Deadwood s01e12 Episode Script

Sold Under Sin

My darling wife I have $68 put by Our belly cleaveth to the earth.
I hope to be home soon, Amanda.
I'll help with the cider pressing.
Our soul is bowed down to the dust.
Tell Johnny to brew some coffee, open some peaches.
- Who are they? Is that the magistrate? - Some with soldier saddles.
- Al knew they was comin'.
- Well, he knew somethin' was comin'.
I'd about decided he just couldn't sleep without Trixie.
General Crook bears victory's garland for having routed the Miniconjou at Slim Buttes.
- Well done, General.
- The first meeting out of recompense for the massacre at the Little Big Horn.
Am I right in believing that I saw you last year in the Hills? Amongst them you gave the boot to? You said you'd see us back once the treaty got amended.
The day the general spoke of fast approaches.
Even now he's called to Camp Robinson I'm waitin' for Al to collect Clagett by the scruff of the neck.
He and his men would require some resupply and respite.
- Stopped at the right fuckin' place.
- Respite, Mr.
Swearengen.
Short of the men becoming dissolute or drawn to desertion.
Unsaddled, allowed to gamble, roll in the dust, hmm? But not so they balk at reharness.
I'll make your feelings known to the other operators.
I and my fellow officers would be grateful for the use of the bathhouse.
Mr.
Burns here will steer you.
For those that avenged Custer, if it ain't too dissolute, the camp will want a parade.
A parade is all right.
Forego your bath a moment, Magistrate, unless you want a girl to sponge you while we converse? So did young Adams deliver my message? I haven't seen young Adams.
- No? - I haven't been to Yankton.
I've been representing the territory in the treaty negotiations.
Well, as to bribing you further for help with that warrant against me beyond the $5,000 you've already pocketed, the gist was "Fuck yourself.
" - Do you now reconsider? - No, Magistrate, I do not.
Not if you've seen Adams or if you haven't seen Adams.
Well, that would be imprudent, Al.
A failure to properly value your freedom in the promising days ahead.
Maybe you don't value keeping your fucking guts inside your belly enough.
- Those are the days behind us.
- No, those are the days to my fucking left.
I didn't generate the warrant.
My disappearance won't quash it.
You can't murder an order or the telegraph that transmitted it or those that are content to put food on the table simply by being its instruments.
It can't be done.
Get the fuck out of my joint.
Although this may appear to be a fortuitous accident you're not in this, Johnny Burns I would be less than honest if I did not admit that I was in fact lying in wait, in ambush, if you will.
- Sir, make your first effort count.
- Seconds away.
Now, General your most victorious smile.
All right.
Stern and resolute! This bloated tick Clagett, feedin' on the neck of the fucking military.
I guess he bought his bagman back.
Who I commissioned to kill him.
He proclaims their paths never crossed.
I guess he would.
Can you imagine, Al, that as mayor, I might like to learn the cavalry's in camp other than by coming upon them posing for photographs in the goddamn thoroughfare?! Cavalry's in camp, E.
B.
- At whose behest? - The people, as always.
- To what purpose? - A parade's in the offing.
They've had a victory over the dirt worshippers.
Will you lead the hosannas? Well, I suppose that's part of my mandate.
Mightn't I also coordinate satisfaction of the force's logistical needs? I hope you charge something for your service.
Cavalry in camp, Doc.
May I number you in the reception committee? Fuck the cavalry and the committee that receives 'em! Hi, Doc.
The fuckin' magistrate don't go back to Yankton alive.
Trixie? You seen Jewel around anywheres? Common room.
Sweepin'.
Hey, Doc? What you got in your tote sack? Lettuce.
Set your broom to one side and sit down.
I said put your broom aside.
You have to remove it from my clutches.
Okay.
All right.
I make this stipulation.
You develop any stiffness or numbness, you report these.
You do not conceal these symptoms in order to sustain your hopes for the miraculous benefits of your fucking boot.
That's my fuckin' boot? You lose a leg, your other conditions will prevent you from moving around at all, and I will not have you lose the mobility that you do have for the sake of a few weeks' illusion.
I'll report stiffness or numbness.
All right.
And pain or discomfort! Don't you be the doctor! You report the symptoms, I will determine their significance! Don't yell, Doc! I am yelling because I want to make sure you goddamn understand me! I do.
I understand.
All right.
Here's your goddamn boot.
Help me put it on.
Walk in unannounced is a good way to get yourself killed, Doc.
Especially as the cavalry has us besieged.
I'm here about the minister.
He's over at my place, past my art if I had any.
He's damn near blind and mostly paralyzed.
Past controlling his functions.
Well, you're preaching to the fucking converted.
I mean I would've seen to him, but I've been fucking busy.
Well, he doesn't want to be seen to like that.
What the fuck are we talking about? A man being cared for, and made comfortable till he expires.
The girls you put to the task, deduct your time from my pay.
I get the bag of shit.
You get to care for a human being in his last extremity.
A human being in his last extremity is a bag of shit.
Oh, fuck you, Al! I'll send someone over to pick him up.
I made Jewel a brace and a boot.
Does it allay the fucking noise she makes when she drags her leg about? If the noise bothers you so much, put cotton in your ears.
Get the fuck out of here, Doc, huh? I'm working on my deployments and flanking maneuvers.
How about that other one? Trixie's fine.
Johnny! Take the sled to Doc Cochran's.
Collect the fucking minister and install him in the whore's quarters.
Tell that other one to make up the fucking room.
Trixie? These rags were fine broadcloth shirts before I brung 'em to launder.
Huh? Six six bits No, no.
You told me Looks to me like a deteriorating situation, Sheriff.
Yup.
Too frequent to be borne.
Downright intolerable.
Six bits a goddamn piece, you hear me? What the fuck you talking about? Look at this goddamn shit.
What is that? I hope that slant-eyed cocksucker's look ain't as arrogant close up as it appears from this distance! Smells like shit.
You celestials are trying to wash our shirts in goddamn feces! Mining gold, Alma, is a different business from panning it in a stream.
The machinery involved, the wages, it demands capital.
If, as seems clear, you've determined to stay, I could see after your requirements in New York, secure your holdings' credit as its eastern representative.
Would that please you? L I don't know, Daddy.
- I'm not sure it would.
- Why not? I'm not sure I can explain beyond saying the prospect frightens me.
Must the pretense of my behavior generating from paternal concern be abandoned so quickly? If you acknowledge what else it generates from, I'll not abandon the idea at all.
From my debts, of course.
You said they'd been entirely satisfied.
They had, entirely.
Those debts.
These are debts you hadn't admitted? No, these are debts I incurred subsequently.
We might call them the children of the debts that I admitted to.
Generating from the interest on the previous debts? Alma watching you struggle with what is beneath your spirit to understand is always painful for me.
After you got me out of debt, I got myself back in.
Having volunteered a promise you had wept and volunteered? Conceive my own disappointment.
Oh, Daddy.
Has scale, doesn't it? Certainly, there's something to that.
Who would give you that much credit? My daughter becoming a Garret raised me in the lender's estimation.
I could borrow that much against the claim? In an instant and considerably more.
All right, Daddy.
But in consideration, you will remove yourself from further connection to the venture.
I'll have that in writing before I help you.
No, darling.
You'll help me and you'll have no such thing.
Get away from her.
Get away from her! The meal's on me, young lady.
Why, thank you, sir.
My friend Jane repaid some money I thought never to see, plus $2 some-odd for Mrs.
Garret to give that girl.
Fines she levied against herself for saying "fuck" or the like.
Something amiss, Mrs.
Garret? Has the child took ill? I'll give her the money later.
Seth.
What is it, Mrs.
Garret? Seth, I've got to go do that thing.
What is it? Whatever impression my father has made on you, please believe me, Mr.
Bullock, who has known him longer, that he is here in his own interests and against mine and this child's.
I do.
And I need your help.
I'm asking for your help.
You have it.
Having confessed to the miserable outcome of my commemorative effort, I'll throw myself on General Crook's mercy and ask for a second opportunity.
I'll be surprised if he doesn't give it to you.
They love to have their pictures taken.
- What happened? - Get away from me, Sol.
- What is it? - Get away.
- Should I stay with her at the store? - Please.
Antemeridian constitutional, Mr.
Russell, or will we roll the bones again? It must cost you sleep the guests you drive off, the chances of thieving and bilking you lose, needing to rub against your betters.
You and I are gonna talk.
You don't account for my preferences, Mr.
Bullock? I will beat you here in the street.
First-rate thinking.
My daughter's agent beats her father in the street.
How better to condemn Alma to deepened suspicion as to her role in her husband's violent death and widen suspicion to include yourself? Shoot craps, Mr.
Bullock? I know what's in the till.
Were you bullied, Mr.
Bullock, when young and incapable? Now you see wrongs everywhere and bullying you feel called to remedy? - 10, lay due.
- New shooter coming out.
The bully who oppressed your youth isn't at the table with us.
- Perhaps he's long dead.
- Eight.
If you will view the present with more clarity, perhaps you'd recognize that I'm not victimizing my daughter, but merely asking for a small portion of the ample proceeds - from her veins.
- Seven out.
Alma is hurt only in your particular view of things.
And while I'll sign no guarantee not to return, or against any future claim on her compassion, realize I do hate it here.
And if you inhale and expel pure righteousness, my olfactories are keen to the smell of shit.
Six, the point is six.
Having heard all that, and knowing, as you must, the injudiciousness of making an enemy of a man who could testify truthfully that five minutes before her marriage, he heard his daughter wish her prospective husband dead, and who won't shrink from lying as to what she admitted to him on his arrival in this cesspool as to her complicity in her husband's murder I suppose you'd best take your swing.
Gentlemen, watch the felt.
Seth.
Seth! Seth! All right.
Leave this camp, and draw a map for anyone who wants to believe your fucking lies.
Anyone wants to put your daughter or her holdings in jeopardy, you show 'em how to get here.
And you tell 'em I'll be waiting.
Please see to my father.
Now, gentlemen, stay back! This ain't no single-shot derringer.
He tried to blind me with that lye, Sheriff, for showing what he done to my shirts.
- Fuck that monkey noise! - All right, enough! Till I can sort out all the full particulars here.
You may be a big shot in this alley, but you are less than a nigger to me! Quiet! Or you'll be subject to reprimand.
Take jurisdiction on this corpse! Back off, old man.
The Sioux and the Cheyenne having burned the prairie to deny us fodder for our mounts, our provisions limited to what we could carry, we turned for the Black Hills when the rains began.
Where my bay mare Sheraton foundered, and got shot.
That march through mud was a trial sent by God, and harsh necessity required of us much suffering and great sacrifice.
Ate our fucking horses! Continuing south, we proved our worth against the Indian.
We came upon a village at Slim Buttes, at once attacked from all four sides.
Their resistance was overcome.
There were no prisoners.
Paid 'em out man, woman and child for me having to eat my mare.
And after the village was taken, we found the gloves of Captain Keogh, last seen on his person when he rode into battle with the valiant Custer.
Captain.
This is the guidon of the 7th Cavalry captured by the Sioux at the Little Big Horn.
And now reclaimed by white men! Chief American Horse and his village are gone, driven off.
From this day forward - Where's the cunt? any Sioux who will not make peace - at Camp Robinson - Glad you witnessed that transaction amongst the celestials.
You know, they'll bow and scrape till six of 'em get together, then no fucking white man's safe.
to the progress of the United States of which I am certain this camp will soon be a part.
Huzzah! Huzzah! Next murder you do on an errand, gotta take off the fucking badge.
Not certain I take your inference.
And if I do, I'm not sure I like it.
Leave it there, you bought-out son of a bitch.
Captain Bubb is the quartermaster and commissary officer.
- Should he deal with you? - Exclusively.
- E.
B.
Farnum - That's Captain Bubb.
Mayor.
And as to procurement of everything listed, your civilian counterpart.
General Crook, I believe I have you verbatim, but if you'd grant me - a moment to confirm? - Oh my God.
Um, "The Sioux and Cheyenne will soon be a part.
" You'll find this hotel the least of all evils.
Does it belong to that mayor? Yes, but I can check you in.
General, Cyrus Tolliver.
Small gesture of gratitude, I'd like you to quarter at my place.
Brothel.
Excuse me.
Well, that portion to my use would have to be closed to other purposes.
Well, that'd make it a large gesture, but, uh, we'll work something out.
- Send my trunk, Captain Bubb.
- Yes, sir.
This is a tremendous number of provisions, Captain.
But, of course, you're buying for full-grown men.
I won't do a two on one.
Take turns like white men.
I don't care if the whole U.
S.
Cavalry walks in here, you don't want to pour another drink.
You just want to listen to me 'cause if the man doesn't die whose face I just broke, he's gonna go to New York City and tell Brom Garret's people it breaks his heart to say so, but his daughter had their son murdered.
He'll tell 'em, knowing how he does, they won't want their son's rightful property in the hands of the woman who killed him.
He'll swear to what he heard from her own lips.
And those society people in New York City, who live with their heads up their asses anyway, will believe him.
And whoever they send out here may take up to 15 minutes before they decide that you were involved in the transaction first to last.
It must have been you and your boss she hired to push her idiot husband off the cliff.
Of course, they'll be wrong about Mrs.
Garret, but they'll be right as rain about you two cocksuckers.
You tell him all that upstairs.
If he don't die.
If he don't die.
I don't think I killed him.
Just so I understand you, if he don't die, you're saying the man's luck don't have to hold out.
Now, that's the message you want me to take upstairs.
I don't swim in that shit.
You ought to pin that on your chest.
You're hypocrite enough to wear it.
You just tell him.
When did you start thinking every wrong had a remedy, Wu? Did you come to camp for justice or to make your fucking way?! I'm sensing you've done things today you wish you could amend, Seth.
What kind of a man have I become, Sol? I don't know.
The day ain't fucking over.
Under what provocation was that clown-hatted card-sharp when he slaughtered the Chink? I was head down, Al, towing that minister like a canal mule.
Well, in the aftermath, when you raised your fucking head, did Stapleton act like a fucking frightened man? More strutting like a dunghill rooster.
Put-up fucking job.
That fucknut Tolliver's moving on Chinatown.
That devious fucknut.
As far as this matter Bullock commended to our attention? Well, it's the exact type murder you preach, Al.
Head off trouble down the road.
You head off trouble down the road once you've dealt with the trouble on it.
The trouble on the road, Dan, is Al's enemy Magistrate Clagett's cozy-seeming connection to the military.
If genuine, Al must decide ought he seek some alliance with Clagett, however temporary or dissembled? At least until you're paid for the army's order.
They're all in the same fucking place.
Tolliver, the widow's father, Clagett I can take care of all of 'em in one fell swoop.
What about half of the cavalry while your talons are out, huh? I'll tell you, by God, you cut that fucking general's throat, you'll you'll hurry the pace of desertion.
Did I say something funny? That cocksucker Clagett's bagman.
Moderation in all things.
Thank you, thank you, sir.
- Much obliged.
- Good luck.
With all respect to the Magistrate Clagett, General, eager as we are to get taken into the territory, those wheels grind slow, while every day in this camp and environs tens of thousands of dollars in gold get cleaned up, and put into circulation.
It's an environment to test the moral mettle if we was all members of some religious organization.
Which we ain't.
Are we sure we can't tempt you? I'm sure.
A small fraction of your detachment left behind, a dozen or 18 men, say, would keep the criminal element in check.
Cash compensation, unrecorded.
To defend against threats from without, I suggest the camp create a militia.
For civil disorders and property disagreements, have you hired a sheriff? Yeah, we got one.
Did you say to me earlier, Mr.
Tolliver, that you imagined that the chief use of the military presence was to buttress the sheriff's authority? Such indirection for such a tawdry purpose.
$50,000 in gold.
I want those soldiers, General.
Is that direct enough? May I speak? Mr.
Bullock.
I was a marshal in Montana.
My father served in the British Royal Army, and my brother Robert was a cavalryman killed fighting the Comancheros in Texas.
Why are you here, Mr.
Bullock? A man named Otis Russell is laid up in this establishment.
- He needs protection.
- Protection from whom? Several in this camp.
I beat him badly.
Others have reason to wish him dead, and the camp sheriff can be bought off for half a can of bacon grease.
Well, while we're here, I will hold Mr.
Russell under protection as a gesture to your brother's sacrifice.
Thank you, sir.
I would add in a camp where the sheriff can be bought for bacon grease, a man, a former marshal who understands the danger of his own temperament, might consider serving his fellows.
May I have a word, General? I'm through.
Thank you.
We all have bloody thoughts.
Captain Bubb? That gopher-faced merchant's agent, he's trying for our eye-teeth, General.
I'd rather we provision with the fucking Sioux.
I have three men under guard for burying their uniforms and five for bartering their weapons.
Bartering them for what? Women, credit at the tables and prospecting tools.
God damn it.
Form up the men.
We'll bivouac tonight outside of camp.
At daylight, we head for Camp Robinson.
Please allow me to seek remedy in the manner of resupply, General.
We move for Camp Robinson, Magistrate, with or without your company.
I quite understand.
$50,000.
If I were sheriff, I'd have you hanged.
I brought these.
Are these my father's? Collected off the Bella Union floor.
Maybe model replacements after, maybe just remind him not to run his mouth.
Miss Stubbs, will you please come in? Oh, all right.
Joanie! Hi, sweetheart.
He will live, though, that seems clear? Seems he will.
Mr.
Bullock was my agent in this.
On our way from Syracuse to Indiana so my daddy could try farming, my mama got cholera and died.
He didn't make any better a farmer than millinery clerk, but he had a way enough with words to get me believing that my mama in heaven wanted me to see to his needs.
And then to add to the egg money by seeing to the men he brought, and she wanted me talking my sisters into seeing to his needs, and then to the men, till he sold me to Cy Tolliver.
If he was here, I'd wish a beating mornings and evenings on my daddy like your pa took today.
Oh.
Evening.
Good evening, Mr.
Bullock.
Are you hungry, honey? Why don't we go down to that little restaurant and have some dinner? Um, uh Sophia.
You go with Miss Stubbs for dinner, okay? Would you like to sit down, Mr.
Bullock? Until your father's well enough to travel, I've asked General Crook to see to his safety.
Thank you.
If he were to leave once he's well and return to act against your interests, we'll deal with that then.
I stand before you a married man.
Yes.
To your brother's widow, after he was killed.
You took their five-year-old boy as your own son.
Married.
Yes.
If you'd if you would be more comfortable behind the screen Wouldn't that defeat our purpose? Young Adams.
No satchel? No case? Don't tell me you shrunk that magistrate's head, so you can carry it around in your coat.
And that warrant against me now quashed, is peeking out of his tiny mouth? I didn't get the chance to kill him.
He'd left Yankton by the time I got there, and I figured I'd catch him here.
Maybe you're here to implement his fucking intentions against me I guess you chew at it awhile, you could work out how it could be that way.
Having given me time as he has to escape my angry mood, if I continue to ignore his fucking extortions.
Is that how you left it with him? He's coming back here to see you? Give you time to make up which side you're on, Adams.
If the cocksucker would ever show up.
For that which I do, I allow not for what I would that I do not, for Get out.
But what I hate, that, too, l Now, if I would do what I would not, it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me.
Johnny.
Shut the door.
If I was a more adaptable primate or one of your regular petitioners, I suspect I wouldn't feel this pain.
I guess l I'd have a wad of cartilage covering the patella, protecting me from this this discomfort.
Jesus Christ.
Jesus Christ, just please, God, take that minister.
What conceivable godly use is his protracted suffering to you? What conceivable godly use? What conceivable godly use was the screaming of all those men? Did you did you need to hear their death agonies to know your-your your omnipotence? "Mama!" "Mother, find my arm!" "Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" "They they shot my leg off!" "It hurts so bad.
It hurts so bad.
" Admitting my understanding's imperfection, trusting that You have a purpose, praying that You consider it served, I beg You to relent.
Thy will be done, amen.
- Oh, oh, oh - Shhh.
Shhh.
You want to be a road agent? Deal out death when called upon? Make a proper seal, stop up the breath, apply pressure even and firm, like packing a snowball.
You can go now, brother.
Al that magistrate's here.
I got those other two guys waiting upstairs.
Join 'em.
Get the sled for him, huh? Things are in the saddle, Al.
Tell me what you mean upstairs, huh? Adams your employee, and his butler.
Yes, how are you, Adams? I'm all right, sir.
We missed each other in Yankton.
Yes, I was in the company of General Crook.
Adams bore you my message to try fucking yourself.
And here he is in your office.
Well, I figured I'd catch up with you here.
Do you no longer serve his interests, is what he seems to wonder.
Adams, for his part, is stone-featured, steeled in his purpose.
- Which he'd be - Wherever his allegiance may lay.
Well, be that as it may, Magistrate, living as we all do in doubt, please proceed.
General Crook's at the point of making a decision whether to garrison some number of soldiers here or to leave the camp to find its own way.
I understand your strong preference in this regard.
You must understand that for whatever reason General Crook has come to trust me and rely on my counsel exclusively.
The appropriate gesture made by you toward me would lead me to dissuade the general from the garrison option, as well as clear away from above the cloud of uncertainty regarding your personal liabilities, namely the incident in Chicago.
You have the document of inquiry from Chicago? The murder warrant.
Yes, Al, I do.
- On your person? - Yes.
Make the appropriate gesture, and the constable hand of the past will no longer weigh upon you.
What man couldn't that be said about? I'll be happy to give you this paper when you take that fucking gun off me.
Both of them.
Swaddle the cocksucker and dispose of him.
His money and effects are yours.
That don't count towards the 2,000.
No, I still owe you the two.
Crook's troops are mustering.
I didn't think your father would have to travel so soon.
I don't begrudge him an uncomfortable journey.
I'll see him secured.
And after that, he's on his own.
Doc! Doc! It's here your competition.
Or is that one of your fucking heresies? He passed.
Lemme help you bring him inside.
A wily cocksucker, huh? Waited till I got him off the sled, huh? I would have let him lay in state, but I need the room for my whores.
Thanks for seeing him through.
Are you gonna probe in his noggin now to see what went amiss? No, not tonight.
Tonight, I plan to drink in.
Announcing your plans is a good way to hear God laugh.
I told him, but we ain't had time to act on your request yet.
Yeah, I know.
It's been a busy night.
- Bullock, what is it? - We need to talk.
Right.
Yeah, okay.
Doc, I'm gonna be a few minutes, huh? See this man gets his shine, huh? Come on.
Hi, Doc.
How you doing? No stiffness or numbness.
Uh, let me see you move around a bit.
That'll give you a shine.
How do I look? How do you feel's the goddamn question.
I feel good.
Well, good.
Hey, Doc.
Give me a whirl.
No, no.
Come on, I'll teach you how.
No, no, no, no, no, no.
No, I won't, um No.
There's a blood stain on your floor.
Yeah, I'm I'm gonna get to that.
Crook's forces in full retreat.
Taking Mrs.
Garret's father with 'em.
Up and about so quick.
- He's slung over a mule.
- Alive, is my point.
Dority give me to understand you'd just as soon as seen him dead.
If that man comes back to the camp, he'd be my problem to deal with.
The way you and Hickok dealt with Ned Mason.
No.
I'll be the fucking sheriff.
Starting when? Starting now.
- You have the tin? - I do.
Produce it.
On the tit.
I know where it goes.
Huzzah.
Hey, General! You son of a bitch! Wow-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh! Wooh! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! You know, I've never spoken to her once since she come to camp.
You reckon that's another reason not to kill her old man, besides whatever's going on between the two of you.
Yeah.
Anyways, Sheriff, I'm gonna walk past that blood stain that mysteriously appeared and go oversee my business interests.
Take your time.
Say "I'm as nimble as a forest creature.
" You're as nimble as a forest creature.
No, say it about yourself.
I'm as nimble as a forest creature.
d When we see Jesus, coming in glory d d When He comes from His home in the sky d d Then we shall meet Him in that bright mansion d d We'll understand it all, by and by d d Farther along we will know all about it d d Farther along we will understand why d d Cheer up, my brother, live in the sunshine d d We'll understand it all by and by.
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