Alright, Raylan, alright, you win. You wanna find Dewey here's what you do. First of all go to a gas'n'go or whatever and get yourself a map of Kentucky. Follow route 9 southbound with your finger, follow it way way down until you're pointing right at... your asshole, and then what you gonna do is you're gonna take your hand and just go ahead and cram it right up inside. You gotta make sure, Raylan, that you do it in a way so that the rest of you just keeps on following your hand right up your ass, right up inside all that shit you're so full of, Raylan. And then what you gonna do is you're just gonna [whistles] wink out of existence forever.
Proud of that one, aren't you?
Just so I'm clear, you're not gonna kill me? 'Cause I was worried for a minute.
'Cause that web of bullshit you spun around yourself to protect yourself? I'm gonna use it to strangle the life out of you and take away everything you got. Then you're gonna wish I'd have blacked you out—with a bullet to the head.
Well, this feels like one of those "time will tell" deals which, as a free man, I have plenty of. Question is: how much time you got?
You said you'd help us get him. You didn't get him. So we'll be proceeding to convene a grand jury, bring charges against you as soon as possible.
Are you back to that file bullshit?
[Raylan opens his desk and pulls out a thick file of papers.]
There it is. Thick with the names of the suffering and the dead, and many felled by your own hands. A trail of human wreckage you've left rotting in jail cells and cold graves throughout this state. And why? Because they had the poor judgment to believe your lies and follow your tune. Well, it's high time that tune reached a shuddering crescendo.
Say, what's the first thing you ever killed? You're from Florida, right?
KCKendal Crowe
Gator, maybe. When I was 11.
I was 11, too, or thereabouts. Wasn't a gator, though. Will Hendricks' pig got out of its pen, went feral, started tearing up my mama's vegetable patch. Arlo built the trap, caught it, gave me a gun, said, "get 'er done." You ever see a pig that's gone feral? Nasty. Tusks grow. They get dirty, ill-tempered. They don't look bad from a distance, but get up close, best watch your ass. You hook the gator before you...?
KCKendal Crowe
Danny hooked him. Wanted to do it himself, but Daryl said it was my time.
Well, there you are, pointing that gun at something that's staring back at you, right? Longer I stood there, the less I wanted to do it. Not that I had a choice. Arlo'd tan my hide if I didn't.
KCKendal Crowe
Danny called me a pussy.
Ain't about being a pussy, though, is it? No small thing, taking a life. Hell, my hand was shaking so bad, first shot nearly missed. Pig squealing, bucking, spraying blood. Put three more shots just to get it to lay still. I knew I should have felt good about it, but I didn't. Walked home, stepped through the front door, and threw up. That's when Arlo called me a pussy. He beat the shit out of me, too. Started thinking less about what I'd done to that pig and more—about what I'd like to do to Arlo.
KCKendal Crowe
Well, did you do it?
Not as such. I always wondered, though, if I didn't join the Marshals just to prove something to him what a badass I was. Maybe just to spite him. He hated me being a lawman. And I knew. I knew when I joined that I might have to shoot someone in the line of duty. But first time it happened, god damn if it wasn't the same feeling sick to my stomach. Just kept asking myself if there was something I could have done different short of pulling my gun. What was it like for you?
KCKendal Crowe
What, the gator? It's a goddamn dinosaur. Who gives a shit?
