Oblivion

Goddamn vulture.

- -

Miss Kitty.

Mr. Gaunt.

You're the only one who's ever happy to see me.

Everyone is dead when they see you.

Have you ever considered the possibility, Mr. Gaunt,

that people don't welcome you 'cause you scare the shit out of 'em?

I mean, when you show up, people die.

It's not cause and effect, Marshall.

I simply have a knack for being in the right place at the right time.

I'll raise you...

- A hundred. - Fifty.

- A hundred. - Fifty.

Redeye.

Get the hell out of here. Move!

Dead man's hand.

They say on Altearth that Wild Bill Hickok was holding aces and eights...

when he was shot... dead.

Superstitions from some old planet light-years away.

- Right, Marshall? - Whatever you say, Miss Kitty.

Meow!

Well, I say, dump this card game, come upstairs with me,

and we'll play some strip poker.

It's the only game I love to lose.

Oh, I had 'em sharpen just for you.

Marshall Stone! Stone, get your ass out here!

I'm calling you out, Stone.

What's the matter? Not man enough to face me?

Or maybe you're too much man.

Too much human.

We all know what gutless cowards humans are, don't we?

Ah.

I'll be waiting.

Come on, Marshall. We've got better things to do.

It's a matter of respect, Miss Kitty.

Some things cannot be ignored.

Don't worry.

I won't hurt him.

Right there will do just fine.

You got a problem, Redeye?

Yeah! Yeah, I got a problem. You, Marshall.

That won't be a problem much longer.

You are a sick individual.

Damn right I am. I'm sick of you.

I'm sick of the Galaxico. I'm sick of the guild. I'm sick of all this crap!

But I got me heavy-caliber vaccine to cure my ills.

- Is that a fact? - Definitely.

Lights out, Marshall.

Nice catch.

Practice makes perfect.

Sh-- sh-- sh--

I guess the force field wasn't working up to snuff today.

You son of a bitch!

Not so fast, half-breed.

Boys.

Much better.

Won't be needing this anymore.

No point in my messing up such a prime pussy as yourself.

- - Bork.

Attend to deputy Stell Barr, would you, please?

So much for guild interference.

Thanks to that load of daconium we found, this town's up for grabs.

And I know who's going to be the biggest grabber.

Great. Just what I needed-- more gold.

It's a good day to die.

For scorps, maybe.

For what purpose am I saved? I have nothing.

Well, if you have nothing, then you don't have to worry about losing what you got.

You are wrong.

There's no death to be reached when one cannot sink lower.

Well, things could be worse.

So live. Who are you?

Zack. Zack Stone.

Zack Zack Stone,

either untie me or kill me.

Just stop talking.

That was a pretty nasty scorp heading your way.

Lucky for you it was a baby.

The adults usually wait for nighttime to forage.

What's your name?

- I am Buteo. - Buteo.

Let's get some water inside you, Buteo, and then you--

No. No drink, no food.

Not until I have buried my family.

We got to plan our next moves carefully.

Just 'cause the Marshall's dead don't mean this town rolls over.

He's right. We can't simply shoot everyone.

Now that the Marshall's dead...

and that cyborg deputy of his is no problem,

as long as we have our stash of daconium,

we're gonna show the good people of Oblivion...

the great advantages to a town run by Redeye...

- and his dedicated associates. - Hear, hear!

Associ-whats?

Gangs, Bork.

Oh. Right. Excuse me, Bork.

I have hemorrhoids smarter than you!

Huh?

Spanner, you'll work the town.

Be charming. Be polite.

Be sympathetic.

We point out the guild was choking us with their rules and restrictions anyway.

Keep Bork with you as backup...

just to remind folks who the muscle is around here.

Wormhole, spread the word of what's happened.

Head out to the last stop cantina at the outskirts of the badlands...

and then make your way back to Oblivion.

No problem, rojo ojo.

Oh, sorry.

Lash, you just be yourself.

We just might have one...

teeny, weeny problem.

I hear Stone has a son out prospecting somewhere.

Hasn't been back to Oblivion in years, from what they say.

You don't think I should be concerned with him, do you?

I don't think you... should be concerned...

about anyone.

All of you on your way.

Lash, there's a few things I think we ought to take care of.

I was thinking the same thing.

Move!

Oh!

Mmm!

Aren't you going to ask me to be gentle?

You've got to be kidding.

Well, I...

got the sonic protectors up.

That'll keep the night scorps away.

You wanna talk about it?

No.

Okay.

I'll just keep asking till you do.

Killed my wife,

my children.

They took everything.

Even a mere talisman of mine which is useless to them...

but has been in my family for generations.

Now all that is left to me...

is this.

- That locket? - It contains the rays, yes.

My wife made this for me.

It is the first bit of daconium we ever found.

Now it is the last that I own.

- No, I couldn't. - Do not insult me.

It is yours.

Who did this to you?

I only saw one of them clearly since it was so dark.

If I see him again, however,

he will die.

- That's pointless. - Pointless?

My family's spirits cry out to be avenged.

Vengeance is a hollow pursuit.

It will not bring your family back to life.

As you wish.

What is it?

A man is coming this way.

You can tell that just by looking into your cup?

The liquid.

Reflections are magic if you know how to read them.

- So who is this visitor? - He is the one called Gaunt.

Gaunt? The funeral man?

Must be because he found me.

Gaunt only appears before death, not after.

Then why is he heading here?

Unless one of us is gonna die.

- You would run, Zack Zack Stone? - Well, I should.

Come on. Help me pack this stuff up.

If you run into a den of night scorps,

you will only hasten your fate you seek to flee.

Excuse the intrusion, gentlemen.

Zachary Stone?

- Well, how did you find me? - I looked.

The night scorps did not attack you?

For some reason, they see me...

and simply scatter away.

Odd, isn't it?

I bring unfortunate tidings.

Your father has met an untimely alleviation of existence.

He has shuffled off his mortal coil,

closed the curtain on our veil of tears.

He cavorts with the heavenly choir...