Shoot Out Page #2
- GP
- Year:
- 1971
- 95 min
- 398 Views
- To you? Nothing. - To her?
The first town we hit that's got
a Marshall I'd hand her over.
Wait a minute. We found this
piece of paper pinned on the kid.
It's got your name on it.
Well now, maybe you're better off.
After what do you expect from
a man who changes his hats?
- Decky. What's your last name? - Ortega.
- No, that was your mother's. Your father's?
- I ain't got no father.
- Everybody has got a father.
- You're about five years old maybe?
- Six, going on seven.
- Six, going on seven...
- Well, how does it come out?
Do you leave her here or some place else?
She didn't have a name printed out of nothing.
- Someone has a mean sense of humor.
- Mean to you, or her?
There ain't no law that says
you got to accept shipment.
I can't hold up this train waiting for
you to figure what a way to weasel out.
Watch your mouth.
Forget it, mister. I just
carry her over to a Marshall.
Someway down the lines.
Maybe it will be better off.
A man who changes hats.
Oh, hell!
- Come on, kid.
- I won't!
- Come on! - I don't want to go with him!
- You have decided? - Yeah.
If you don't get this,
you didn't take that.
Please don't leave me here! Please!
Please don't leave me here! Please!
Don't leave me!
I don't want to go with you!
- Now limber.
- I won't.
If you don't then I'll drop you
on your little rump.
Put me down. You hate me!
I don't want to go!
This ain't never gonna go away.
I will remain a huge black eye.
- How much sugar?
- Bastards!
I says to him, do anything you want
but please don't touch my poor eyes.
Well, that was it! Red blank as a bull.
- Did he smack you?
- No! Right in the eyes. I'm so dumb.
I should have known! He just got
to do what a girl says he can't.
I got you just the thing for you.
I sell these little bastards, to
the bar-fighters for a dollar each.
- I just thought it in connection with a female.
- What the hell is them?
- Real live Mexican bloodsucker worms!
- Well, them is leeches.
- It draws the color right out of the skin.
- I will not.
Shoot honey, I wouldn't do
you no mean trick. Watch!
Put one of those on your cheek and you'll
get a complexion like a new-born babies.
You know something?
I forgot to collect my money.
- From them three fellas?
- Yeah.
- I didn't know how much I'd charge.
- Just powder your eye and drink your coffee.
Collecting money,
that's what men are for.
Now, Who would do a thing like
this to a man's property?
Some low-cow-shagged tail with a knife
and he must have had it done like this.
- All this damages on you're gonna be billed!
- Mister, don't rouse him before breakfast.
I'm gonna take an inventory of all
you damaged, burned or busted!
- Pour us some coffee.
- Pour your own. - Pour!
What is them things?
- Well, that's her breakfast.
- No. You gotta be kidding me!
Alma will eat anything you give her.
Eat them thing, Alma!
- Bobby Jay! - What?
- Only he'd done was meet a train.
- Well, did he get on that train?
- No.
Very interesting. Come on!
What else did he do?
He stole a little girl, about so high.
It looks like he's bringing her here.
It sounds like an old Bank robber is gone
white slave trader. Now you hear that, Alma?
Lomax is bringing your replacement!
- Is she gonna eat this thing?
- Well, sure she's gonna eat that thing.
- Do you want to see? - Trooper!
- You give me my money! - What money?
- From last night.
- Oh the hell, you owe us.
Pepe, what'd you think
we ought to charge?
I don't know.
She had a nice roll in her purse!
Give her back her purse!
Give her back her purse stay down!
- You tore that wall and you're gonna pay!
- We ain't paying for nothing, grands.
We are getting paid.
- Pepe, see what's in that cash drawer.
- Watch your line. I've got a gun at you!
Well now, I declare?
You've drawn your gun on me.
- Why did you do that?
- Self-defense. - He's dead!
- Not.
- Oh, yes he is.
Well, that's right Skeeter,
we are three musketeers.
- Next!
- Bobby Jay Jones, I swear...
What is that, is our blood brother
going back on his solemn word?
Get the money out of the drawer!
Do you know how to cook?
Wrong! You know to cook!
You'd just hide on. Come on.
- Trooper! - Tell clay...
- Clay is gone.
Gun... Hill.
My mom says no cowboy ever
walks when he can ride.
- Sit right there, or I'll whirl you.
- No, you won't.
It's Trooper!
- Them three kids shot him.
- Did they? - Yeah.
And then they left, took Alma with
them. Did anybody going after them?
Nobody yet.
Before he died he said your name
and something about Gun Hill.
- Gun Hill?
- Yeah.
- I'd pay a weight. - I'm sorry.
- I never had kids, never wanted none.
I'd ran away from you anyway.
It seems to me you are the right one.
She got to go to school anyhow.
I can't board any children,
all I can do to teach them.
- What do you teach them? Look out for yourself?
- Yes.
No!
But preacher you are my last hope
left in this town I can turn to.
I suggest to turn this
responsibility over to the Marshall.
To the law?
Turn her over to the law?
Preacher, you know I've done bad things
in my day but nothing that bad.
Reverend, you're harder than hard.
I'd say you are mean.
Perhaps.
But not mean enough to try to
get rid of a child in her presence.
- You've got any soap?
- No. - Well, I have.
- You stink. You got to have a bath.
- No!
- Now shove them rags. - No!
- Get them off or I'll do it for you. - I won't!
- You bastard stinkpot, it's cold!
- What did you say?
You bastard stinkpot!
You say that again and I'll
scrub your dirty little mouth!
- What about you? You stink too!
- If I've finished with you I'll take mine.
- Are you my father?
- What kind of fool's question is that?
But since you're so curious...
Me and your mama was friends
of us, a hundred years ago.
- You're not an uncle.
- No.
I sure had a lot of uncles.
But they were no good.
Mama said no man was any good.
- On the third time she came to visit.
- Visit? Where?
I stayed with folks.
- What folks?
- Different ones.
The last ones didn't want me to keep
my cat. They threw stones at her.
- As long as they didn't hit her...
- They did! They killed her.
The place I'm taking you to are friends
of mine, they'll let you have a cat.
- I don't want any more cats.
- The Nelsons got a nice place, a real farm.
It's still a far piece.
We better get going.
That ain't the way to Gun Hill!
Why are we getting here, Jay?
You got to tell Sammy we cut out
for Mexico, to get our money, huh?
- Oh now, you're thinking for me?
- No, no!
I'm sure have a fine running cards.
It looks like the Nelsons had the same.
Indians!
What are you figuring, scout?
- Navajo or Apache?
- I don't know.
- Is it Indians?
- Worse.
Worse than Indians, Decky.
- That there is the smell of hard times.
- Are you funning me? - No.
There ain't nothing else smells that bad.
Let's fix us a campfire, so we
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"Shoot Out" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/shoot_out_18027>.
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