This bloated tick, Claggett, feeding on the neck of the fucking military.
“Sold Under Sin” · Season 1
In this episode: Al Swearengen (5), Seth Bullock (5), E.B. Farnum (1), Doc Amos Cochran (1), Sol Star (1), Dan Dority (1), Cy Tolliver (1)
Walk in unannounced is a good way to get yourself killed, Doc.
OROtis Russell
[To E.B.] It must cost you sleep, the guests you drive off, the chances of thievin' and bilkin' you lose needing to rub against your betters.
I'll be the fucking sheriff.
Startin' when?
Startin' now.
Announcing your plans is a good way to hear God laugh.
Cavalry in camp, Doc. May I number you in the reception committee?
Fuck the cavalry and the committee that receives 'em.
You and I are gonna talk.
OROtis Russell
You don't account for my preferences, Mr. Bullock?
I will beat you here in the street.
OROtis Russell
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? Were you bullied, Mr. Bullock, when young and incapable? Now you see wrongs everywhere and bullying you feel called to remedy. The bully who oppressed your youth isn't at the table with us, perhaps he's long dead. 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. 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. 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.
[After beating Mr. Russell] 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.
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 fifteen minutes before they decide that since 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 oughta pin that (sheriff's badge) on your chest. You're hypocrite enough to wear it.
You just tell him.
I'm guessing you've done things today you wish you could amend.
What kind of man have I become, Sol?
I don't know. The day ain't fucking over.
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.
GCGeneral Crook
Why are you here, Mr. Bullock?
A man named Otis Russell is laid up in this establishment, he needs protection.
GCGeneral Crook
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.
GCGeneral Crook
Well, while we're here, I will hold Mr. Russell under protection, as a gesture to your brother's sacrifice.
Thank you, sir.
GCGeneral Crook
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. We all have bloody thoughts.
[Al puts a cloth over the face of the terminally-ill Reverend Smith, preparing to smother him]
[To Johnny] You want to be a road agent? Deal out death when called upon? [Puts the cloth tight over Smith's face, holding him as he thrashes] Make a proper seal, stop up the breath. Apply pressure, even and firm, like packing a snowball. [Whispers as Smith dies] You can go now, brother.
These quotes come from Wikiquote's Deadwood pages and are available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.