The Hateful Eight Page #7

Your boy told me his whole life story.

And you was in that story, General.

And when I knew me I had the son.

Of The Bloody N*gger

Killer of Baton Rouge...

- I knew me I was gonna' have some fun.

- You shut your lyin' n*gger lips up!

General Smithers, don't you listen to him,

he didn't know your boy!

He just heard,

tell why you here is all!

It was cold the day I killed your boy.

And I don't mean snwoy mountain in

Wyoming cold. It was colder than that.

And on that cold day,

with your boy at the

business end of my gun barrel...

I made him strip.

Right down to his bare ass.

Then I told him to start walkin'.

I walked his naked ass for two hours,

'fore his cold collapsed him.

- You never even knew my boy?

- No he didn't!

He's just a sneaky n*gger

tryin' to getcha to go for that gun!

Then he commits to begging again.

But this time he wasn't begging to go home.

He knew he'd never see his home again.

And he wasn't beggin' for his life neither.

'Cos he knew that was long gone.

All he wanted... was a blanket.

Now don't judge your boy

too harshly, General. You

ain't never been cold as

your boy was that day.

You'd be surprised what a man that cold,

would do for a blanket.

Wanna know what your boy did?

I took my big, black,

pecker outta' my pants.

And I made him crawl through

the snow on all fours over to it.

Then I grabbed a hand full

of that black hair on the back his head...

Then I stuck my big, black Johnson

right down his goddamn throat.

And it was fulla' blood, so it was warm.

You bet your sweet ass it was warm.

And Chester Charles Smithers,

sucked on that warm black dingus

for long as he could.

Starting to see pictures, ain't ya'?

Your boy...

black dudes dingus in his mouth.

Him shakin', him cryin'

me laughin'

and him not understandin'

But you understand, doncha' Sandy?

I never did give your boy that blanket.

Even after all he did,

and he did everything I asked.

No blanket.

That blanket was just

a heart breakin' liar's promise.

Kinda' like those uniforms

the union issued those colored troopers,

that you chose not to acknowledge.

So what you gonna' do old man?

You gonna' spend the

next two or three days,

ignore the n*gger that killed your boy,

Ignoring how I made him suffer?

Ignoring how I made him...

lick, all over my Johnson?

The dumbest thing your boy ever did...

was to let me know...

he was your boy.

Chapter Four

Domergue's Got a Secret

About fifteen minutes has passed,

since we last left our characters.

Joe Gag volunteered

to take Smithers dead body outside.

Straws we drawn to see

who would help him...

O.B. lost.

Chris, John Ruth and Oswaldo,

had vigorous debate about the legality of

self-defense murder they just transpired.

Marquis Warren who is

supremely confident about the

legality of what just

transpired, ignored them

sat at a table by himself

and drank brandy.

Captain Chris Mannix dawn

the dead Generals coat and

joined Oswaldo in lighting

the candles and lanterns.

Hey Ozzy,

hey you got the right idea.

Let's light this place up.

John Ruth held the door close,

waiting for Joe Gage and O.B. to return.

Bob enjoyed an manzana roja.

Domergue, however,

hasn't moved from her spot at the community

dinner table since John Ruth uncuffed her.

John Ruth...

Yeah?

Can I play that guitar over there?

Let's go back a bit.

Your boy, black dudes dingus in his mouth.

Fifteen minutes ago Major Warren shot

General Smithers in front of everybody.

But fourty seconds before

that, something equally

as important happened, but

not everybody saw it.

While Major Warren was

captivating the crowd

with tales of black d*cks

and white mouths...

somebody... poisoned the coffy.

He did everything I asked, no blanket.

And the only one to see 'em do it...

was Domergue.

That's why this chapter is called...

Domergue's Got a Secret.

John Ruth.

Yeah.

Can I play that guitar over there?

Yeah.

You come back with anything

else but a guitar.

My pistol plays a tune.

Domergues death march, you got it?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I got it.

That's the one you like to sing

in the stagecoach, huh?

Yeah.

It's kinda' pretty.

- Got another verse to it?

- Yeah I got.

Go ahead, sing it.

Gimme that guitar!

Music time's over!

Turn around.

- No, no, no, no, no.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, shut up!

When you get to hell, John.

Tell 'em Daisy sent ya'.

Mannix the coffy!

Oh my god!

Gimme that f***ing gun!

Don't test me, b*tch.

Everybody get your back sides up

against that back wall over yonder.

Goddamit-

Get or don't get, Joe Gage.

It's up to you.

- I'll get.

- Then get.

You too, Senor Bob.

Everybody turn around

and put your hands on that wall.

Move 'em down snowshoes.

Everybody keep your mouth

shut and do like I say.

You open your mouth; you

gonna' get a bullet.

You move a little sudden, a little strange;

you gonna' get a bullet.

Not a warning, not a question;

a bullet.

You got that?

- Let me hear you say, "I got it".

- "I got it".

- "I got it" - "I got it".

- We have it.

Chris Mannix,

come over here on this side.

Come on.

Take this gun out of my holster.

Point it at them.

Like I said, anybody does anything.

And I mean, anything.

Kill 'em.

So...

you finally decided I'm tellin' the truth

'bout bein' the sheriff of Red Rock, huh?

I don't know 'bout all that.

But you ain't the killer

who poisoned that coffy.

'cos you almost drunk

it your own damn self.

But one of 'em is.

Gimme the key.

Gimme the key!

You motherfucking black bastard!

You're gonna' die on this mountain

and I'm gonna' f***ing laugh when you do!

What I say 'bout talkin?

'Meant it, didn't I?

And you need to understand,

you just killed the only

man here, comitted to gettin'

you to Red Rock alive.

Now, one of y'all...

is workin' with her.

Or two of y'all is workin' with her.

Or all y'all is...

but only one of you poisoned the coffy.

So what charms this b*tch got,

take a man brave a blizzard,

kill in cold blood, I'm

sure I don't know.

But John Ruth's trying to hang your woman,

so you kill him... okay- maybe.

But O.B. wasn't hangin' nobody.

He damn sure would.

But he sure enough led over there

dead now, though, ain't he?

He damn sure is you

sons of b*tches.

Just like any one of us

who'd drank that coffy.

Like me god damnit.

Now those of y'all with

your hands on the wall

don't practice in poison

need to think about that.

Think about how that coulda' you

been you rollin' around on this floor.

And about the men standin' next

ta' ya' would be responsible.

And I know who I got my money on. Yeah

that's right Joe Gage I'm lookin' at you.

Not so fast Chris.

We'll get there.

Let's slow it down.

Let's slow it way down.

Who made the coffy?

He did.

- Yeah, he did, didn't he?

- Yeah, he did, didn't he?

But it's the stew that's got me thinking.

How long you say Minnie been gone?

A week?

Si.

See, my mama used to make stew.

And it always tasted the same,

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