Episode #4 “Here Was a Man”

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(Bella Union, a card game is under way between Wild Bill Hickok and Jack McCall. Joanie Stubbs is the dealer)

Jack: I raise a hundred.

Wild Bill: Back a hundred.

Jack: That man’s overplayin’ his hand. I… (Pushes chips forward) Whatever the fuck I got left.

Joanie: (To Hickok) Four twenty back to you. (Hickok lays cards on the table)

Jack: As advertised. You got more nerve than sense, huh, Bill?

Joanie: (To McCall) What have you got?

Jack: (Throws cards on table) Man stays on fours. And they call this a game of skill? Well, you gutted me, didn’tcha, Bill? You sonofabitch.

Cy: (Comes over, whispers) You were told about that talk.

Wild Bill:(Slides a single chip across the table) Go eat, Jack.

Jack: Alright. I thank you for that kindness. You just bought yourself somethin’ with that. (Gets up and walks out)

Cy: (Whispers to Eddie) Some boys just can’t go near a cliff without jumpin’ off.

Wild Bill: Twenty to the dealer. Much appreciated.

Joanie: Any ideas for the rest?

Wild Bill: I believe I’ll stay with cash.

(Night, and Bullock is working on the hardware store. Hickok is passing in the street)

Wild Bill: Montana.

Seth: No rest for the wicked.

Wild Bill: Well, what are you doin’ up?

Seth: Well, it’s cooler workin’ now. Quieter. Sorry you had to listen to them drunken fools before, Mr. Hickok, when you and Mr. Utter was helpin’ us?

Wild Bill: I come through unharmed. And “Bill”’d be easier on my nerves. “Mr. Hickok” makes me look for the warrant in your hand.

Seth: Alright.

Wild Bill: “Montana” Ok with you?

Seth: The only other nickname I ever had was “Sloth.”

Wild Bill: Don’t seem to fit.

Seth: Choice was among the seven sins. I guess I got out before the others surfaced.

Wild Bill: Camp looks like a good bet.

Seth: My wife and boy are with her people in Michigan. I hope I can bring ‘em out soon.

Wild Bill: They’ll get the Sioux making peace. Pretty quick you’ll have laws here and, every other damn thing.

Seth: I’d just settle for property rights.

Wild Bill: Will ya? I’m recently married myself.

Seth: Is that so?

Wild Bill: The Missus operates a circus. She’s in Cincinnati. Waiting for word of my success.

Seth: Sol and I put our last sifting cradle aside for ya. Why don’t you go ahead and use it, Bill.

Wild Bill: What slows me down is thinking about freezing my balls off in a creek for the cocksuckers I’d lose the gold to at poker. I’m flat out tired.

Seth: Turn in. I got her covered.

Wild Bill: I believe I will. ‘Night, Montana.

Seth: ‘Night, Bill.

Wild Bill: My pop called me “Kite.” (waves)

(Bill’s room at the Hotel.)

Utter: I’s supposed to leave for Cheyenne two damn hours ago.

Wild Bill: What kept ya, Charlie?

Utter: You don’t fuckin’ sleep! I don’t know what the fuck is happenin’ to you, Bill.

Wild Bill: So ya stayed in camp to tuck me in.

Utter: If ya don’t wanna prospect, I can put ya in charge of that mail route I’m gettin'.

Wild Bill: I’m doin’ what I wanna do.

Utter: Bullshit!

Wild Bill: Some goddamn time, a man’s due to stop arguin’ with hisself. Feeling he’s twice the goddamn fool he knows he is, because he can’t be something he tries to be every goddamn day, without once getting to dinner time and not fucking it up. I don’t wanna fight it no more. Understand me, Charlie? And I don’t want you pissing in my ear about it. Can you let me go to hell the way I want to?

Utter: (With his back to Hickok, nods.) Yeah. I can do that. (Gets up to leave)

Wild Bill: Good luck in Cheyenne.

Utter: Good luck to you too, Bill.

(Morning. Al is watching Dan leading a horse back to camp, with Brom’s body slung over it.)

EB: You know me, Al. I don’t scrutinize or second-guess. Hm. Ha. If you wanted to explain why I’m to buy the Dude out of a worthless claim I’d surely listen.

Al: Jesus Christ.

EB: What is it?

Al: The Dude musta had some kind of accident.

EB: (With Al at the window) My word.

Al: Looks dead, don’t he?

EB: Yes.

Al: See my reasoning was, get the Dude his money back. Keep him from askin’ in the Pinkertons.

EB: Appears now that’s unnecessary.

Al:Make the offer to the wife.

(Alma Garret has seen Dan bringing back Brom’s body from her window. She makes herself a drink. Knocking at door. She opens the door, and Dan is there. Alma walks past Dan , goes downstairs and into the street wearing only her nightgown .

(Back at the Gem)

EB: Al? Once that dope fiend, throws her skirts over her head and hightails back to New York, you think she’ll give one wet fart about what happened at this camp? Let alone send the Pinkertons out. And twenty thousand’s a lot of money.

Al: Let me tell you. Several things, EB: First, twenty thousand dollars is a lot of money. Second, it’s my…fucking…money. Third, the widow being a dope fiend might let matters rest. But Fourth, when this camp has a lot more to offer me than twenty thousand dollars as long as I don’t get killed by the fucking Pinkertons, why take the chance?

Go see to the grieving fucking widow.

EB: Alright, Sir.

(Alma approaches Brom’s body, places her hand on his head. Dan is standing near, EB approaches.)

EB: Mrs. Garret? What a tragic turn. Do you require Doctor Cochran? To treat your terrible grief.

Alma: Yes. I would like to see the doctor.

EB: Of course, who wouldn’t? I’ll get him right away.

Alma: Ask him? Before he sees me please, to examine my husband’s injuries. I’d like his opinion on how they were sustained.

EB: I assume your husband died in a fall.

Alma: All I asked you to do was to get the goddamned doctor.

EB: Of course, Madam.

(Alma comes back to Dan.)

Alma: Is that what happened, Mr. Dority? A tragic turn? A terrible accidental fall?

Dan: I’m sorry, ma’am.

Alma: Oh, yes. (Goes back inside)

EB: (To the horse) Come on, Stupid.

(Bullock, still working, sees EB bearing Brom’s body away.)

(At the Gem, Dan speaking with Al.)

Dan: She wouldn’t have nothin’ to do with me, Al. She told EB, to have Doc go over the body. You think he smells the gold?

Al: Nah. EB’s too busy sniffin’ what he can steal being go-between. Whereas you, Dan,

You show me foresight and loyalty, the way you handled makin’ the find.

Dan: Just know when I’m outta my depth.

( Doc Cochran’s)

EB: Amateur. Comes on a lark to dabble, and falls to his death from a ridge. Yet the widow suspects foul play. (Doc and EB carry the body to a bed inside) I know Al wants her leaving here with as least of a sour taste in her mouth as possible, Doc.

Doc: Well, wouldn’t you expect her husband’s death to be sour on her tongue no matter how it happened. (Examining the body)

EB: Question’s whether it’s fate she blames, or people in the camp. What’re you lookin’ for?

(Hardware store )

Sol: Mornin’, Seth. When’d ya get up?

Seth: I didn’t go to sleep. Woman that newspaper man pointed out to us yesterday just lost her husband.

Sol: Ah, fella bought the gold claim at Swearengen’s saloon?

Seth: Inn keep just took the body down to the Doc’s.

Sol: (Looks up at Seth’s work) You weren’t twiddlin’ you thumbs over night, were ya?

(Doc and EB enter the Grand Central Hotel and go up to Alma’s room.)

EB: I’ve brought the doctor.

Alma: Please come in, Doctor.

Doc: I’m very sorry ‘bout ya husband---

Alma: (Interrupting) Was he murdered, Doctor?

Doc: I was told that he fell from a ridge. He had skull fractures consistent with that. Not been wounded by bullets nor strangled. No other sign of foul play.

Alma: Leaving how he came to fall.

Doc: As to that I have no opinion.

Alma: And yet, in treating me, you were so full of opinion. You took the most comprehensive view.

Doc: I said you needn’t make up symptoms to get the laudanum you want---

Alma: Perhaps you don’t feel, at such perfect liberty to opine, on my husband’s case as you did on mine. Do other considerations constrain you? Do other men?

Doc: I do not know how your husband’s skull got caved in. You’re a bright woman, aren’tcha? Must’ve gone through hell here. (Sits a bottle of laudanum on the table) Go on home, Mrs. Garret. (Doc leaves, closing the door)

EB:(In the hallway, to Doc) What’s her mood? (Doc ignores him)

Alma: (Crying, she has smashed the laudanum on the floor. There is a knock at the door) Who is it?!

EB: Mr. Farnum, Mrs. Garret. May I be of further service?

Alma: Once I’ve determined my plans. I’ll certainly need a coffin.

EB: I’ll see to it.

Alma: Thank you.

(More knocking)

Alma: What is it?!

EB: Would you open the door, ma’am? I’d like to say something to your face. (Alma eventually opens the door) I’m overcome with remorse, Mrs. Garret, that I failed to change the course of events. It was me your husband outbid for the claim. If it will simplify your situation in any way, I renew my offer at twelve thousand. I know it won’t bring him back.

Alma: No. We both know that. You’ll have your answer shortly.

EB: Alright, Madam.

Alma: (After EB leaves, Alma goes to Hickok’s door and knocks. Jane opens the door) Is this Mr. Hickok’s room?

Jane: Who’s askin’?

Alma: My husband’s just died, under suspicious circumstances--

Jane: Suspect someone else. When Bill’s killed a man, he says so and states his reasons.

Alma: I don’t suspect him. My husband had tried to engage Mr. Hickok just before his death, and I thought, though they hadn’t come to terms, perhaps Mr. Hickok would be willing, to advise me on my current situation. I’d pay whatever fee he thought appropriate.

Jane: To talk to ya?

Alma: I’ve no one else in the camp.

Jane: I’ll get him. He’s sleepin’ one off.

Alma: Thank you.

Jane: I’m sorry. About your husband.

Alma: May I ask your name?

Jane: Jane.

Alma: Thank you, Jane.

Jane: Ah, wait in your room. It, it’ll take him a while to get the phlegm situated.

Alma: Alright.

(Bella Union)

Cy: I’m sure you don’t need me explainin’ a place like ours, a Doc in frequent attendance can, sew the seeds of doubt.

Doc: All depends on your standards of hygiene.

Cy: We want ‘em shiny. Make no mistake.

Doc: There’s a wide range of normal.

Joanie: Friday and Saturday mornings and the mid-week day of your choice will be right for us.

Doc: I can, I can work that out.

Cy: So what does Swearengen pay for a visit?

Doc: Twenty dollars for a routine call. All girls in.

Cy: Ah, and what’s his idea of routine? Once every three or four months? Ha. Anyway, how’s ah…fifty dollars a visit sound. Three times a week?

Doc: Done.

Joanie: Lubricants.

Doc: Well, armed and ready, Madam.

(Man walks into the BellaUnion)

Andy Cramed: Thanks very much.

Cy: Howdy.

Andy: Howdy, yourself. You the operator?

Cy: Cy Tolliver.

Andy: Name’s Cramed. I’d like a room. I’d like exclusive use of a safe, and I’d like to shoot some dice.

Cy:  I’d like to think this is the first day of a looooong friendship, Mr. Cramed. We’ll get you a room. If you’ll step into my office, we’ll meet your needs for a safe. Help you with your luggage.

Andy: Suitcases go to the room.

Cy: ‘Spect you’ll keep the valise.

Andy: Keep what you expect to yourself and you’ll improve our chances at that friendship.

Cy: (To Andy, once they are inside his office) Young man.

Andy: How are you, Cy? Done some good work on this place.

Cy: Eddie’s work.

Joanie: Hey, Andy.

Andy: Hello, Sweetheart. So, let’s go. Let’s get something working.

Eddie: We could rob Cy.

Cy: Ha. How ‘bout a bath first and a nap and, some sex with an unfamiliar woman?

Andy: Sure.

Eddie: Signal when ready, Commander.

Andy: If I didn’t make my point, I’d like to get somethin’ fuckin’ workin’.

Eddie: Sure, Andy. (As Andy walks away)

Cy: How’s Andy look?

Joanie: Like he spent three weeks on a wagon.

(Gem)

EB: I’m optimistic, Al. And she’s promised a prompt reply.

Al: I thought she’d say yes on the spot. You did offer her the whole twenty?

EB: How can you even ask me that?

Al: EB?

EB: I offered twelve.

Al: Did I ask you to play her? Can’t you follow one simple fucking instruction?

EB: She will take the twelve, Al, and be happy to get it. And all you’ll have to decide is how much of the eight you saved should go to me.

Al: You’re incorrigible.

EB: I do my best.

Al: Ah, go weigh the twelve. She says yes, there should be something in this for you.

EB: Hint at the amount.

Al: Don’t get ahead of yourself, EB. When she signs the bill-of-sale, you come back here and sign it over to me.

EB: (Snorts, laughs) It is your twelve after all.

Al: Once all that’s done, you should walk out of here with two thousand.

EB: Fair recompense.

Al: For saving me money in spite of myself.

(Grand Central)

Alma: I suggested to my husband just last night that we should try to view our time here as one experience bought at a single price. Even now he’s murdered I feel that. (Turns) To s…to stake the boundaries at, at just that fact is impossible. For, for one, this camp hasn’t any laws or, courts. If it did I’ve no evidence. I, I’d have tried to take the thing all whole if they hadn’t offered on the claim. To receive their money, would be a separate matter, make me an accomplice of another sort.

Wild Bill: How have you been an accomplice ‘til now?

Alma: A wife, inevitably feels, she’s had some part in what befalls her husband. I’m answerable hereafter on different terms. I need, to know what I’d be selling them.

Wild Bill: You don’t believe the money’s to keep the Pinkertons away.

Alma: Why pay me? If it were, a ransom to keep the Pinkertons off, why not pay Brom instead of killing him?

Wild Bill: It’s this saloon operator you think is pulling the strings?

Alma: Al Swearengen. It was, certainly he manipulating Brom.

Jane: The slimy limey cocksucker.

Wild Bill: Alright, ma’am. True sounding’s not guaranteed, but…I’ll try for a feel of the bottom.

Alma: What shall I pay you, Mr. Hickok?

Wild Bill: I prefer you pick the figure.

Alma: Is one hundred dollars enough?

Wild Bill: Perfect.

(Hickok walks downstairs and across to the Gem Saloon. EB follows. Merrick is watching from his table in the hotel restaurant. Once inside the Gem, Hickok goes to the bar.)

Wild Bill: Whiskey.

(Dan brings a shot. Johnny head upstairs EB and Merrick walk in. Then, in Al’s office, we see Al & Leon.)

Al: And how’d they take to the craps game?

Leon: Like chimps at their first fire. (Knocking is heard. Johnny comes in.)

Johnny: Downstairs.

(Downstairs)

EB: Thank you, Dan. (After being poured a drink)

Al: I’m Al Swearengen, Mr. Hickok. In the last few days I’ve been locked in my room weeping, searchin’ my memories, as to where my path might’ve crossed yours previous. And as to how I might’ve given offense, that you stay in this camp not fifty feet from my joint and never once walk in.

Wild Bill: No poker.

Al: Is it that simple? Dan, dismantle the titty corner and set up a poker table.

Wild Bill: Not necessary, Mr. Swearengen.

Al: I always felt poker slows a joint’s action. Been a liquor, pussy, and faro man my entire fucking career. But certain people are due respect.

Wild Bill: This man Garret who fell off the rocks.

Al: The eastern dude.

Wild Bill: His widow’s had an offer on his claim from that innkeeper sitting in the corner. But she’s reluctant to sell. ‘Til she understands what’s behind it.

Al: Why have you asked me?

Wild Bill: She believes you’d know.

Al: Her husband came here with childish ideas. Bought himself a gold claim with me an honest broker. Claim pinches out, which will happen. But he can’t take that like a man, has to blame somebody. Seller’s left camp, so he picks on me. Says he’ll bring in the Pinkertons if I don’t offer restitution. I got a healthy operation and I didn’t build it brooding on the right, and wrong of things. I do not need the Pinkertons descending like locusts. So I bend over for the tenderfoot cocksucker. Reconnoiter your claim fully, I say. And then, if you’re still unhappy I will give you your fucking money back. And the tenderfoot agrees. Just as he’s finishing his reconnoiter, cocksucker falls to his death, pure fucking accident. But up jumps the widow in righteous fucking indignation. Wants the doctor to examine him for murder wounds. My visions of locusts return. I see Pinkertons coming in swarms.

Wild Bill: Commissioned by the widow.

Al: Who I recognize is grieving. And has better intentions probably than her hold on the truth.

Wild Bill: How’s the inn keep come to make the offer?

Al: Under bidder on the sale I brokered. Still believes in the claim.

Wild Bill: Even though the gold is pinched out?

Al: Well, this camps expanding. We’ve already had one hotel close. He sees the property as real estate.

Wild Bill: I’ll take this back to the widow.

Al: I only hope you show it to her in a favorable, fucking light.

Wild Bill: What’s that worth to ya?

Al: What?

Wild Bill: The light I show it in. What’s it worth to you?

Al: Why Wild Bill.

Merrick: (Sitting in the corner at the table with EB) They certainly don’t appear to be at odds.

(Hickock’s room)

Jane: What happened to this little one was the same exact cocksucker. (Alma looks confused) Um, seems he was the one pulling the strings in your husband’s fleecing and gettin’ him killed. This Swearengen operated the road agents that done for this little one’s people.

Alma: Oh, poor child. To lose her family, to see them slaughtered.

Jane: Very same cocksucker.

(Knocking)

Wild Bill: It’s Bill. (Comes in) You stole off on me.

Jane: I had to come in here to look after the little one and I thought she might want me present.

Alma: Yes, I, I’m very grateful.

Jane: Didn’t happen to put one right between the shithead’s eyes now did ya, Bill?

Wild Bill: Unless you need the money right away, Mrs. Garret, I’d defer a decision until someone honest and competent did a second reconnoiter.

Alma: May I commission you?

Wild Bill: Some question my fitness on either count, but I’ll guarantee ya I’m not competent. I do know someone I trust to ask.

Alma: Please do.

Wild Bill: Name’s Bullock. I’ll go talk to him now.

Jane: How’d ya leave it with the cocksucker, Bill?

Wild Bill: On terms he’d understand.

(Al and EB at the Gem)

EB: Al, watchin’ you, even at a distance, was a pleasure and privilege.

Al: If she don’t come back to you with an answer inside an hour, you pay a call on her.

EB: But Hickok’s an ally, right? I mean if that wasn’t a damn ally leavin’, my eyes completely deceived me.

Al: An hour, EB.

EB: Yes, Sir.

(Ellsworth comes into the Gem, goes to the bar)

Ellsworth: Pour me a drink. And ask me the key to a long life.

Dan: What is it?

Ellsworth: Most important human quality for a person to reach old age.

Dan: I’ll buy the drink if you tell me.

Ellsworth: Same as a dog keeps his nose. Don’t poke it where it don’t belong.

Dan: Wise words.

Ellsworth: A lesson hard come by, but thoroughly learned. Somethin’ else I know. My knowin’ what I know, and somebody else knowin’ it, is two entirely different things.

Dan: I’m near losin’ your trail, Ellsworth.

Ellsworth: Say somebody thought I saw somethin’ I shouldn’t have.

Dan: Whereabouts?

Ellsworth: On a ridge. A man, pushed off or whatever the hell else. If it meant my leavin’ camp to prove I could mind my own business, it’d be a friend who told me that. ‘Stead of throwin’ me to the pigs, is my whole philosophy and outlook. Make use of it as you will.

(Tom has joined Al at the bar)

Nuttall: W-Well, well if he, if he was here sealin’ a appearance arrangement then I’m glad it was you that tied him up, Al, and not that new fuckin’ operation. W-What with them fancy signs and cleaned up women, w-where I heard he was gamblin’ all night.

Al: We made no appearance agreement.

Nuttall: Well, uh…you and, you and Hickok--

Al: No.

Nuttall: Oh, I see. Well, I mean because his game at my place yesterday was this far from comin’ to lead. Him and this droop-eyed hooplehead. And I had to shut it down. I mean if that gives him offense or umbrage, well, I mean I can’t worry about his plans, or as far as where he decides to gamble elsewhere, or this new joint overwhelms the camp.

Al: We made no agreement. (At this point Al has already started walk back upstairs)

Nuttall: W-whata you think of the new joint?

Al: Nice sign.

Nuttall: (To himself) This far from fuckin’ gunplay.

(At Nuttall’s #10 Saloon, Jack McCall is at the table with Stapleton and another card player)

Jack: Jack fuckin’ high! That’s what I have. I bet every fuckin’ cent.

Stapleton: Miracle to me is you, sit here braggin’ about it.

Jack: I ain’t braggin’, or braggart, or blowhard. I state a fact. I live by a fact—

Card Player: Anyways, it’s over.

Jack: Yeah, you believe that because you’re a walkin’ fuckin’ cunt. With your cunt, your eye, movin’.

Card Player: No matter how your day’s goin’, Jack, you’re always fun to talk to.

Jack: Gimme a buck then, Lou. You send me off for a meal. Gimme a buck. See which part of you gets shot. Because that—I possess a fuckin’ gun that I didn’t bet.

Stapleton: I’ll pay ya five dollars for that gun sight unseen. ‘Cause what you need Jack is a stake to make your comeback. That’ll getcha out of this, brown study you’re in.

(Con reaches over and pulls a price tag off Jack’s suit)

Jack: What’d you take off of me?

Stapleton: Tag, from your new suit.

Jack: Alright, then.

Stapleton: Name a price. If it’s close to fair I’ll pay it.

Jack: For the suit?

Stapleton: For your gun.

Jack: No, I believe not. I believe no. (leaves hastily)

Card Player: He too is God’s handiwork.

(Tom Nuttall enters and walks over to the card table)

Nuttall: Oh, double fuckin’ solitaire. Where’s your fuckin’ ball gowns? Bring a bunch of chips over here and lets get a poker game goin’! (laughs)

(Seth, Hickok and Sol at the hardware store)

Seth: I don’t know this camp. I’d have to bring someone from Montana.

Sol: Would the widow give it that much time?

Wild Bill: Yeah, she would. She don’t wanna be stupid or fool. Wants to stand up for her husband better’n he stood up for himself. Not that she ought ta stick around.

Seth: Far as that goes, she could sign a proxy.

(Jack McCall has walked by and is standing in the distance watching Hickok.)

Wild Bill: There’s her hundred in it, and what that saloonkeeper gave me, if you’d wanna take it on.

Seth: Alright.

Wild Bill: I guess she’s alright. ‘Til that saloonkeep decides I can’t be trusted to betray her interests.

Sol: Trust ain’t his long suit. She ought ta be lookin’ for a wagon (Climbs ladder).

Wild Bill: Thanks for the favor, Montana.

Seth: Sure.

(Gem Saloon)

Dan: I like Ellsworth, too.

Trixie: There’s a difference between talkin’ a lot, which Ellsworth does enjoy, and oversteppin’ it.

Dan: He don’t get in other people’s business.

Trixie: Then what are we talkin’ about, Dan?

Dan: Well, my own standards as to who’s reliable ain’t the same as Al’s.

Trixie: So Ellsworth has to leave camp over the difference?

Dan: Yeah, he does if it’s that or kill him. He said tell him if those was the choices.

Trixie: Don’t you do it.

Dan: Which?

Trixie: Either.

(The view pans up and then cuts to Al and EB standing near the handrail upstairs.)

Al: Asks a bribe for somethin’ he never intends to do, takes my hundred and fifty, then tells her not to sell.

EB: Why are you so sure he told her not to, Al?

Al: You went back there. You knocked on her door.

EB: She said Hickok reported to her his conversation with you. But she wasn’t prepared yet to give me an answer.

Al: Does this make sense to you, huh? She pays Hickok to come talk to me. He goes back tells her to sell. And then she says she needs more time to make up her mind. HMMM!! That idiot couldn’t put one in his ear.

EB: If you’re talkin’ about Tom Mason, I’d say that’s water under the bridge.

Al: And I’d say Hickok has to die if I have to kill him myself.

EB: Jesus, Al. Jesus. With all that’s goin’ on? I mean how would it sit with the widow, for one thing? How would that dispose her toward us?

Al: Let me pose you a question, EB, you fucking cunt! Someone comes at ya, what’re you supposed to do about it?!

EB: And I’ll pose you a question back, Al Swearengen! If a friend or at least a professional colleague has a mistaken impression of who’s comin’ at him, and who isn’t , what’re ya supposed to do then?! Huh?!

Al: You don’t think he’s comin’ at me?

EB: I don’t think Hickok’s comin’ at ya, Al. No I don’t. I think you’re a man with so many different responsibilities, you sometimes get feelin’ beset. And in that frame of mind, take things personal.

Al: I’d sooner the cocksucker was dead. Simplify workin’ the widow.

EB: We don’t get to choose the world we live in.

Al: Bella Union cocksuckers to worry about and every other damn thing…

EB: You got a full plate.

Al: (Rocking slowly back and forth against the handrail) I need to fuck somethin’. (EB contemplates the floor. Al calls down to the common area floor) Trixie! Hey, hey, hey! Get the bottle.

EB: