home in bed sleeping,
and the end result, Tim's just about
got his claim sold to E.B. Farnum.
BROM
What? Where's Driscoll now?
SWEARENGEN
Not here so I'd assume at his hotel.
BROM
You told me he's here by six.
SWEARENGEN
Well he ain't yet.
BROM
Al, E.B. Farnum just saw me here and
headed for the door.
SWEARENGEN
Well I wouldn't know how to interpret
that.
Brom rubs his neck --
BROM
I was doing the leg-work Al. I was
doing the due-diligence. You tell me
Driscoll's got money trouble and
he's a motivated seller. Fair enough.
But how did I know his claim's not
played out? I had to do the leg-work
on that.
SWEARENGEN
I see. Fair enough.
BROM
That's what I had to ascertain.
Dority's brought the drinks. Swearengen points to himself to
indicate they're on the house, downs his drink as Dority
leaves --
SWEARENGEN
And did you do the leg-work?
Brom throws his drink down too, doesn't gag, then --
BROM
Al --
Brom's right hand is on the bar; he opens his fingers part
way to reveal what he's concealed hitherto -- a nugget of
gold; Swearengen reacts quickly --
SWEARENGEN
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.
SWEARENGEN
All's I can say Brom, I only hope
while you were winning the battle
you didn't lose the fucking war.
BROM
But now Driscoll's not here, and
E.B. Farnum see me and heads for the
door.
SWEARENGEN
That's my fucking point.
Dority ostentatiously clears his throat, indication the
approach of a full-featured, red-faced Irishman --
BROM
Who is that?
SWEARENGEN
Tim Driscoll, shit-faced. You may
still be in luck.
Off which --
CUT TO:
INT. NUTTALL AND MANN'S SALOON NUMBER TEN - NIGHT
Hickok and Utter enter the saloon --
ANGLE - A.W. MERRICK
Mid-forties, mutton-chop sideburns and arm-garters, publisher
and sole reporter of the Deadwood Pioneer, brought to his
feet as if charged by an electrical current, despite a torpid
liver and chronic lumbago, by Hickok's arrival; Merrick
immediately sits down again to consider the tactics of his
approach to the newsworthy man-killer and his companion now
taking their places at the bar --
ANGLE - HICKOK AND UTTER
joined by TOM NUTTALL, the owner, tending bar --
NUTTALL
Boys.
HICKOK
Whiskeys.
NUTTALL
Two whiskeys.
(pouring, gaze averted)
I'm respecting your privacy, not
saying your name, but I certainly
recognize you, and I'd like to buy
the round.
HICKOK
(indicates Utter)
Charlie Utter.
NUTTALL
Tom Nuttall Charlie.
UTTER
Tom.
As Hickok and Utter drink --
NEW ANGLE - TABLE
LOU VARNES, Johnny Burns, JACK MCCALL and CON STAPLETON have
been watching the activity as the bar --
JACK MCCALL
I'll say one thing before anyone
opens their mouth, and then I'll say
no more on the subject, and I'll be
through for the fucking evening. I
am not impressed. All right? Now you
apply that to whatever you think may
be my reference --
ANGLE - MERRICK
His plan conceived and courage mustered, making his way toward
Hickok and Utter --
RESUME - HICKOK, UTTER, AND NUTTALL
Nuttall notes Merrick's approach --
NUTTALL
(to Hickok)
A newspaper man's coming up -- I
don't know how you want to handle
the publicity angle.
Merrick's reached them --
MERRICK
A.W. Merrick Mr. Hickok, of the
Deadwood Pioneer.
Hickok's look is not uncivil; he indicates Utter --
HICKOK
We're drinking whiskey.
MERRICK
Certainly. Certainly.
Merrick addresses Nuttall, eagerly searching his pockets --
MERRICK
Whiskeys here Mr. Nuttall.
HICKOK
(indicates Utter)
Charlie Utter.
MERRICK
How do you do.
UTTER
How do you do. Thanks for the drink.
HICKOK
You write for a newspaper?
MERRICK
Infirmities permitting.
UTTER
What's wrong with you?
MERRICK
Don't get me started.
NUTTALL
(to Merrick)
Two bucks.
MERRICK
Of course.
(paying)
What's brought you to the camp Mr.
Hickok? -- may I tell my readers?
HICKOK
A warrant out on me in Cheyenne.
UTTER
(feigns amusement)
Get off that now Bill.
Merrick responds diplomatically --
MERRICK
I suppose for a man like you warrants
are a vocational hazard.
Hickok's self-irony is deadpan --
HICKOK
Calling me a professional vagrant?
UTTER
Bill.
MERRICK
(to Hickok)
The warrant was for vagrancy?
UTTER
He's kidding. You better not put
that in your paper. You ought to
know when someone's making a joke.
Nuttall's taken all this in --
NUTTALL
Anyways, in this camp warrants don't
count.
Hickok indicates the poker table --
HICKOK
If you run that game, can I buy fifty
in chips?
NUTTALL
I do and you can. Settle up after,
see how your luck runs.
Utter reacts with barely concealed dismay --
UTTER
You feel like playing now Bill, or
should we take in the rest of the
camp?
HICKOK
I feel like playing now.
Nuttall hands Hickok his chips --
NUTTALL
Draw and seven stud, dealer calls
the game.
HICKOK
Sounds fair. See you later Charlie.
UTTER
All right Bill.
Merrick watches Hickok head for the table --
MERRICK
What a grand surprise. I never thought
he's live long enough for me to meet
him.
Off a stoically disconsolate Utter --
CUT TO:
INT. THE GEM - SALOON - NIGHT
Swearengen, Driscoll, and Brom. They all seem to have made
friends --
DRISCOLL
(to Brom, re Swearengen)
I wound up thinking he bullshitted
me on the subject of you.
SWEARENGEN
I don't bullshit.
BROM
(to Driscoll)
I was indisposed last night.
Driscoll stares at Brom skeptically --
DRISCOLL
What were you?
SWEARENGEN
He wasn't feeling well Tim. But here
we all are today.
DRISCOLL
(to Brom, re Swearengen)
No because I wound up thinking he
was bullshitting me, and just now
I'm about to transact something, I
think "Wait, all you got in this
camp's your word, Al Swearengen
doesn't bullshit, I tell the other
mother-fucker wait back at my room
ten minutes, you know, just wait ten
minutes at the hotel and let me just
verify because Al isn't usually a
mother-fucker." And so forth.
By the end of which Driscoll seems totally incoherent. Brom
looks to Swearengen for help --
SWEARENGEN
(to Driscoll)
What you're saying, you'll entertain
an offer from Mr. Garret for your
claim.
DRISCOLL
I don't "entertain" anybody --
(to Brom)
-- don't expect anyone to fucking
entertain you.
BROM
I'd like to offer on Claim Nine above
Discovery.
DRISCOLL
I've had all the fucking entertainment
I need from this fucking place. You
think I give a fuck where you're
from? Where are you from anyway?
BROM
New York City.
DRISCOLL
You think I give a fuck?
SWEARENGEN
(to Brom, urgently)
What's your offer?
BROM
Fourteen thousand dollars for mineral
and riparian rights.
Driscoll stares at him, apparently ready to come to blows --
DRISCOLL
What the fuck did you just say to
me?
SWEARENGEN
Tim! Tim!
BROM
Fourteen thousand dollars for mineral
and water rights above and below
ground.
DRISCOLL
I'll knock you into fucking next
week -- I don't care how many suits
you're wearing.
BROM
I have the money -- Al's discounting
my letter of credit.
SWEARENGEN
Fourteen thousand dollars, Claim
Nine above Discovery -- yes or no
Tim?
Swearengen, gazing with what seems to be anxiety toward the
door, where E.B. Farnum can been seen returning, slams his
fist on the bar, looking back to Driscoll --
SWEARENGEN
Yes or no?!
DRISCOLL
All right. Fourteen thousand.
SWEARENGEN
(to Brom)
Spit in your hand.
BROM
What?
SWEARENGEN
Hurry up and spit in your hand.
Instead Brom stares mesmerized at the thick tobacco-brown
loogie descending from Driscoll's lips. The loogie lands and
pools in Driscoll's right hand. Brom's inaction apparently
prompts Driscoll to suspicion; he looks to Swearengen, eyes
narrowing --
DRISCOLL
(re Brom)
What's his fucking problem?
Brom snaps out of it --
BROM
Nothing.
-- quickly spits in his palm. Swearengen brings Brom's and
Driscoll's right hands together --
SWEARENGEN
Done and witnessed.
Farnum reaches them --
FARNUM
Am I too late?
DRISCOLL
You're too late Farnum.
(re Brom)
I just sold for fourteen thousand to
this guy.
FARNUM
(to Brom)
Will you take sixteen?
BROM
No. Thanks you, but no.
DRISCOLL
(to Swearengen, re
Farnum)
What a lying cunt. "Twelve and a
half thousand Mr. Driscoll, every
cent I can lay hands on and all the
claim's worth."
FARNUM
(ignoring Driscoll;
to Brom)
Sixteen thousand. That's two thousand
profit standing over a drink.
BROM
I believe events will prove Claim
Nine above Discovery was worth far
more than sixteen thousand Mr. Farnum.
Brom's optimism seems to arouse a new reservation in Driscoll
about his decision's wisdom, to make him reconsider his
options --
DRISCOLL
(to Swearengen, re
Brom)
'Course I haven't seen his fucking
money yet.
SWEARENGEN
I'm discounting his bank note --
He puts a sack of gold dust on the counter --
SWEARENGEN
That's ten thousand, I'll weigh four
out of the other sack right now.
BROM
Al's holding a full-faith letter of
credit for twenty-thousand dollars
drawn on the Bank of New York.
DRISCOLL
I'm only saying till money's passed
between us, the deal isn't done.
SWEARENGEN
The deal is done --
Swearengen pushes the sack toward Driscoll --
BROM
We spat in our hand Tim.
DRISCOLL
What the fuck do you know about it?
I'll knock you into next fucking
week.
(to Farnum)
Will you offer me sixteen thousand?
Farnum seems somewhat uncertain --
FARNUM
I suppose, if you're open to further
offers.
BROM
(to Driscoll)
Sixteen thousand five hundred.
Swearengen stares at Brom, incredulous --
SWEARENGEN
What the hell did you just do Brom? --
BROM
(to Driscoll)
Will you close at sixteen-five?
SWEARENGEN
(to Brom)
-- you just re-opened the fucking
bidding.
FARNUM
(to Driscoll)
Seventeen thousand.
BROM
(to Driscoll)
Seventeen thousand five hundred --
and I go no farther.
FARNUM
Eighteen.
BROM
Nineteen.
FARNUM
Nineteen thousand eight hundred,
that's every cent I can put together.
BROM
Twenty thousand.
FARNUM
Damnit! Damnit!
Driscoll looks like a shit-faced, elegantly self-satisfied
Cheshire cat --
DRISCOLL
Twenty once? -- twenty twice?
FARNUM
I can't!
BROM
(to Driscoll, re Farnum)
It's over, he's through...
Brom spits in his hand again optimistically --
BROM
Is it over?
DRISCOLL
All right. All right --
From sinus passage and lung Driscoll collects in his throat
a fulsome bolus of phlegm, emits the into his right palm --
DRISCOLL
-- twenty does it.
BROM
I got it Al.
Swearengen again clasps together the right hands of the two
principals --
SWEARENGEN
(to Brom)
Yes you did.
Behind Brom, Swearengen notes Trixie ambulating painfully in
search of a john. Her gaze meets his, though her eyes are so
swollen he has no confident sense of what she's feeling --
CUT TO:
EXT. A PIG PEN - NIGHT
The Chinaman feeds the Trick, upon whose mortal remains Doc
Cochran has completed his examination, to his pot-bellied
pig --
FADE OUT.
END ACT TWO
ACT THREE
FADE IN:
INT. GRAND CENTRAL HOTEL - THE GARRETS' ROOM - NIGHT
Brom Garret enters a hotel room whose Spartan appointment
has been embellished by his wife ALMA, thirty, beautiful,
married to Brom to salvage her own family's straitened
financial circumstances and come with him from New York
pursuing her own idea of adventure --
BROM
Spit in your hand Alma.
ALMA
Why?
BROM
Spit, I'm going to show you something.
She watches the ingenuous fool she's trying to love spit in
his own hand --
ALMA
Promise you'll tell my mother about
this.
-- spits in hers to humor him. He brings their hands together --
BROM
I've bought it. We own a gold claim.
This was how e sealed the deal.
ALMA
And then did everyone dry their hands?
He gives her his suit-coat handkerchief, continues eagerly --
BROM
Do you know who was bidding against
me? Farnum, who owns this hotel.
ALMA
And where was your Secret Agent?
BROM
Dan Dority -- he was tending bar. No
one realized Dan had helped me
reconnoiter the claim. Al Swearengen
who owns the saloon was intermediary,
he brokered the transaction. Driscoll,
the seller? -- legless with liquor.
You'll have a vivid entry for an
article then I've told you all the
details.
ALMA
I've already begun to imagine it.
He's at the window, looking out at the Deadwood night --
BROM
It was a near thing till the end --
I had to go all our twenty thousand
to turn Farnum away.
She smoothes his hair, watching him, convinced that, however
inconceivable his behavior, she prefers her situation to the
strictures of the life she'd left behind. And the laudanum
takes the edge off --
ALMA
Ah well.
BROM
I'll have to write the bank to renew
my credit.
(sour resignation)
Of course they'll contact Father.
ALMA
I'd expect that's inevitable.
He turns back to her --
BROM
Wild Bill Hickok's here. I'm sure
he's going to prospect too.
Off which --
CUT TO:
EXT. MAIN STREET - NIGHT
Inside the open-flapped sales tent, Bullock and Star secure
the fraction of their wares they didn't sell with the
assistance of a bearded middle-aged man we'll come to know
as H.W. SMITH. During which --
H.W. SMITH
My wife and children are in Louisville
Kentucky, I'm saving to bring them
out. Day I dig on the Foster Water
Ditch, nights I watch folks' goods
like I'm going to do for yours.
STAR
Schedule like that, Mr. Smith, it
sounds like you'll have them here
soon.
H.W. SMITH
Then Sabbaths I preach Christ
crucified and raised from the dead.
Neither Bullock nor Star is quite sure how to respond to
this. After a beat, as they continue to work --
BULLOCK
I'm from Etobicoke Ontario.
H.W. SMITH
So you were born in Canada.
BULLOCK
Come to Montana when I was seventeen.
That's when I met up with Mr. Star.
H.W. SMITH
Is that so.
STAR
I was born in Austria.
H.W. SMITH
Austria. Wonderful where people come
from.
STAR
Born in Austria, then I grew up in
Chillicothe Ohio.
H.W. SMITH
Then you and Mr. Bullock partnered
in Montana.
STAR
That's where we partnered up.
H.W. SMITH
The Lord's our final comfort, but
it's a solace having friends. I know
that from past experience.
They're finished. As they come outside the tent --
H.W. SMITH
You sold up a storm here tonight,
didn't you?
STAR
We did all right.
BULLOCK
We'll be a few hours Mr. Smith, we
want to look around the camp.
Bullock's noted the approach of an UNKEMPT MAN on a slow-
moving horse. Bullock's scrutiny prompts the man to check
his instinctive, furtive gaze at the contents of the tent --
MAN
I seen a terrible thing tonight.
BULLOCK
What did you see?
MAN
White people dead and scalped, man,
woman and children with their arms
and legs hacked off.
BULLOCK
Where? How many dead?
MAN
A whole family on the road to
Spearfish. My God. These heathen
bloodthirsty savages.
H.W. SMITH
How many was it died?
MAN
The whole family hacked and mutilated.
Parents and two children.
H.W. SMITH
The Metz family took the Spearfish
Road --
MAN
Then that was probably them.
H.W. SMITH
They had three children.
The man takes this in --
MAN
Were there three? It could've been
three. They were that hacked and
spread around.
Smith clasps his hands --
H.W. SMITH
Rest their souls.
Star clasps his hands as well --
STAR
Rest their souls.
Tardily, the man clasps his hands as well and closes his
eyes in perfunctory, unpersuasive piety. Star glances with
sidelong uneasiness at his partner, who's studying the man.
The man opens his eyes, instinctively looking toward Bullock --
BULLOCK
You probably need a drink.
The drink-idea sits well with the man, but not the prospective
company --
CUT TO:
INT. THE GEM - SWEARENGEN'S OFFICE - NIGHT
Swearengen and Driscoll. Driscoll hands the two bags of gold
to Swearengen, who examines the knot in the cinch of one of
the sack, his version of a seal --
DRISCOLL
Don't insult me Al -- I haven't put
a finger on either of those bags.
Which brings no change in Swearengen's process. As he examines
the knot on the second bag --
SWEARENGEN
How much do you want?
DRISCOLL
How much? We agreed on thirty percent.
Thirty percent of twenty would be
six.
SWEARENGEN
Uh-huh.
DRISCOLL
So I want six thousand.
SWEARENGEN
What's thirty percent of fourteen
thousand?
DRISCOLL
What the fuck Al.
SWEARENGEN
Who told you to take him to twenty?
DRISCOLL
I could feel he had more in him. It
was a spontaneous fucking feeling. I
knew there was more to get.
SWEARENGEN
And you thought six more would be
the jackpot. Take him from fourteen
to twenty.
DRISCOLL
Jesus Christ Al, if you had further
plans I wish you'd've said something
to me.
SWEARENGEN
Should I tell you when I plan to
shit tomorrow, or would that be none
of your fucking business.
DRISCOLL
Jesus Christ. If me taking him to
twenty fucked up some future plan of
yours, I apologize for my spontaneity.
Swearengen just stares at Driscoll --
DRISCOLL
So fourteen thousand -- thirty percent
of that's what? -- what is that,
forty-two hundred?
Swearengen doesn't answer --
DRISCOLL
Or what the fuck arrangement do you
suggest now?
SWEARENGEN
What do you suggest?
DRISCOLL
Oh Jesus fucking Christ. You know
you get in a mood like this, I'd as
soon not even discuss it. Let me
hold five hundred and we'll discuss
the rest of it some other fucking
time.
SWEARENGEN
Cash, or credit at the tables?
DRISCOLL
Fine, just give me five hundred at
the fucking tables then. Jesus Christ
almighty.
SWEARENGEN
Are we holding markers?
DRISCOLL
What the fuck do I know? Dority'll
know that better'n me. Go ahead and
credit it against the fucking markers
then, and let me hold twenty fucking
cash.
SWEARENGEN
Tell Dan to give you twenty.
DRISCOLL
And a piece of fucking pussy.
SWEARENGEN
Tell Dan, and tell him to come see
me.
Driscoll's up, walking out --
DRISCOLL
Goddamnit Al!
He's gone. Off Swearengen --
CUT TO:
INT. NUTTALL AND MANN'S - POKER TABLE - NIGHT
Hickok's seated beside Jack McCall. Con Stapleton and WILLIAM
R. MASSIE and Johnny Varnes at the table also. The others
having shown their hole cards, Jack McCall now turns his --
JACK MCCALL
You called my bluff Hickok, I was
trying to run one.
Then reacts with apparent surprise --
JACK MCCALL
Whoa, wait on Mary, my God -- I got
a third eight under there...
Varnes wants to abbreviate the moment --
VARNES
(to McCall)
Three eights wins -- your pot.
JACK MCCALL
-- I absolutely did not realize that.
VARNES
(to McCall)
Your chips.
Despite Varnes' prompting, McCall doesn't collect his chips
yet --
JACK MCCALL
(to Hickok)
Sitting here thinking I'm fucking
bluffing my third eight, I mistakenly
outdraw the greatest gunfighter in
the world.
As if such luck demands some gesture of gracious contrition,
McCall signals on of the girls --
JACK MCCALL
Full round, entire round, dealer and
players.
-- then begins collecting his chips --
HICKOK
Meaning the third eight.
McCall, apparently coming late to the understanding he's
being addresses, looks up from stacking --
JACK MCCALL
What?
HICKOK
Saying you outdrew me. You meant the
third eight.
McCall grins with provisional innocence --
JACK MCCALL
What else would I have meant?
HICKOK
Say it and then we'll play cards.
The look in McCall's eyes no longer matches his lingering
grin. A beat, then --
JACK MCCALL
The third eight's what I meant.
HICKOK
(to Varnes)
Deal.
VARNES
Antes up, same again.
The players toss in their antes. McCall fans his stacked
chips. The chips click --
JACK MCCALL
Jesus Christ, can we shake hands or
something? -- relieve the atmosphere?
I mean how stupid do you think I am?
HICKOK
I don't know, I just met you.
AT THE BAR
Utter and Nuttall. Utter's a little drunk --
UTTER
(re Hickok)
Comes to look for business opportunity
and he sits there losing at poker.
Nuttall fills Utter's glass --
NUTTALL
Is he having a bad run? -- I can't
see that far.
UTTER
You'd have to see back to Cheyenne.
He's lost his patience, stays in the
hands if he's holding cards or not.
(wipes his mouth)
How's your crowd here tonight anyway?
NUTTALL
All right.
UTTER
It's better'n all right and you know
it -- you see that damn much.
(finishes his drink)
Bill Hickok's an asset to any saloon,
and joint he frequents, you agree
with me on that or not?
Nuttall considers Utter --
NUTTALL
Have you got a say on that, 'far as
where he drinks and gambles?
UTTER
Suppose I did.
NUTTALL
Fifty a night if he'll frequent here
exclusive.
UTTER
Fifty -- what a sport you turn out
to be.
NUTTALL
Then you quote a figure and we'll
discuss it.
UTTER
Let's come to one understanding. Any
figure I came up with, part of that
you'd give him to gamble or piss
away however else he was going to do
it, and that's the only part he's
know about.
Nuttall takes this in --
NUTTALL
I'd work with you.
UTTER
The rest you'd give to me and I'd
hold it in trust for his future.
NUTTALL
That'd be your affair.
UTTER
Listen to me. That man's recently
married. He needs to put a stake
together. That's all I'd be in this
for. I own a going freight business
in Cheyenne.
NUTTALL
I'd work with you.
ANGLE - STAR, BULLOCK, AND THE MAN
entering, approaching the bar --
MAN
Nothing against you fellas, I'd as
soon do my drinking getting a piece
of ass.
BULLOCK
First you'll want people to know
about that family.
The Man stares at Bullock, unsure if he suspects him or not --
MAN
What harm is it me meeting my needs
before I circulate the news? Tonight's
a lost issue. No one's leaving camp
in darkness to see to some dead folk's
remains with heathen savages around.
BULLOCK
What if the third child's alive?
MAN
Listen Mister. It was a massacre,
and I'm the one that saw it. No one
was alive.
BULLOCK
Did you see the massacre or not?
MAN
I told you, I got there afterward.
BULLOCK
So by then the child could've got
away from where you saw those other
bodies, or the child could've been
hiding and so afraid of who you might
be it didn't call out.
MAN
Listen to me. I'm not going out there
tonight, so mind your own goddamn
business.
His voice has gotten louder. Star, against his pragmatic
impulse to avoid involvement, raises his voice, so it's
impossible for those nearby not to hear --
STAR
You're saying a family's massacred
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?
Which brings Utter into the conversation --
UTTER
(to the man)
What's this about a massacre?
MAN
Ah for Christ's sake.
STAR
(re man)
He says he saw the bodies.
MAN
Goddamnit I'm not going out there
again tonight after I just made camp
with my scalp by sheer dumb fucking
luck.
Hickok's joined them, addresses the man --
HICKOK
Ride out and show us the place. I'll
guarantee your scalp.
Another man, JIMMY IRON, heads for The Gem to pass on what
he's heard --
HICKOK
(to Bullock)
Are you riding?
BULLOCK
(nods, indicates Star)
Yeah, we'll ride.
UTTER
(to Nuttall)
More to be said.
Merrick's joined them --
MERRICK
(to Hickok)
May I ride? I'd be honored to ride,
infirmities permitting.
Bullock looks to the Man with a disarming show of friendliness --
BULLOCK
Here we go.
Off which --
CUT TO:
INT. THE GEM - SWEARENGEN'S OFFICE - NIGHT
Dority enters. Swearengen's behind his desk --
SWEARENGEN
What'd you give Driscoll?
DORITY
Twenty bucks and a free poke with
Wanda.
SWEARENGEN
Half-smart Mick that he is.
DORITY
Tim fucked up with the Dude, huh?
SWEARENGEN
Gets the Dude's case-money with the
Dude only out here three days. How's
the Dude ask his people back home
for more? They're liable to send the
Pinkertons.
DORITY
So shut the Dude down?
SWEARENGEN
(nods)
You being his secret best friend,
he'll want you out prospecting in
the morning beside him.
(beat)
That claim needs to pinch out.
DORITY
(grins)
He don't have much stamina, a few
days ought to do it.
SWEARENGEN
And Tim Driscoll needs to be seen
to.
Dority studies Swearengen --
DORITY
No kidding Al?
SWEARENGEN
No kidding.
DORITY
Not that nobody asked, I'd look to
Trixie for danger before I'd look to
Tim.
Swearengen stares at him --
SWEARENGEN
No kidding.
Dority looks away. Burns enters with Jimmy Iron --
BURNS
(timidly)
Jimmy says the Sioux massacred a
family on the Spearfish Road.
Swearengen looks at Iron --
JIMMY
A hand come into Nuttall's Number
Ten telling the story Mr. Swearengen.
SWEARENGEN
Who was he?
JIMMY
I never seen him before.
SWEARENGEN
Can you get him over here? Is he
still in Nuttall's?
Jimmy shakes his head no --
JIMMY
They rode back to where it happened,
Hickok and some others rode back out
with him.
Swearengen considers this --
SWEARENGEN
Did he look happy to go?
Swearengen's question surprises Jimmy --
JIMMY
He didn't look that happy.
SWEARENGEN
How many people downstairs did you
tell about this?
JIMMY
A few.
SWEARENGEN
A few?
Swearengen punches Burns in the face, knocking him down --
SWEARENGEN
You let him tell a few people
downstairs before you bring this to
me?
BURNS
Al, I brought him as soon as I heard.
SWEARENGEN
How many people you think the people
he talked to have talked to by now?
I guarantee at this minute my whole
fucking action downstairs is fucked
up, and nobody's drinking and nobody's
gambling and nobody's chasing tail.
I've got to deal with that.
Swearengen, about to leave, takes stock --
SWEARENGEN
(to Iron)
You want ten dollars or a ball of
dope?
JIMMY
Dope please, Mr. Swearengen.
He looks to Dority, indicates Jimmy Iron --
SWEARENGEN
Give him a ball of dope.
-- now kicks the prostate Burns with less than full force --
SWEARENGEN
Stand the fuck up an go to work.
Swearengen's gone. Dority signals Iron forward --
DORITY
Come on, I'll take care of you.
Dority look to Burns, who's remained on the floor out of
residual fear and hurt feelings --
DORITY
He's got a lot on his mind Johnny.
Dority and Jimmy Iron leave. Off Burns, whose lower lip
protrudes and trembles like a boy after his Pa's given him a
licking --
FADE OUT.
END ACT THREE
ACT FOUR
FADE IN:
INT. LIVERY STABLE - NIGHT
As Bullock, Utter, Star, Hickok, The Man, and Merrick adjust
their as saddles and mount up -- the newspaperman glad of
the chance to opine before a captive celebrity listener --
MERRICK
These depredations are the Indians'
death-throes Mr. Hickok. History has
overtaken the treaty which gave them
this land. The gold we've found here
has overtaken it. I believe within a
year Congress will rescind the Ft.
Laramie Treaty, Deadwood and these
Hills will be annexed to the Dakota
Territory, and we who have pursued
our destinies outside law or statute
will be restored to the bosom of the
nation.
Hickok looks to Bullock --
HICKOK
Does "bosom" mean "tit?"
BULLOCK
Same thing.
Hickok pulls himself into the saddle, walks his mount near
Bullock --
BULLOCK
You were a marshal in Kansas?
Hickok nods --
HICKOK
You?
BULLOCK
Montana.
HICKOK
Come to your senses now?
BULLOCK
Yes Sir.
Something in his disclaimer works on Bullock, who indicates
the unnamed Man clinching up a fresh mount across the way --
BULLOCK
His story on this don't hold water.
HICKOK
No.
They ride out. Off which --
CUT TO:
EXT. MAIN STREET - DEADWOOD - NIGHT
The rescue party turns onto the muddy thoroughfare -- heading
for the spearfish Road --
POV THROUGH GEM THEATER WINDOW - NIGHT
As the rescue party passes by --
AT THE GEM WINDOW - NIGHT
Johnny Burns, watching the horsemen, then turns as he hears
Swearengen's voice behind --
SWEARENGEN
I know word's circulating the Indian's
killed a family on the Spearfish
Road.
INT. THE GEM - SALOON - NIGHT
Swearengen's come among his patrons --
SWEARENGEN
... And it's not for me to tell anyone
in this camp what to do, much as I
don't want more people getting their
throats cut or their scalps lifted
or any other godless thing these
godless bloodthirsty heathens do, or
if someone wants to ride out in
darkest night. But I will tell you
this. I would use tonight to get
myself organized, and ride out in
the morning clearheaded. And starting
tomorrow morning, I will offer a
personal fifty-dollar bounty for
every decapitated head of as many of
these godless heathen cocksuckers as
anyone can bring in tomorrow, with
no upper limit. And that's all I say
on that subject, except the next
round is on The House, and God rest
the souls of that family. And pussy's
half-price the next fifteen minutes.
His listeners receive Swearengen's arguments volubly. In the
hub-bub, Jewel surreptitiously delivers a PISTOL to Trixie,
while Burns comes to Swearengen's side --
BURNS
(low)
Good talk Al.
Swearengen receives the compliment graciously --
SWEARENGEN
I'll tell you the truth, the more I
think about it, for murdering people
on the road to Spearfish, my money's
on Persimmon Bill.
BURNS
Making it look like the Indians.
SWEARENGEN
That is his specialty.
Off which --
CUT TO:
INT. HOTEL CORRIDOR - SECOND FLOOR - DAWN
Dority approaches Tim Driscoll's room, a Bowie knife between
his teeth. B.g., we see Farnum at the head of the stairs.
Farnum begins his descent as Dority uses a pass key to enter
Driscoll's room --
INT. DRISCOLL'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Dority enters. Driscoll sits up in bed --
DRISCOLL
What is it?
Dority takes the knife from between his teeth --
DORITY
Hush Tim.
He's on him --
CUT TO:
INT. THE GEM - SALOON - NIGHT
Ellsworth's with Trixie. She doesn't realize he's seen the
Derringer secreted between her breasts --
ELLSWORTH
I don't intrude on the affairs of
others. It's problem enough keeping
my own life straight. If something's
not my affair I don't pretend it is.
Trixie looks away --
ELLSWORTH
Contrariwise, if you feel like talking
I'll pay a dollar a minute to hear
you. Get anything off your chest you
feel like.
She doesn't answer. Ellsworth drinks --
ELLSWORTH
And fuck us all anyway for the limber-
dicked cocksuckers we are.
CALAMITY JANE (O.S.)
Peter-sucking for drinks, even up!
ANGLE - JANE
entering the saloon from the street, shit-faced --
SWEARENGEN AND DORITY
Reacting -- Dority's been in quiet conversation with
Swearengen, giving him the news --
DORITY
That's the sewer-mouth that follows
Hickok around.
SWEARENGEN
She's not sucking dicks for drinks
in here.
Across the way -- Jane's been talking to a couple of drunken
miners -- she turns to the entire barroom --
CALAMITY JANE
(shouts)
Is it true? Indians killing white
people? Why are you standing here?
A MAN
We'll ride out tomorrow in daylight.
CALAMITY JANE
Really? Tomorrow? What's your fucking
rush?
(collects herself)
I'm going now. I know the road to
Spearfish. And I don't drink where
I'm the only fucking one with balls.
She's gone --
CUT TO:
EXT. A CLEARING OFF THE SPEARFISH ROAD - NIGHT
Coming through the deep woods, the riders show their horses
as they arrive at the site of the killings. The family's
wagon is overturned beside the road.
Trunks have been broken open and rummaged -- clothing, pans,
and various baking utensils are strewn about.
The riders dismount, proceed into the meadow, except for The
Man, who remains by the road with the horses.
The bodies are a hundred feet in. Wolves tear at the remains,
agitated and desperate as the men approach with their torches.
To one side, at the hollow of a fallen, long-decayed tree, a
renegade wolf paws and growls. Bullock brandishes his torch,
drives off the wolf. He goes to his knees, inside the hollow
sees the lower left leg of a child. The leg is bloody,
lacerated by the wolf's clawings. Bullock suffers himself to
pull at the bloody leg, draws out a child, THE GIRL whose
eyes met Jane's as her family left the camp. She's lost half
her blood, is beyond speech or terror. Bullock takes her in
his arms. Off which --
CUT TO:
EXT. MAIN STREET - DEADWOOD - DAWN
As first light breaks across the now eerily quiet roadway --
INT. GRAND CENTRAL HOTEL - GARRETS' ROOM - DAWN
He's dressing to go out to Claim Number Nine, now The Garret
Claim. Everything he puts on is new. Looks at his wife
sleeping. Turns away, readying to leave. She's not asleep,
opens her eyes, watching him --
CUT TO:
INT. THE GEM - DAWN
The crowd beginning to thin. Swearengen climbing the stairs
to the second floor. At the landing looking down, seeing
Trixie and Ellsworth. Trixie looking up, seeing Swearengen --
CUT TO:
EXT. THE GRAND CENTRAL HOTEL - DAWN
Brom comes outside --
INT. GRAND CENTRAL HOTEL - DAWN
Alma squeezes a draught of laudanum from a dropper into a
glass of water, drinks her first dose of the day, then goes
to the window, peering out, careful not to be observed --
ALMA'S POV - THE STREET
As her husband, relieved that his advisor has appeared, moves
to join the approaching Dan Dority --
CUT TO:
EXT. THE ROAD BACK FROM SPEARFISH - DAWN
The Riders, returning, encounter Jane --
HICKOK
Miss Jane.
CALAMITY JANE
I'd've been with you Bill, but I
didn't get word about all this till
a couple hours after you headed out.
HICKOK
It's all right. Nothing more could've
been done.
He rides on -- revealing Bullock holding the child. Bullock
gives Jane the girl to hold.
She wheels her horse, treasuring the child, rides back with
them toward the camp. FIND Bullock and Star, careful to keep
the unnamed Man in sight --
BULLOCK
Did that look like Indians to you?
STAR
Seth, when this girl's in a Doctor's
care, we have done our duty.
BULLOCK
(re the Man)
His story's wrong.
STAR
A story don't have to be right to be
none of my business.
BULLOCK
Your father tell you that?
STAR
(resigned)
In Vienna.
ANGLE - HICKOK AND UTTER
riding beside each other, taking in the unnamed Man --
UTTER
Keeps distance from the little one,
don't he Bill?
Hickok doesn't answer --
CUT TO:
EXT. DEADWOOD STREET - MORNING
Bullock and Merrick have dismounted in front of Doc Cochran's
office, Merrick calling to Cochran as they hurry toward his
door.
Behind them the others rein their horses in as Cochran, coming
outside, sees the bloody child in Jane's arms and moves toward
her.
Jane, handing the child down -- as Cochran starts inside --
CALAMITY JANE
Easy goddamnit --
Draws her gun on Cochran --
CALAMITY JANE
You just hold on till I'm with you.
We all got an interest here.
She dismounts. Merrick joins her at Bullock's nod, as Utter
does at Hickok's. As now finally does Star with visible
reluctance so that Bullock and Hickok are alone with the
Man, who's stayed on his horse --
MAN
I guess I done my duty, and I was
glad enough to help.
As Cochran and the child disappear with the others into his
office --
BULLOCK
Stick around and see if she lives.
MAN
No, I was glad enough to do my duty.
That little one'll be in my prayers.
BULLOCK
Get off your horse.
MAN
What? Who are you to tell me what to
do? This here's a free camp -- no
one more law'n anyone else.
BULLOCK
Law or no, if need be I'll tie you
to a tree till we see if that little
girl lives and what she has to say
about you.
MAN
Listen here! I'm an innocent man. It
was Indians, goddamnit!
BULLOCK
Too much ransacking and too many
good left behind. Someone was after
money.
MAN
Goddamnit, if I had to do with that
happened why would I come to this
camp?
HICKOK
Maybe when it got thick out there
you ran. Maybe the others was going
to ground tonight but you had to
have pussy or get to a faro layout.
I've felt that way sometimes after a
kill.
BULLOCK
Get down off your horse or face the
consequences.
The Man spurs his horse to escape, but it wheels and rears.
Facing Hickok, he screams, gets his pistol a few inches out
of its holster before Hickok's bullet hits his left eye. He
loses all coordination, falls dead from the horse. A quick
draw himself, Bullock has cleared his holster too, but not
yet had time to fire. He stares at Hickok, incredulous --
HICKOK
Was that you or me, Montana?
BULLOCK
That was you.
As the others hurry from inside --
CUT TO:
INT. THE GEM - SWEARENGEN'S BEDROOM - DAWN
It adjoins his office but has a separate door. He lies on
his bed, waiting. At the knock he collects his pistol, holds
it under the covers --
SWEARENGEN
Yeah.
Trixie opens the door. She comes toward him. At the bedside,
takes the Derringer from between her breasts, places it on
the table. Gets into the bed beside Swearengen, lays her
head on his shoulder. Off Swearengen, unsurprised, utterly
alone --
FADE OUT.