[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.
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