The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean Page #4

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and feed him to the buzzards.

Before I do, I want to eat breakfast.

I've ridden a long way

and amassed a powerful hunger.

Now, listen.

You tell him...

to prepare to go to Hell!

I will send him there directly. Now, git!

But what about my toe?

Now they match.

Cook him for me. Smother him in onions.

- How do you want your horse?

- Blue.

Bean!

Beano!

It's me, Bob!

Bad Bob!

I've come here to shoot your eyes out.

And then I'm going to take

my ivory-handled knife...

and cut your head off and sell it

to a friend of mine in a carnival.

It is my intention, Beano,

to rid the ground of your shadow...

and take my pleasure upon this town.

I have one thing to add.

Lillie Langtry is a pig-faced whore,

b*tch, dog.

And I wouldn't waste my bullet on her,

let alone my seed.

Do you hear, Beano?

I'm ready, Beano.

Come and get it, Beano.

Come on, Beano!

Come and get it! I'm ready for you, Beano!

Judge!

He's dead. He sure is.

He was shot in the back.

Who cares if he's shot in the back

or the front.

As long as the son of a b*tch is dead.

You done it, Judge. You killed Bad Bob.

You call that sporting?

It weren't a real standup fight.

Standup? I laid down to steady my aim.

I mean, he never had a chance.

Not at all. Never did, never would have.

I didn't ask him to come here.

I don't abide giving killers a chance.

He wants a chance,

let him go someplace else.

Shame to end so glorious a career

in such a manner.

Says in the Bible, Bobbo...

Psalm 58.

"The righteous are going to rejoice

and triumph over the wicked...

"whose teeth are blunted like lions...

"and they get carried away

by whirlwinds and such...

"while God judges on this earth

through me. "

I reckon poker had as much to do

with winning the West...

as Colt's. 45 or the prairie schooner.

As played in the Jersey Lily,

it required boundless courage...

unerring judgment, and soaring faith.

It was more a religion than a game.

The Judge considered himself

a past master...

but then I never knew a Texan who didn't.

- Two.

- Call.

I'll call, and raise you $2.

I'll call...

and I'll raise you $23.

- That leaves me out.

- Excuse me, sir.

I believe that I'm addressing...

the supposed Judge Roy Bean, am I not?

Whatever you're selling, I don't want it.

We don't cotton to drummers around here.

I'm Frank Gass, an attorney-at-law.

I'm not a drummer.

You in or out?

I call and raise you $10.

I represent the estate

of Charles F. Booker...

late of St. Louis, Missouri...

who was the previous legal owner

of this property...

and all the land

extending in a 100-mile radius.

I'll call you, and I'll raise you.

This silver-plated Bulldog pistol worth $10,

I would say.

I am now the present owner.

I call.

Thought I was bluffing, didn't you?

Take a look.

A little queen-high straight.

You ain't going to appreciate this, Judge,

but I caught me a flush. Lookie.

Beer, Tector.

Excuse me, sir, I really don't...

Don't you have better sense...

or manners...

than to disturb a man

who's deciding whether to raise or call?

Do you know there's a city ordinance

against disturbing a man...

who's deciding whether to raise or call?

It's a misdemeanor.

You could be shot for it.

- Here you are, Whorehouse.

- Thank you, Judge.

That'll be $25.

$25?

Yeah, when I ain't winning, the beer's $25.

That ain't sporting.

What is a man supposed to do?

Start losing or quit drinking.

Now, hear this, sir.

I hold in my possession a grant of land...

issued by the King of Spain

for the aforementioned property.

Miss Lillie knows

some of them kings of Spain.

It came into my possession

as payment for the Booker estate.

You don't say?

Provisions for grants of land

are made in the statutes of the State.

- Do you have a book of law here?

- Of course.

- Give it to me.

- Open for $2.

- Thank you.

- I'll see that and raise you.

That's a law book, not a salt lick.

I'll call that...

and raise you $19.

- Too stiff for me, Judge.

- I'm out.

- I raise you $50.

- That's too rich for my blood.

$50?

I don't got $50.

Here it is. Now you just start reading that.

Article 48, section F.

That's a bad law. I just repealed it.

That is outrageous.

$50?

I call.

- How many?

- Got a pat hand.

So do I.

I have, how do you say,

a full house, aces over.

Now you see here, Judge Roy Bean...

I will not be bandied around

and treated in this manner.

I'm an influential man,

and I have powerful friends.

So have I.

I'd like you to meet one of them.

What...

- Tector!

- Let me go!

Watch your step there, young fellow.

Just watch your step.

- There you go.

- Where are you taking me?

There you go.

Get me out of here!

Help! Let me out of...

I'm going to be eaten alive!

He'll kill you first, then he'll eat you.

Last time that bear ate a lawyer

he had the runs for 33 days.

No! If only you'd just let me go.

- Here.

- I don't want your money.

It just might be a good idea

to feed that bear a bottle of beer.

It keeps him occupied.

Beer's a dollar a bottle.

A dollar a bottle? You call that justice?

Justice is the handmaiden of law.

You said

law was the handmaiden of justice.

- I'm going to be eaten alive!

- Works both ways.

After the passing

of approximately 93 bottles...

the Judge and I came to an arrangement.

Since I had only $9 left...

I was in a poor bargaining position.

It seemed that the Judge

found me valuable...

in defending prisoners

who had financial resources elsewhere.

A spirited defense

might unearth these resources.

I agreed to split the fees 60/40.

I soon had

a burgeoning law practice established.

But I never forgot

what that egomaniac had done to me.

I intended to repay the Judge

in full someday...

and I had allies.

And your hat, it's ravishing.

Absolutely ravishing.

It's good to see you. Good morning, ladies.

An act of God, like the Grand Canyon.

Haven't you two had enough

for one night?

It's way past my bedtime. I'm going home.

The ancient Greeks...

worshipped at the feet of Aphrodite.

They loved mortal women as well.

The same goes for me.

Good night, Judge.

And her.

And Miss Lillie.

Get out of that bucket!

You drink beer, not a bear that eats glue.

It's uncivilized.

A man has two loves:

an unattainable goddess...

and a mortal woman.

And he loves the mortal woman

twice as much...

for having worshipped Lillie Langtry.

You, Bear.

I'll have your head, is what I'll have.

I don't want to hear that!

I don't! Don't you give me any back talk.

Rather have your tail kicked.

Skin you alive, use you for a doormat.

Your heart's blacker than your hide.

You're no gentleman, never was.

Shame on you, Judge!

Quarreling with a bear!

You see what he did to Miss Lillie?

He defiled her.

He licked her dear face.

Breathed on her...

with his beer-fouled breath.

On that night,

an historic and tragic attempt...

was made on the Judge's life.

No one had ever seen

the assassin before...

or knew his motives.

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