The Hateful Eight Page #6

And what do you got to say about all this?

What do I got to say?

About John Ruth's ravings?

He's absolutely right.

Me and one of them fella's

is in cahoots. And

we're just waitin' for

everybody go to sleep.

That's when we gonna' kill y'all.

Okay everybody,

hear this.

This here is Daisy Domergue.

She's wanted dead or alive for murder.

Ten thousand dollars.

That money's mine boys.

Don't wanna' share it.

I ain't gonna' lose it.

When the sun comes out, I'm taking

this woman into Red Rock, to hang.

Now...

is there anybody here...

comitted to stopping me`...

from doing that?

Really?

Nobody gotta' problem with this?

Well, I guess that's

very fortunate for me.

However, I hope you

all understand,

I can't just take your word.

Circumstances force

me to, take...

precautions.

When you say precautions...

why do I feel you mean me?

- Because I'm gonna' take your gun, son.

- You are? - Yes I am.

- Nothing personal.

- Just mine?

The Hangman got

himself a gun too?

I'll be dealing with his

gun after I deal with yours.

I feel kinda' naked without it.

Oh, I still got mine.

I'll protect you.

A bastards work is never

done, huh, John Ruth?

That's right, Joe Gage.

- Now gimmie the gun.

- You want it?

You have to come and take-

Calm down.

Take your hand away from your gun.

Blink if you're calm.

- Did he blink?

- He blinked.

Blink if your gonna' remain calm?

- He blinked.

- Take his pistol.

I'm real sorry about this, son.

Like I said, nothing personal.

Just a precaution.

Pretty sneaky.

I'm afraid the same

applies to you too, Mr.

Mobray.

Precautions must be taken

because life is too sweet to lose.

Hand me that little bucket.

O.B.?

Go to the outhouse.

Take this bucket and dump

it down the sh*t hole.

Why do I gotta' go outside?

Your jacket's already on.

And I sorta kinda trust you.

After you Major.

Okay.

I'm gonna' cut you loose while we eat.

Don't get any ideas,

I ain't goin' soft on ya'.

You lift your ass even

one inch off this seat,

I'll put a bullet right

in your goddamn throat.

So Domergue,

I suppose this blizzard counts as a stroke

of luck as far as you're concerned?

- You don't hear me complaining do ya'?

- No I sure don't.

How 'bout you Oswaldo?

How about me what?

Look,

considerin' all the thing I done

for money, I ain't one to judge.

But don't you feel just the least

little bad 'bout hangin' a woman?

Till they invent a trigger

a woman can't pull, if

you're a hang man, you're

going to hang woman.

Well hell Ozzy, I guess I ain't never

looked at it like that before.

When it comes to some

of them mean bastards

out therem it's the only

thing does the job.

You really only need to hang mean bastards.

But mean bastards, you need to hang.

You goddamn son of a b*tch!

I almost died out there!

I ain't never going out in that sh*t

ever, ever again!

You okay, O.B.?

I'm fine.

I'll be fine.

I just need to get warm.

You want some stew, O.B.?

Stew, later.

That's nice.

So...

- how you doin', black Major?

I ain't in the mood, Chris Mannix.

Leave me be from your horseshit.

John Ruth says you gotta' a Lincoln Letter?

I tole' you jackass to

Hee-Haw somewhere else.

That's right, John.

- You did say, didn't ya'?

- Yeah I did.

So...

- you got a letter from Abraham Lincoln?

- Yes.

Thee Abraham Lincoln?

Yes.

Abraham Lincoln The President

of the United States...

- Yes.

- Of America? - Yes.

- Wrote you a letter, personally?

- Yes.

- Personally? As in: "Dear Maj. Warren"?

- No. Personally as in: "Dear Marquis".

"Dear Marquis" Abraham Lincoln the

President of the United States of America?

Yes.

- May I see it?

- No you may not.

But the way John tells it,

you weren't just some

random n*gger soldier picked

from a pile of letters.

Way John tells it,

- y'all hada' correspondence.

- Yes.

Way John tells it, y'all's

practically pen pals?

Yes.

And a pen pal's...

practically a friend.

John Ruth,

you really think a n*gger

drummed outta' the

Calvary with a yellow

stripe down his back,

was practically friends with The President

of The United States of America?

John Ruth, I hate to be the one to break it

to ya' but nobody in Minnie's Haberdashery,

had ever corresponded with Abraham Lincoln,

Least of all, that n*gger there.

Was all that horseshit?

Course it was.

Well I guess it's true

what they say about you people.

You can't trust a f***in' word

that comes outta' your mouth.

What's the matter, John Ruth?

I hurt your feelings?

As a matter of fact, you did.

I know,

I'm the only black son of a b*tch you ever

met, so I'm gonna' cut you some slack.

But you got no idea, what it's like

being a black man facin' down America.

The only time black folks are safe,

is when white folks is disarmed.

And this letter,

had the desired effect of

disarming white folks.

Call it what you want,

I call it a dirty f***in' trick.

You wanna' know why I'd lie

about something like that, white man?

Got me on that stagecoach, didn't it.

Well I'll tell you like

the lord tole' John,

a letter from Abraham Lincoln wouldn't

have that kinda' effect on me.

- I might let a whore piss on it.

- I spit on it.

Good for you, sister.

Warren goddamit,

you leave that old man alone!

Stand down you son of a b*tch,

I shared a battle field with this man.

Or would you deny me that too?

I suppose you were there.

May I join you?

Yes you may.

Damn it.

So,

how's life since the war?

Got both my legs.

Got both my arms.

- I can't complain.

- Got a woman?

Fever took her, started this last winter.

What was her name?

- Betsy.

- Georgia girl?

Augusta.

Atlanta boy, and a Augusta girl.

I use to raise Kentucky horses.

Her paw' was the owner of the breedershit

where I brought of my ponies.

God damnit.

I made good deal on her.

Took the stake he gave and

bought a bunch peach ochards.

Set myself up pretty well.

Did a hellva' lot better than

my no good brothers, that's for damn sure.

Yeah, your son came up

here a few years back.

He spoke highly of his mama too.

You knew my boy?

Yeah...

Yeah I knew 'em.

You did not know my boy.

Suit yourself.

Didja' know my son?

I know the day he died, - do you?

- No.

You wanna know what day that was?

The day he met me.

He came up here to

do a little n*gger head huntin'.

By then the reward was so,

five thousand and bragging rights.

But back then to battle hard rebs, five

thousand just to cut off a n*ggers head,

now that's good money.

So the Johnny's climbed this mountain,

lookin' for fortune.

But there was no fortune to be found.

All they found was me.

All them fella's came up

here sang a different tune,

when they found

themselves at the mercy of a n*gger's gun,

"Let's just forget it.

I go my way, you go yours"

- that's your boy Chester talkin'

- You a goddamn lie.

"If you just let me

home to my family, I'll

swear, I'll never set

foot in Wyoming again."

That's what they all said.

Beggin' for his life.

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