Knowing him for an errant maniac, I'll still not believe Bullock doubts me.
“The Catbird Seat” · Season 3
In this episode: Al Swearengen (3), George Hearst (1), Jack Langrishe (1), Blazanov (1)
[reading a telegram from Hawkeye] "23 men hired, all on our way." This squaw-fuckin' idiot. Proves in eight words he's incompetent and a fuckin' liar. He can't have got Adams' telegram more than four hours ago, yet he expects me to believe that in four hours he can prudently assess the qualities of 23 hires. And you know what "on our way" means, huh?
No.
"On our way" means they're getting drunk and blown in some saloon in Cheyenne and running their mouths about the big fuckin' filibustering expedition they're being commissioned for under the command of the famous Hawkeye; the laziest, most shit-faced whore-mongering cocksucker to ever piss my money away!
The man I once was, Al, was not formidable, and I am but his shadow now. And yet I'd be put to use. A decoy, perhaps. A weight to drop on villains from above.
I oughtn't to work in these places. I was not born to crush my own kind.
[to his whores, pointing at a sleeping man] Rouse him to spend on pussy, or rob the son of a bitch.
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