Red Garters Page #4

Reb, would you have killed him?

What in the world is that?

I guess Comanche

just done bit Minnie Redwing.

I guess he just done did.

Susana, when Rafael outdrew Carberry,

was it over you?

-Rafael smiles at all women.

-I noticed that.

Besides, Jason means well,

but he interferes too much.

How can a girl ever know her own heart

if somebody goes around threatening...

to shoot every man who even looks at her?

Don't you worry none, Susana...

I won't let anything happen

to him while I'm here.

-Who?

-Why, Rafael, of course.

Rafael!

You mean that if I decided

it was Rafael I like...

-that you'd protect him just for me?

-I sure would.

Of course I might have

to kill Jason Carberry a little bit, but--

Reb, how could you be so dense?

-You mad at me, Susana?

-How do I know?

Go ask Jason Carberry.

He does all my thinking for me.

Stop this! Stop this rowdyism!

Stop it, I say!

Mr. Carberry, this is

the most disgraceful den of iniquity...

it has ever been my pleasure to witness.

Greetings, oh, great white Father!

I'm not the President of the United States.

I'm merely his humble servant.

What do you mean, sir,

by serving ladies at the bar?

That's no lady, that's Minnie Redwing.

Ain't that a whizzer, lover?

How's your crime wave

coming along, Judge?

-So you admit there is a crime wave?

-What crime are you referring to?

The way you're running

this town is a crime in itself.

Why, for instance, have you done nothing

to find out who killed Robin Randall?

His brother will take care of that

and when he does...

we'll have ourselves a barbecue,

with athletic contests for one and all.

-I'd like to tell you exactly what I think--

-Save your breath.

No matter what you say,

I'm a cinch to disagree with you.

Furthermore, he'll oppose with his life

your right to say it.

What's the trouble, Judge?

The trouble is that everyone in this town

seems to consider it inevitable...

that Reb Randall not only will, but should

kill the man who shot his brother.

Why?

In a moment, Judge, you're gonna be

hearing all about the Code of the West.

So, if you'll pardon me now,

I'll be leaving. I've heard it.

Yes, sir, Judge, the Code of the West...

which says that a man's

got to go and kill the man...

which killed his brother, even if he

was a no-good polecat like Robin Randall.

Obviously Reb doesn't think

his brother was a no-good polecat!

You're right there, lover.

Why, even Reb said

no self-respecting polecat...

would have been caught dead

with that Robin Randall.

You mean Reb is expected to risk his life

over a brother he didn't like?

Surely even your barbaric code must take....

Must take extenuating circumstances

into account.

What difference does it make

whether or not Reb liked his brother?

A code's a code.

You're darn tooting,

and you go messing around with it...

the whole thing falls flat on its face.

As if you was to say:

''You shouldn't run away

with your neighbor's wife...

''except under extenuating circumstances,

such as her husband being out of town.''

The Code of the West

don't make no provisions...

for no extenuating circumstances.

If you believe in it, you got to live by it,

with no ifs, ands, or buts!

That's why Reb Randall's got to go out

and kill the man which killed his brother.

That reminds me, Billy...

this man who killed

your brother is still alive.

As a matter of fact, you did not

even bother to find out who he is.

How you account for that?

-Because Billy's a coward.

-That's right, I'm a coward.

That's why I've lived to pat so many

brave men in the face with a shovel.

-You could be next, Rafael.

-What do you mean by that, amigo?

It's just a darn good thing

for you that I am a coward...

else I might start talking.

-Buckett.

-Yeah?

What did you say?

I'm the quietest man you ever heard.

Put that thing away.

It's liable to go off and hurt somebody.

Here come the girls.

Hiya Pete, hiya Jim

howdy Joe, howdy Slim

We know what you've been missing

while you've been on the trail

We're mighty glad you're back in town

and keeping out of jail

Put the redeye down and drop your gun

We're gonna have a little fun

and it's coming to you

Hey, all you roaring cowboys

You got a treat tonight

Red garters on a dancing girl

what a pretty sight

Come on, you busy drinkers

and blow away the foam

Red garters on a dancing girl

you'll never see at home

I'm feeling friendly

and full of spice

But don't grab the package

or touch the merchandise

Hey all you men from Leadville

and you from Laramie

Red garters on a dancing girl

got them from Paree

Red garters on a dancing girl

are what you came to see

Started off in Yonkers

dressed from head to toe

Then I dropped my bustle off

South of Buffalo

Took off a dozen petticoats

in Altoona, Penn.

It got so hot in Illinois

dropped another ten

In Kansas let my hair down

same in Ioway

Finally got in fighting shape in California

And here I wear the minimum

Red garters, hooray

And to see the maximum

they come from miles away

Hey, you tobacco drummers

who said this town is tame

Red garters on a dancing girl

aren't you glad you came?

I've never been to Broadway

I just don't fit the part

Red garters on a dancing girl

now that's what I call art

Don't tell the sheriff

I'm breaking laws

Because you'll find the sheriff

leading the applause

I know your eyes will bug out

your chest is gonna heave

I'm gonna toss my garters out

snap them on your sleeve

Red garters on a dancing girl

That's the main event of entertainment

Red garters

Red garters

Red garters on me

I'll meet you both right after dinner...

and whatever you do,

be careful of Calaveras.

We were just talking about you.

-I'd like to talk about you, Jason.

-Delighted, sure, my dear.

What was it about me that you wanted

to talk to me about, Calaveras?

There's bound to be another killing

around here, Jason.

Followed by another barbecue...

with an empty place for the guest of honor.

Well?

I was wondering if this time

you intend to do anything about it.

-Why should I?

-To please me!

I'm getting sick and tired of barbecues.

I can't stand the sauce

they put on the meat.

What do you want me to do about it?

Simply send word to whoever it was

that killed Robin Randall...

to get out of town

until this thing blows over.

If I did that I'd be knuckling

under to that pompous windbag...

of a judge from Boston.

In addition to which, you'd be mighty

unpopular with your constituents...

if you interfered with their precious right...

to murder one another

whenever things get dull around here.

Isn't that correct?

According to the Code...

when one man kills another

in an affair of honor...

it's not murder.

That, Jason, would be small consolation

to a lonely widow on a cold night.

Now, Calaveras.

Shouldn't I leave

until you've finished dressing?

Why, for heaven's sake?

Somebody might come in

and find us like this.

If it'll make you feel at home,

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