Jane, for me the female breast long ago lost mystery or allure. Open your goddamn blouse.
I'll keep my fucking eyes shut, but I'll know every fucking move you make.
“A Lie Agreed Upon, Part Two” · Season 2
In this episode: Al Swearengen (8), Calamity Jane (4), Johnny Burns (2), Seth Bullock (1), Charlie Utter (1), Doc Amos Cochran (1), Dan Dority (1), Alma Garret (1)
Over time, your quickness with a cocky rejoinder must have gotten you many punches in the face.
We do love each other. Our being together ought not to seem so outlandish a proposition. Except for every other single thing.
A full fair-mindedness requires us also to report that within the Gem, on Deadwood's main thoroughfare, comely whores, decently priced liquor and the squarest games of chance in the hills remain unabatedly available at all hours, seven days a week.
The economic aspect is one fabric in the tapestry of journalism.
Ass-fucking the dirt worshippers being another? A pleasure beyond gain.
Now, now, now.
Oh, is that your Heathen imitation? Jump up and down and give a few whoops, as in "Whoop, that ass fucking hurts."
For what it's worth, Yankton's afraid of Bullock.
Well, say no more. Refrain from explaining yourself.
Till Congress approves, nothing's to say the Hills get made part of Dakota. Far as that, Montana's got pull Dakota don't. Montana's got silver for bribes.
Thievin' Indian agent's all fucking Dakota's got.
It ain't fucking fresh money to the game.
And how does that argue for Bullock living or dying?
Yankton thinks Bullock's Montana's Man.
On what basis?
He was favorite of a judge in Helena that wanted him in politics. They figure he's a stalking horse here for the judge's interests.
Then Yankton's got their head up their fucking asses if they think Bullock's anybody's man. Hell, Bullock himself don't even know whose man he is.
In the thoroughfare, as I readied to stab the cocksucker, did you have no impulse to hint at this?
The moment didn't seem right.
Over time, your quickness with a cocky rejoinder must have gotten you many punches in the face.
Depends what you call, 'many'.
There's another fucking clever one.
To Yankton's thinking, would Bullock dead curb Montana's interests or incite them to a stronger expression?
I don't know.
If he's spoiling to mix it with us further, they may get a chance to find out.
[Regarding Silas and Dan] Them too seem disputatious as well, huh?
Storm clouds gather.
Jesus Christ!
Either Al got God or Dolly just stuck her thumb back up his ass.
Now, I'm halfway thinking this exaggerates the condition rather than alleviate it. If I might should query the doc, but then that cocksucker will only ask after gleets. Oh my God! Take it out. Take it out! Remove your fucking thumb! Why, if I was moving forward to get away from you, would you have fucking pursued me? When I stopped, pressed on yourself, to drive your thumb into my intestine?
DDolly
Sorry.
Is it a river of blood, or what the fuck's pouring out of it now?
DDolly
Nothing.
Huh. Close the ass-flap. The entire area of my fucking asshole is now one gigantic fucking throb. I have no idea what's transpiring in there.
[Receiving a blowjob] Even this, now gives me no pleasure.
[From outside] Swearengen! Be down in five minutes with my gun and badge!
Start down now, you limey cocksucker! Allow for getting stuck from crawling out from under the bed.
That Bullock is a fucking strategist, ain't he? Sets terms to publicly humiliate me, and my penalty if I don't comply is he walks into the bar downstairs and takes fifteen bullets in the chest. And that ain't no hooplehead, you know. Bullock, he's one of those special fucking cases, you don't know what in fucks going on in their mind, and he's big with Montana. Big. I heard that today. Because the news earlier from Yankton and the fucking commissioners wasn't adequately confusing. Not to mention the fucking telegraph coming in and four whores that I don't know who the fuck they work for.
[From outside] Three minutes!
Shut the fuck up! I suppose I do fucking understand. So fucking confused and disgusted and wanting it to end and looking for the blessing of a quick way out. Sets himself to a higher fucking standard than our natures, and he wants execution 'cause he's failed.
One minute!
What the fuck happened to two?
Talk about one person, fucking up another person's entire fucking day. [Goes outside to the balcony, points at Bullock] Wait.
He's coming, he's detained. Getting dressed.
Ain't it always a trial picking out the best gown best conceals you fucking pissed yourself.
I regret the delay, I was sequestered. Have been, one thing and another, since last we met. I also apologize for the stink.
Welcome change from your usual odor of skunk!
I offer these, and I hope you'll wear them a good long fucking time in this fucking camp, whose ever fucking thumb we're under. And where it come to me just a few moments ago that the Reverend Smith, may he rest his soul, he was found on the road, apparently murdered by heathens just some months ago. What he said on the subject of you: 'Mr. Bullock raises a camp up' and I hope he'll reside with us and improve our general fucking atmosphere for a good long fucking time, even with all the personal complications and fucking disasters that we all fucking have, and where, running away solves absolutely fucking nothing.
These quotes come from Wikiquote's Deadwood pages and are available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.