McCabe & Mrs. Miller Page #3

are so against a bath.

I ain't. I just don't like being told when.

- It's that Miller woman. She's the one...

- Well, Mr. McCabe, how does she look?

Goddamn good.

McCabe, why don't you ask Mrs. Miller

when those new whores are coming?

- What's the matter with the ones we got?

- You just hold your water tower.

You think I'll let some chippy

tell me how to run a gooseberry ranch?

You got the goddamn saddle

on the wrong horse.

Those girls will come up here

when I goddamn tell them to.

I'm paying you boys 15 cents an hour,

after you've been in them mines all day...

so you'll have something to do besides

go home and play with Mary Five Fingers.

Right, Berg?

That's right, Mr. McCabe.

You heard what he said.

He's paying us 15 cents an hour,

after we've been working in the mines...

so we'll have something to do

besides play with Five-Fingered Mary.

Shut up, Jeremy.

Mrs. Miller.

I wish to have a word with you,

Mrs. Miller.

- You going to open that door?

- No.

All right.

I asked to have a simple word with you.

Nothing else.

And if you think I'm going to have

this conversation through this door...

that's just fine with me.

I want to know when them girls

are getting in here from Seattle.

I got the boys working on your bathhouse.

I got a right to know.

I paid for their transportation.

You think I'm nothing but a bank.

So far, you've cost me nothing but money.

Money and pain.

Pain!

- These ladies are looking for you, ma'am.

- What happened?

The wagon broke down about a mile back.

I've got most of the things in here.

Get the ladies' luggage, quick as you can!

Allow me to introduce my wife.

This is Mrs. Washington.

My name is Sumner Washington.

I'm a barber.

Pleased to meet you. Lil!

Thought you'd like to look

at my beautiful ladies.

Give them a hot bath. Go on.

Quick, get the water heated.

My ass is frozen!

That's what at least

half the boys say about you, dear.

You told us

there was going to be a house up here.

Keep your hair on. I'm building

a bloody palace here for you girls.

Right now I'm going to give you a bath.

I'm not f***ing any Chinaman.

Shut up! Ever know a chink to f***

a chink when a white woman's around?

Stop whining or I'll scratch your eyes out.

Blimey, how they do go on.

You said in your letter there was

a house up here. You call this a house?

- You stole that from Christine!

- You're goddamn right.

- I paid $13 for it!

- Shut up, Eunice!

You're always bloody complaining.

- Dollar to you, Jack.

- Call.

Say, you know what I heard?

I heard one of the girls they were bringing

was an authentic Chinese princess.

Is it true what they say

about Chinese girls?

- Horseshit. Their legs would fall off.

- Come on. It's true.

Their eyes, the way they slant,

and the way they tip up at the side.

That's true for the rest of their bodies.

A friend of mine, Amos Lindville,

down in Sacramento, California...

he once spent $5 to find out, $5 just

to have a look, and he said it's true.

A guy like Lindville isn't going to spend $5

to find out something that isn't true.

I'm a cook now, I'm not a whore anymore.

With all that experience, it's unfair.

Wait until we get the place finished.

It's really going to be something.

You know, the whorehouses

down in South America are really unusual.

- You were down in South America?

- I was there when I was a boy.

Of course, they're unusual.

They're not like this at all.

They're not fancy.

They're just sort of mud huts, mud houses.

You get a family of people

working in these mud houses...

and the women in the family are whores.

- You know where Berg is, Smalley?

- He's in there.

- Has he had a bath?

- Madam, I'm not here as a customer.

Berg?

- Looking for me, Mr. McCabe?

- You trying to put me out of business?

These order forms.

That's all right because that...

- How much is that Chinese girl?

- $1.50.

- Does that go for Mrs. Miller, too?

- She's $5.

$5!

Make sure you get what you ordered.

- Is that right, Mrs. Miller?

- What's that?

- $5?

- That's right.

- Jesus Christ, that's a lot of money.

- Sh*t. All right! Let's go.

It's in your own best interest

that you have these forms...

and to make sure they're signed.

Hello, Mr. Quigley.

Not scared of me, are you?

Once you've got everything you ordered,

you can tell it's true. You've got proof.

You've got my signature

on these order forms...

and that's all that you'll need.

So, that's it.

Unless, of course,

you'd like us to stay around.

- See if maybe someone doesn't...

- Go ahead.

I've got my tit in the wringer

on these books.

I can't tell the goddamn owls

from the chickens.

Fourteen and eight.

Fourteen and eight.

Sh*t!

Why are you always

in such a lousy temper?

Because, my dear Mrs. Miller, I not only

built you your gooseberry ranch...

I've paid for a bathhouse I don't need.

I've paid for transportation.

I've paid for towels, and linens,

and enema bags.

I've paid for things them chippies of yours

don't even know how to use.

But I have not sold a bottle of whiskey

in here today, and that's a fact!

That, my dear Mr. McCabe,

is because every geezer in this town...

was taking a bath in your bathhouse...

or having it off with a girl

in your whorehouse.

I ain't seen none of that money.

What my books tell me I need is money.

Whorehouse, bathhouse money

for the first week.

We're short on the bath money

because of the first-night rush...

but I'll see it won't happen again.

I'm not surprised you don't know

how much money you've got...

and how much you ain't.

You've got your credit column

on a different page from your debits.

Keep your nose out

of things you don't understand.

- What's 14 from 23?

- What?

You heard me. 14 from 23.

Nine. Nine plus 16?

- Twenty-five. Five and...

- My dear madam!

I can hold my own in any game of chance,

and figure out payoffs before you blink!

Don't give me horse-puckies because

it takes me time to write it up formal.

If you're so bloody smart,

you'd know that if we went ahead...

and bought the windows and doors,

you'd make twice as much money.

Perhaps you like screwing

with the wind whistling up your ass!

How come whenever you talk

about money, you say "we"?

I say "we," Mr. McCabe,

because you think small.

You think small

because you're afraid to think big.

I'm telling you,

you have to spend money to make money.

You want to spend the rest of your life

shuffling cards in this dump? Fine!

I don't! There's going to come a time...

when I sell you my half interest, go to

San Francisco and buy a boarding house.

But right now, I don't want no smalltimer

screwing up my business.

Boarding house?

I'd like to get a good look

at them boarders.

Where do you think you're off to?

Money and pain.

Pain.

Alf, look at this.

- Hey, hon. You work at Mrs. Miller's?

- That's my wife, you son of a b*tch!

Jesus Christ! It's blood.

His heas all busted open!

Come on. Let's pick him up.

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