Deadwood

Tuft off a recently decapitated Indian...

25¢.

Authentic heathen hair tufts.

Head brought to camp same day

as Wild Bill Hickok was killed.

25¢ a tuft,

or five tufts for $1.

25¢ a tuft!

Don't miss your chance at a fine souvenir, boys,

authentic heathen hair tufts.

Send them east to friends and family.

And if you was to say in your letter

with the tufts inside it,

it was you who cut the cocksucker's head off,

who'd be there to gainsay it?

Anyone may join the jurors' line.

Only those admitted to the bar

may join the line of candidates

for officers of the court.

Jurors will be drawn from the hat on my right.

Officers of the court, in the box on my left.

I have no say in either outcome,

so please don't try to bribe me.

- Newspaper fella seems a good sort. - He's all right.

How far into the process you think he'll stay involved?

Till them shysters take over.

I don't know what's become of the woman

who was Mr. Hickok's friend.

Probably drunk over his murder.

Well, there's a child to be considered.

And she couldn't be doing better.

Despite her situation.

I don't see your medicine.

No, I broke the bottle.

All right.

- No! - I don't know if this is the time

for you to stop taking this laudanum.

Oh, what a pleasant surprise, Doctor.

to hear you admit the limits of your knowledge.

Have you made any traveI plans?

Before his murder, Mr. Hickok arranged

with a Mr. Bullock to look after my affairs here.

That's good. That'll...

that'll free you up to leave.

25¢, 25¢ a tuft!

Hair from the heathen dead less than one day.

25¢, 25¢ a tuft!

These are good boots you people sold me.

Glad you're satisfied.

Hair from a heathen dead less than one day!

Cut that shit out!

No law against me selling these, mister.

No law either against me breaking your fucking jaw

if you don't quit it!

Put him out here like a goddamned circus freak!

Whoa, I'm not making a penny from this.

People just wanted to pay their respects.

Well, I had him here around the side,

but they knocked the damn tent over.

Man has a powerfuI temper.

That hardware cocksucker's been an ongoing pain in my balls

since him and his partner showed up.

Where do you suppose that heathen's head got to

them tufts of hair came off of, Al?

Yeah, I don't know.

Didn't some Mexican bring the head in for bounty?

If it's important to you, I'll look it up in my yesterday's diary.

Couldn't matter less.

As far as the trial itself,

I got no problem acting as host.

Loss of revenues notwithstanding.

Well, I'm happy to have it at my joint,

but being you're senior in the community,

it seems somehow... out of place.

Anyways, we'll have it here.

But just let me say this once in your hearing.

For outright stupidity,

the whole fucking trial concept goes shoulder to shoulder

with Custer's thinking when he headed for that ridge.

It's got its disadvantages.

We're illegal.

Our whole goal is to get annexed to the United States.

We start holding trials,

what's to keep the United States Congress from saying,

"Oh excuse us, we didn't realize

you were a sovereign community and nation out there.

Where's your cocksucker's flag?

Where's your fucking navy or the like?

Maybe when we make our treaty with the Sioux,

we should treat you people like renegade Indians,

deny your gold and property claims and hand everything over instead

to our ne'er-do-well cousins and brother's-in-law"?

That we don't want.

But, if we're gonna have the fucking thing,

might as well have it in my joint, huh?

Tom Smith of Lead!

Juror number seven!

- How's business? - Hot and cold.

Struggling to get our craps concept off the ground.

That's the way with any new idea.

- Takes the hoople-heads time to adjust. - SamueI Smith.

Sometimes I wish we could just hit 'em over the head,

rob 'em and throw their bodies in the creek.

But that would be wrong.

Jay Johnson, Spearfish.

Juror number 10!

- Mr. Bullock? - Doc?

I just seen Mrs. Garret.

I've got a proxy for her to sign.

You oughta go ahead and get that done

so she can go ahead and leave camp.

Anything else on your schedule I'm behind on?

No, sir.

I will now draw from the lawyers' business cards in the box,

the presiding magistrate, prosecutor

and counseI for the defense.

After that part's over,

and not prejudging the evidence...

why don't we try the cocksucker at my place?

Second.

Officers of the court, magistrate...

There's a cripple who'd do,

if I could pry her from Mr. Swearengen.

How much money would loosen his grip?

More likely Al would bridle at breaking his routine.

He likes to berate the gimp mornings.

I cannot see to this child.

She needs someone less distracted.

I wish to see you extricated

from all these complications and difficulties, Mrs. Garret,

- as much as you do yourself. - Oh, thank you, Mr. Farnum.

And in that regard, wonder if you've

decided on my bid for your claim yet?

- Are you Mr. Bullock? - Yes.

I'm Alma Garret.

How do you do?

Please excuse me. I'm spread so thin with my cook out.

I got this for you to sign.

Have you a pen at the desk, Mr. Farnum?

Certainly.

Several days ago I watched you and Wild Bill Hickok

support each other in a gunfight from the window in my room.

Later, when Mr. Hickok

spoke so highly, Mr. Bullock, I-

I imagined it was you.

Mr. Bullock has authority to act

on my behalf on all matters relating to the claim.

I see.

In case you couldn't, I thought I'd tell you.

WonderfuI. One load off your back.

Let me see about getting you that cripple.

- Is he dead or alive? - He's sick.

And we ain't no hospital!

Number eight's relocating.

Bundle him up, put some of Leon's remedy down him

and take him to the hills.

Can someone else do it, Mr. Tolliver?

Sure they can.

Shall I get someone else to take him?

No, I'll do it.

And burn the blanket afterwards.

Thanks, Bart.

Some do get well, Cy.

His chances will improve outdoors.

The bracing air.

What are you moving the tables for?

You said you wanted the jury right here.

Can't they sit at separate tables?

Do you want the tables together or not?

I don't want anything done that can't be undone

five minutes after this fiasco concludes.

Clean somewhere where I can't see you.

Go on, get fucking!

Have patience with the widow, Al.

She's give her proxy to that hardware fella.

Hickok breaks my balls from the afterlife.

You feeI before he was murdered,

Hickok enlisted Bullock in the widow's cause?

Advance the subject or pick up a broom.

Signing a proxy don't mean the widow can't do a deal.

It just includes Bullock in.

If the widow trusts her own judgment,

she don't let Hickok bring the hardware cocksucker into it.

She's trying to get off the dope.

Maybe loaded

she'd get her self-confidence back.

Let me camp beneath her window and suggest that.

Hickok's half-woman friend's off somewheres on a tear.

The orphan squarehead's in the widow's care.

The widow feels put upon.

She's asked me to find her some help.

I suggested the gimp.

No!

So as not to put a whore up first off.

Now, I will propose Trixie.

As a get-acquainted gift,

she could bring the widow a good-sized ball of dope.

Yes.

Well thought through, E.B.

Tell the widow you have a candidate.