Unforgiven Page #8

BARBER:

Don't matter. They burned the table

in '78 for firewood.

ENGLISH BOB:

Ah, I see.

WW has already stepped out and English Bob follows him out

the door.

EXT. BARBERSHOP/MAIN STREET - DAY

English Bob steps out the door.

ENGLISH BOB:

Come on, WW. Let's...

Something's wrong! There is a funny quiet and WW is frozen

like a ramrod. English Bob looks around.

VIEW ON CHARLIE HECKER

Ten yards to Bob's right, pointing a 12 gauge shotgun and

Fatty Rossiter a few feet away pointing his old Enfield.

VIEW ON ANDY RUSSELL

On Bob's left, pale and tense, pointing his Henry, and Clyde

Ledbetter kneeling near him, leveling one of his pistols.

VIEW ON LITTLE BILL

Standing ten yards away in the empty dusty street where the

Fourth of July flags are flapping.

LITTLE BILL:

Hullo, Bob. Boys, this here is English

Bob.

ENGLISH BOB:

(under his breath)

Sh*t and fried eggs.

LITTLE BILL:

Been a long time, Bob. You run out

of Chinamen?

ENGLISH BOB:

(recovering his

composure)

Little Bill, I thought you were dead.

I see you shaved off your chin

whiskers.

LITTLE BILL:

(feeling his chin)

Well, I was always tasting the soup

two hours after I et it.

VIEW ON THE STREET

Empty, silent.

VIEW FACES IN THE WINDOW

Of the Blue Bottle restaurant. EGGS ANDERSON, TOM LUCKINBILL,

MRS. PEEVEY, HOPPITY THOMAS, peering out.

VIEW ALICE, KATE AND LITTLE SUE IN GREELY'S WINDOW

And, in the open doorway, ready to duck for cover, Skinny

and Germany Joe Schultz and PADDY McGEE, the cooper.

VIEW ON ENGLISH BOB

ENGLISH BOB:

What I heard was that you fell off

your horse drunk and broke your neck.

LITTLE BILL:

I heard that one myself, Bob. Hell,

I even thought I was dead til I found

out it was just I was in Nebraska.

(pause)

Who's your friend?

ENGLISH BOB:

WW Beauchamp... Little Bill Daggett

and... "friends."

WW:

(nervous)

From N-n-newton?... and H-hays and

Aa-Abilene?

ENGLISH BOB:

(dryly)

The same.

Charley is taking all this in wide-eyed.

LITTLE BILL:

You work for the railroads too, Mister

Beauchamp?

WW:

(scared to death)

N-no. I wr-wr-wr-write... I wr-

wrwrite...

LITTLE BILL:

Letters?

ENGLISH BOB:

Books. He's my biographer.

LITTLE BILL:

(fighting amazement)

Oh.

And WW is reaching for a pocket.

VIEW:

Andy and Charley and Clyde and Fatty tensing to fire.

VIEW ON ENGLISH BOB

ENGLISH BOB:

I wouldn't do it, WW.

WW freezes, terrified... and a puddle of urine forms at his

feet.

WW:

It's only a b-b-b-book...

LITTLE BILL:

(his pistol half-drawn)

A book, huh?

(returning his pistol

and glancing at the

piss)

I guess that means you can read...

An' I guess you boys seen them signs

about surrendering your firearms...

But then, like you told old Andy

there, you ain't armed, are you,

Bob?

ENGLISH BOB:

Not really...

(shrugging)

Maybe a couple of Peacemakers...

(bargaining)

I imagine you could overlook those,

eh, Bill? If you didn't see them...

or hear them?

LITTLE BILL:

(cold as ice)

I guess not, Bob. I don't like guns

around.

With a sardonic glance at the arsenal trained on him English

Bob gives a shrug and holds open his coat in surrender,

exposing two fancy holstered pistols.

Little Bill gives Andy a head signal and Andy steps forward

and takes the pistols from English Bob's holsters.

LITTLE BILL:

Charley, see what kind of "books"

Mister Beauchamp is packing... but

watch you don't get wet.

ENGLISH BOB:

(to Andy)

Be careful with those, sonny.

Onlookers are stepping out of doorways now and moving timidly

into the street forming a large semi-circle. The whores are

among them.

CHARLEY:

No sh*t, Little Bill, all he's got

is this here book.

Charley holds up a dime novel with a lurid cover showing a

gentleman in a top hat protecting a woman with his body while

firing two pistols at seven disheveled looking "Western

types." The title is "The Duke of Death."

LITTLE BILL:

(reading with effort)

The... Duck of Death.

WW:

D-d-d-duke. The D-d-duke of Death.

English Bob starts to go but Little Bill puts a hand on his

shoulder.

LITTLE BILL:

Give me the .32, Bob.

Furious, English Bob turns and looks into Bill's eyes and

then, seeing no alternative, opens his vest exposing a small

pistol.

ENGLISH BOB:

You leave me at the mercy of my

enemies.

LITTLE BILL:

(taking the pistol)

Enemies, Bob? You been talking about

the Queen again? On Independence

Day?

A lot of the tension has gone out of the occasion and the

crowd is beginning to murmur and people are starting to move

and a couple of kids are running when suddenly...

CRUNCH! English Bob's face seems to cave in with the force

of Little Bill's fist and Bob literally flies backward and

slams into the side of the barber shop.

VIEW:

Alice gasping... Andy's jaw drops...

Little Sue's eyes bulge... Charley gulps.

VIEW ON ENGLISH BOB

Slumped against the wall, blood pouring from his unhinged

jaw, amazed.

ENGLISH BOB:

Wh... what...?

Little Bill walks calmly up to him and WHAM... kicks him

hard in the chest.

VIEW SILKY:

Having a hard time swallowing and Mrs. Peevey turning away

and Eggs horrified and Alice's scared face.

VIEW ON ENGLISH BOB

Bloody, on all fours, pulling a knife from his waistcoat...

but the whole effort is painful and hopeless. He hasn't a

chance.

Little Bill looks down at him for a moment from his enormous

height, watching the smaller man's pitiful effort, then

SLAM!... Little Bill kicks him in the ribs hard and you can

hear air going out of Bob, and Bill steps hard on Bob's knife

hand and the bones crunch loudly.

VIEW:

WW, white as a ghost and Andy is trying not to vomit. There

is the sound of another brutal blow.

VIEW:

English Bob on all fours in the dusty street now, barely

conscious.

KA-WHUMP! Little Bill kicks him again, not angrily, but hard.

LITTLE BILL:

I guess you think I'm kickin' you,

Bob... but it ain't so.

(WHAM, another kick)

What I'm doin' is talkin', hear? I'm

talkin' to all them villains down in

Kansas an' them villains in

Cheyenne...

(WHUMP)

Lettin' em know there ain't no whores'

gold...

Little Bill turns and looks hard at the whores and Alice is

sick from the violence and Little Sue is biting her lip and

Silky has tears in her eyes.

LITTLE BILL:

(turning back to Bob

and kicking him)

...an' how if there was... how they

wouldn't want to come lookin' for it

anyhow.

Little Bill looks down with eyes as cold as ice and English

Bob grovels in the bloody dust, barely conscious.

EXT. OPEN COUNTRY - DAY

Open country under a hot sun and Munny and Ned riding their

horses at a walk and the saddles creaking and birds chirping

in the five foot high grass. It is late morning in Northern

Kansas and they have been riding since dawn, mostly in

silence, but Ned has something on his mind and he glances at

Munny and frowns and then finally he blurts his question.

NED:

Say, Bill... You ever... ever go

into town... an' all?

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