Garimpeiros (13)
Dead Count:
Episode #19:Charlie Manuel: Shot by brother Mose for refusing to sell out claim to Wolcott.
Crash:
"(Early morning at the camp, we see Al open a door...)
Al: Did you know this fucking walkway connected us?
Merrick: (Sitting below, at his desk at the Pioneer) Several of your patrons, in different stages of undress, have illuminated me.
Al: (Closes door) What happened there? (Walks downstairs)
Merrick: Not only was my press disabled, but my office was ransacked and feces mounded in the corner. A message of objection to my handling of Yankton´s notice on the claims.
Al: Posting rather than publishing, huh?
Merrick: The camp´s new school teacher, a lovely woman, was so traumatized by what happened that she left!
Al: Cy Tolliver.
Merrick: Who didn´t even trouble, when confronted, to deny it.
Al: (Sits, lets out a sigh) Why ain´t you up and running again?
Merrick: I´m in despair. The physical damage is repairable, but the psychic wound may be permanent.
Al: (Leans forward, concern on his face.) You ever been beaten, Merrick?
Merrick: (Rolls his eyes) Once, when I thought I had the smallpox, Doc Cochran slapped me in the face. (Al slaps him quickly) Ah! (He stares at Al, touching his cheek - he leans forward) Stop it, Al.
Al: Are you dead?
Merrick: Well, (touches cheek) I´m in pain, but no, I´m obviously not dead.
Al: And obviously you didn´t fucking die when the Doc slapped you.
Merrick: No.
Al: So including last night, that´s three fucking damage incidents that didn´t kill you. Pain or damage don´t end the world, or despair or fuckin´ beatin´s. The world ends when you´re dead. Until then, you got more punishment in store. Stand it like a man-and give some back.
(Merrick´s eyes meet Al´s - Al gets up, still staring at Merrick as he leaves.)
[...]
Cy: Movin´ somewhat rheumatic, young man.
Jewel: God, he´s always draggin´ that fuckin´ leg.
Al: (looking at Jewel) Early morning fuckin´ chill. (He leans on the bar)
Cy: In which our Deputy Sheriff Utter just kicked the living crap out of a citizen.
Al: How does that impinge on men like us? (We see E.B. casually eavesdropping.)
Cy: Man beaten is Chief Geologist in the Hearst operation.
Al: Hearst of the Comstock.
Cy: Hadn´t you heard at all they were around?
Al: Wrong response no matter what the fuckin´ provocation.
Cy: (chuckling) Amen, brother.
Al: (Eyes E.B.) How do you suggest we proceed?
Cy: (leans in close) Maybe convene with Bullock and Utter, discover the details. Let it be known that´s the wrong ox to gore.
Al: I´ll put together a sit-down. (Cy nods, turns, and leaves. Dan approaches Al.)
[...]
(Meeting at the Gem! Johnny, of course, is passing out the beloved peaches. Cy, Al, Bullock, Sol, Charlie, Doc and Tom Nuttall are seated at the table, Dan and Johnny are watching.)
Cy: In the thoroughfare this mornin´, an event transpired which cannot be repeated. As the apostle had it, time´s past for acting like infants. I assume Mr. Utter was provoked, yet for the sake of us all, the man that provoked him, employed by who he is, cannot be fucking beaten.
Tom: What was the provocation?
Charlie: Hearst´s man stepped on my foot.
Cy: Stepped on his foot.
Al: Well, maybe, Cy, Mr. Utter would want to tell us about a wagon drive he took last night and who was in concealment at the behest of that whore used to work for you, and how the morning´s shit-kicking resulted.
Cy: The background of the beatin´ ain´t the point, no more than the incident´s particulars, or how offensive if I knew them I might find the details personally, the Hearst interest requires special treatment. And we can face up to that like men or get steamrolled by the fuckin´ alternative.
Seth: Which is what?
Cy: Which is them pissed off they ain´t gettin´ treated special. Replacin´ us that don´t with those who fuckin´ will.
Tom: Did he condescend, Deputy, to your yelp of fucking pain?
Cy: Jesus Christ (Waving it off, he chuckles and stands) Jesus fuckin´ Christ! I don´t care what brought it on. Say it as murder, or more `an one. (Al looks interested) George Hearst´s Chief Geologist don´t get convicted of any crime in any court convened by humans. (Seth looks at Charlie) They´ll buy the judge, and if they can´t, they jury or witnesses. If not, they´ll start into killin´. What the fuck are we talkin´ about? Why would we want to know?
Al: Well, Cy...(eats a peach) all that geologist did was step on Utter´s foot.
Cy: Are we fuckin´ done here? `Cause if you people ain´t, I fuckin´ am! (Takes a bowl of peaches and slams it upside-down on the table. Johnny looks dismayed.)
Al: If Hearst´s geologist ain´t pursuing remedies and Utter ain´t, that leaves you speaking for the camp. (He looks to Seth - Seth looks at Charlie, Charlie looks away, Seth looks back to Al and shakes his head "nah." Al slams his fist on the table.) Adjourned!
Doc: (to Charlie) He wants to talk to you.
Charlie: Who?
Doc: Wolcott.
Charlie: We transacted our bidness.
Doc: He says he has Hickok´s last letter. If you see him, he´ll give it to you. (Doc heads for the door, Cy by his side.)
Cy: Did I hear you say Wolcott wants to see Utter?
(Charlie leaves. Seth and Tom enter the thoroughfare.)
[...]
(Al is in his room, staring at a shot glass, leaning against his bed facing his office.)
Al: A man, as it happens a rival of mine, learning the secret of a great man´s lieutenant, would make that lieutenant his slave. My rival knows that expanding the circle of the informed, dilutin´ his power, will confound his intention, so he takes precaution to be sole sharer of his secret. (chuckles) Then the world being the world...(drinks) along comes a half-assed knight-errant, Utter, Hickok´s ex-partner, to put all my rival´s plans at risk. I´d seek audience with Utter, verify my thinking. He earns his bread shipping packages. And as the dimwit nobility that made him intercede may now make him reticent, you, Chief, will be my prop and ploy. Whilst I seek to draw him out. (He walks over to the chair in front of his desk, a package on it. He sets his shot glass down on the desk and sits in a neighboring chair.) I congratulate myself on having kept you around. Why make a show of disposing of you was my fucking thinking. (Pours another shot) It´s not like we need the storage space. And if there´s a chance in a thousand you people have been praying right, (looks up) why get your bosses attention? (drinks) Anyways, I´ve no plans of us partin´ company. (He gets up, takes the package by a rope handle) As you will note...I have inscribed - (opens door) no address. (He leaves)"
Deadwood Transcripts
posted by Luís Miguel Dias domingo, abril 30, 2006
