Death Hunt Page #2

cost for the trouble!

I'd feel better if you'd

lay those rifles down.

Sorry, mister, but...

...the dog wasn't chained, so...

Don't have any room in the cabin, but

if you want to get warm, you can

build yourselves a fire right around there.

Yes, sir. Thank You.

We do appreciate it.

Make you some food.

Get down.

- There you are.

- Thanks, mister.

Get down! No! Get down!

Get down! Get down!

Goddamn!

Help me, somebody!

Kill that goddamn dog!

Kill that goddamn dog!

- Let's get out of here..

- Son of a b*tch!

Shot his scalp off!

That son of a b*tch

has killed somebody!

Come on, let's go!

We had been married 9 years,

when my late husband left me

to come here and make his fortune.

After a short time, what little

money we had was gone, but

I managed alright on my own.

Now, all that's left to

remember him by is...

...this broken watch...

...and a trapper's license.

And I thank you for

holding these things for me.

But I want you all to know...

...that I'm glad I came here.

Because it wasn't until now that

I fully realized

how little I cared for the man...

...that I will not miss him.

Well...

Happy 1932.

Oh, you feel good.

You feel pretty good yourself.

Take it easy, kid. Easy.

You've got a lot of potential for a rookie,

but damn, you're ragged.

What do you mean, ragged?

Look, if you're in a do or die

contest with big stakes

you let the other guy

get a head start on you.

Take smaller swigs and

hold your breath, eh?

It looks like it's getting to your head.

When you see it's getting to him,

turn that sucker up

and bust it on down.

then you pray to the Lord you get the

hell out before you fall flat on your ass.

Where did you learn

them high school tricks?

Smooth - boy,

you've got to think smooth.

You're standing on my feet.

Sorry. You want me

to take my boots off?

- Where'd you say you learned this?

- Louisiana.

Louisiana?

You know, I used to practice

on my uncle's still.

Damn, I'd drink his whiskey

better than anybody around.

So, my uncle named that whiskey

after me:

Sundog whiskey.

That's a goddamned lie.

That whiskey was called Sundog

a hundred years before you were born.

Go on. Tell them what

your real name was.

Go on.

- I ain't ashamed of it.

- What is it?

George Washington

Lincoln Brown.

Yuck, yuck, yuck!

What's so damn funny about that?

Nothin'. Not a thing, Mr President.

No, but he was a first rate pitcher

with the Negro League.

Then he tried to make

the move over to the majors

by saying he was a Jamaican.

- Or was it Cuban?

- Mexican.

You don't look Mexican.

They didn't want to let me in

the majors and you know why.

Damn right I know why. I must've

heard that story 600 times.

Because I was too damn good.

That's why.

Hell, I'd have pitched that ball

down Ty Cobb's throat,

and made George Sisler

look like a damn electric fan.

They'll never let a Negro

do that to a white fellow. Never.

No sh*t.

I just kept trying to keep out of the

cold, and that was good enough for me.

Excuse me.

Alvin, she wants to know when

you can be ready for her.

- Tell her soon.

- She says you're a virgin.

She says you walk like you've

got a roll of nickles up your ass.

She says she can wait

for you in the bedrroom.

Well, there's nothing in the book that

says f***ing's against the law.

- I'm surprised.

- About what?

- This.

- What?

What about you?

What about me?

Well...

I mean...

didn't it mean anything?

Oh, God, woman, please.

Get your hands off me!

Where is he?!

I've got to talk to him now!

Get out of my way!

Edgar!

That crazy son of a b*tch killed Jimmy Tom!

The f***er who stole my dog!

And you let him be!

Crazy bastard!

Do you hear me Edgar?!

Jimmy Tom is dead!

I'll take care of it.

Jimmy Tom is dead!

I told you I would take care of it.

Get up!

A friendly fella.

He set right where you are, boy,

and paid for everyting with $100 bills.

Hey, he just wanted some supplies.

Bought two of my best shotguns

and 700 rounds of ammo.

From the way he acted,

he didn't look crazy to me...

...at least not any more crazy

than anyone else around here.

You dumb f***.

You lost what brains you had.

How the hell was I supposed

to know who he was?

700 rounds of ammo?

Bought it all. He had a lot of money.

Who is this guy?

Ever hear of the mad trapper - the one

who steals gold from men's teeth?

Yes, I've heard of him.

You think this guy's him?

Sure it's him! How else

would he get all that money?

Must have made a fortune in gold.

It doesn't make sense.

Listen here to the high fallootin' expert.

Tell us what makes sense.

I just figure any man who'll

risk his neck to save a dog's life

isn't going to kill somebody for gold teeth.

Wrong, boy. He's the mad trapper, alright.

Deak, I want to talk to you.

What really happened last night?

I told you.

Deak, I have to know everything

about this man we're going after.

I gotta know him so good,

I can taste him.

Now, how did you get a rifle butt

in your face without killing him?

He shot first, Edgar!

Honest to Christ!

Hold this, will you?

Ready.

We'll get that son of a b*tch.

Alright.

Let's go.

Don't kill me, Albert.

I expect that's you.

Hello, Bill.

Well... what brings you back?

Too damn crowded.

Gettin' that way all over.

Now, listen to me Albert,

'cause you ain't got much time.

Things are not the same

as when you left here.

They put up a town about 7 years ago.

Just a few hours from here...

...in good weather.

There's a Mountie outpost

there, and radios

and newspapers come in

from Toronto almost regular.

It's different, Albert.

There's a mountie there named

Edgar Millen, and he's coming after you.

I guess he'll bring a whole

bunch of others with him.

But he's the last man in the world

that anybody'd want on his trail.

They're gonna kill you.

Am I gettin' through to you, Albert?

- I understand what you're sayin'.

- Good.

Then you'll also understand when

I tell you to get the hell out of here.

Head south.

I appreciate you coming

over here to tell me that, Bill.

But you ain't runnin', that it?

Got no place to go.

Your father never had

anything against running.

I don't guess anybody ever really

wanted to catch up to him, anyway.

He's gone, isn't he?

He died in a prison hospital.

Where you headed?

Well, I guess I'll head up

into the high country.

Do some trappin'.

- Good hunting.

- Same to you, Albert.

Come on, boy.

See you around, Albert!

Tie those horses up.

Keep that fire goin'.

Yeah... he knows we're here.

Come on. Come on.

You stick with me, kid...

...and stay low.

Switch with me, Ned.

I want a shot at the front.

It's a deal.

Johnson!

This is Edgar Millen of the Royal

Canadian Polce talking to you!

I don't want any trouble

and I don't want to see

nobody else get hurt!

I'm coming in to talk to you!

Now, hear me out!

Edgar, what are you doing?

If he wanted a fire fight

he would have started.

He ain't crazy.

Naw, he ain't crazy.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes