Tall Tale Page #2

South, down Mexico way.

Mister, l gotta get home.

My pa's bad hurt. l gotta take care

of my ma and my little brother.

You stay here and you're gonna fry

like a bug on a hot skillet.

You best come with me.

Put some muscle into it!

Paradise Valley. My idea of heaven!

lron, coal, oil, copper.

Riches beyond the imagination, just

waiting for a few rugged individuals

with the vision, the strength

and the means

to make their dreams come true.

Gentlemen, we stand

on the edge of history.

- What about the deeds?

- We'll have them tonight.

- You still don't have the deeds?

- lt's under control.

What happens if we finish the tunnel

and the farmers still haven't sold?

This is the West.

Things are simple here.

There's only one law -

winner take all.

And l plan to take it.

You best be right, otherwise

you'll end up back where you started -

just another gun for hire.

By the time that tunnel

breaks through, l guarantee you,

we will have the deeds

to every inch of Paradise Valley...

..one way or another.

Whoa, Widowmaker.

We'll make camp here.

Good boy, Widowmaker.

Whoa, Widowmaker. Easy, son.

Widowmaker's kinda particular about

folks taking liberties with him.

Last man who tried that,

Widowmaker kicked him so hard

he ended up halfway to the moon.

Name of Lanky Hank.

He bounced up and down

for a month of Sundays until finally

l just had to shoot him down

so he could have a proper burial.

The moon's thousands of miles away.

A man could never bounce that high.

You sure do know a lot

for a half-growed piglet.

ln plain English, stay away

from the horse or he'll kill you.

- l'll try to remember that.

- See that you do.

Kinda makes it all worthwhile,

don't it?

- l ain't going to Mexico.

- Who said anything about Mexico?

We're headed north.

- Paradise Valley?

- You got business to settle.

But why? Why would

you go out of your way for me?

Are you coming or ain't you?

Hackett's farm, right smack

in the middle of everything!

Without that deed,

l won't have a bucket to spit in.

Well?

Hackett's kid's disappeared.

And the deed with him.

ln other words, you let him get away?

Me?

No. The kid got hold of a boat

and he slipped down south.

l want that kid!

l ain't looking for a fight with Stiles.

l just wanna get home.

Sometimes a fight comes looking for you.

Finds you, too,

no matter where you hide.

lt would be 100 to one.

Nobody can win against those odds.

100 to one?

Job like this calls for a big man -

Mr Paul Bunyan.

Paul Bunyan? Yeah, right!

Bunyan?

- Never heard of him.

- That's 'cause he don't exist!

You ain't heard of Paul Bunyan,

the greatest logger of 'em all?

No.

Come on. Let's haul freight

out of this manure wagon.

Come here!

l hear that you're looking for Big Paul?

- You know Paul Bunyan?

- Know him? By cracky, yeah!

l've flipped more flapjacks

and slung more hash

than you can shake a fist at,

trying to fill the belly of that fella!

- l never could, you know?

- Do you know where he might be?

Paul pulled up stakes when

the first machinery moved in here.

The last l heard, he'd settled

in the Great Redwood Forest.

Well, l'm much obliged to you,

old fella.

Appreciate it.

- Thank you, sir.

- Good luck to you.

He's just an old geezer.

What does he know?

More than you.

Howdy.

We'll take that deed, kid!

Pecos!

- Pecos!

- Hang on, Dannel!

Help!

Pecos!

Let's go, kid. This way.

We gotta get you out of here.

All right now, come on out.

Attaboy, Widowmaker!

Get the hell outta here!

Go down the pipe and keep going.

Say hi to Big Paul, and good luck!

- Get back here, kid!

- What are you waiting for? Jump!

What l can't understand is

how did they know we was coming?

- Maybe the telegraph.

- The what?

They're strings of wire which allow

a man, say in San Francisco,

to talk to a man in New York City.

You're telling me a tall tale!

No voice can carry that far!

They don't actually talk to each other,

but word has it that that's coming, too.

This man named Bell is claiming that

people can be hundreds of miles away

and hold a conversation like

they're as close as l am to you!

Everybody'll know everybody else's

business?

There ain't gonna be a single place

left a man could find any privacy.

l'll tell you about everybody -

everybody and their dog's

probably after us by now!

lt used to be when a man got

a head start, it meant something!

Least we got away.

Never enough for you termites, is it?

You swindled me out of my camp,

robbed me of my trade,

now you want my woods, too!

l'm making my stand!

At least if l go down swinging,

l go down like a man!

Hush up, you log brain!

Pecos?

Let me take a gander at you.

You steamin' pile of buffalo pucky.

You're still ugly!

l told Sam.

They're not loggers. They're butchers.

Fancy machines cuttin' down everything,

the weak with the strong,

the sapling with the full-growed

so nothing could ever sprout again.

Sam said l was behind the times.

Me! Paul Bunyan.

The man who invented logging!

Who thought up

the double-bladed axe? Me.

Who dreamed up the log flume?

Me again. lt ain't easy. My head

hurt for days thinking up that one.

What about the grindstone?

Flapjack contest, wedge cuttin',

three point stands? Me, me, me, me!

Maybe l'm just old-fashioned,

but in my day, we didn't kill

the land, we just borrowed from it.

- What are you gonna do about it?

- l'll do as l darn well please.

- The rest can go to the blazes!

- lncluding Paradise Valley?

Paradise Valley? No concern of mine.

You're not Paul Bunyan.

Who says l ain't?

My pa told me stories about Paul Bunyan.

He said that Paul Bunyan was a giant

of a man. He could tame a continent.

Look danger in the eyes

and laugh in its face.

He got those parts right.

Not from where l'm sitting.

Seems to me you're just hiding out,

feeling sorry for yourself.

Pecos, who is this kid?

Seems to me

that you're just plain scared.

You are not the Paul Bunyan

my pa was telling me about.

How old are you, kid?

Do me a big, sequoia-sized favour.

Stay out of my way if you wanna be 13.

ls that ox really blue?

Of course he is. He was born

during the winter of the blue snow.

Move it, Pecos.

- He's feeling frisky.

- You move it!

Big blue bag of beef oughta be

haulin' logs, not haulin' ass.

Pardon my French.

Don't you worry, pretty baby.

Papa's here.

He won't let the bad man hurt you.

Watch your mouth, Pecos!

Baby's very sensitive!

We'll catch the ferry at Liberty City.

Home to every horse thief

and con artist in the territory!

Who will try his hand against the

latest miracle of modern technology?

l'm offering ten to one odds

that this new machine can drive

steel faster than anyone alive.

Now, come on! There's gotta be

someone here man enough to try!

You, sir? Come on! There's gotta be

someone man enough to try!

My name's John Henry.

And, mister, you got yourself a bet!

l'm offering 12 to one

the machine wins.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes