Who's that stumbling around in the dark?
State your business or prepare to get winged!
Calm yourselves, gentlemen.
I mean you no harm.
I'm simply a fellow weary traveler.
Oh boy.
Good cold evening, gentlemen.
I'm looking for a pair of slave traders
that go by the name of the Speck Brothers.
Might that be you?
Who wants to know?
Well, I do.
I'm Dr. King Schultz. This is my horse, Fritz.
What kinda doctor?
Dentist.
Now, are you the Speck Brothers?
And did you purchase those men
at the Greenville slave auction?
So what?
So I wish to parley with you.
Speak English.
Oh sorry.
Please forgive me. It is a second language.
Now, amongst your inventory, I've been led to believe,
is a specimen I'm keen to acquire.
Hello, you poor devils!
Is there one amongst you who was formerly a resident
of the Carrucan plantation?
I'm from the Carrucan plantation.
Who said that?
What's your name?
Django.
Then you are exactly the one I'm looking for.
Do you know who the Brittle Brothers are?
Who are they?
Big John.
Ellis.
Roger.
Sometime they call him...
Lil Raj.
They was overseers at the Carrucan plantation.
Not anymore.
Tell me...
if you were to see any of these three gentlemen again,
would you recognize them? Hey.
Stop talking to him like that.
Like What?
Like that.
My good man, I'm simply trying to ascertain...
Speak English, goddamn it.
Everybody calm down.
I'm simply a customer,
trying to conduct a transaction.
I don't care.
No sale. Now, off with you.
Don't be ridiculous. Of course they're for sale.
Move it.
My good man,
did you simply get carried away with your dramatic gesture
or are you pointing your weapon at me with lethal intention?
Last chance, fancy pants.
Oh, very well.
I'm sorry to put a bullet in your beast,
but I didn't want you to do anything rash
before you had a moment to come to your senses.
You goddamn son of a bitch!
You shot Roscoe! Well...
And you killed Ace!
I only shot your brother once he threatened to shoot me.
And I do believe I have... one, two, three, four...
five witnesses,
who can attest to that fact.
Damn leg's busted!
No doubt.
Now, if you could keep your caterwauling down to a minimum,
I'd like to finish my line of inquiry with young Django.
God-fucking-damn it!
As I was saying...
if you were to see the Brittle Brothers,
again you could recognize them?
Yeah.
Sold American!
So, Mr. Speck?
Mr. Speck? How much for young Django here?
That iron is nasty business.
Oh, could you hold this for a moment?
Thank you.
Django?
Get up on that horse.
Also, if I were you,
I'd take that winter coat the dear departed Speck left behind.
Nigger!
Don't you touch my brother's coat.
Goddamn it!
One hundred...
ten...
20...
and five...
for young Django here.
And since he won't be needing it anymore,
I'd like to purchase your brother's nag.
Also,
Mr. Speck,
I'm afraid I will require a bill of sale.
Do you have one?
You go to hell, dentist.
I thought not.
No worries.
I come prepared.
Thank you.
This will serve nicely,
as a bill of sale.
Now, as to you poor devils.
So, as I see it,
when it comes to the subject of what to do next,
you gentlemen have...
two choices.
One.
Once I'm gone,
you could lift that beast off the remaining Speck,
then carry him to the nearest town.
Which would be at least 37 miles back the way you came.
Or two.
You could unshackle yourselves,
take that rifle,
put a bullet in his head,
bury the two of them deep,
and then make your way to a more enlightened area of this country.
Choice is yours.
And on the off chance there are any astronomy aficionados amongst you,
the North Star is that one.
Tada.
Now wait a minute, fellas.
Let's talk about this!
You got to be reasonable in a situation like this!
I'm not a bad guy. I'm just doing my job!
Blueberry,
didn't I give you my last apple?
Tell you what, boys.
Take me to the doc in El Paso,
I'll get you your freedom.
No. No, please...
Alright, now.
I'd like you to take two of these tonight,
and then in the morning...
That's a nigger on a horse.
What's everybody staring at?
They ain't never seen no nigger on a horse before.
Good morning, innkeeper!
Two beers for two weary travelers.
It's still a bit early.
We won't be open for another hour.
By then, we'll be serving breakfast.
What the hell you think you're doing, boy?
Get that nigger outta here!
Help! Help!
Innkeeper!
Remember,
get the sheriff, not the marshal.
Sheriff! Help!
Alas.
Now we must act as our own bartender.
Sit down, my boy.
What kind of dentist are you?
Despite that cart, I haven't practiced dentistry in five years.
But these days, I practice a new profession...
bounty hunter.
Do you know what a bounty hunter is?
No.
Well...
the way the slave trade deals in human lives for cash,
a bounty hunter deals in corpses.
Hat.
Prost.
The state places a bounty on a man's head.
I track that man, I find that man, I kill that man.
After I've killed him, I transport that man's corpse back to the authorities.
Sometimes that's easier said than done.
I show that corpse to the authorities,
proving yes, indeed, I truly have killed him,
at which point the authorities pay me the bounty.
So,
like slavery, it's a flesh for cash business.
What's a bounty?
It's like a reward.
You kill people?
And they give you a reward?
Certain people, yeah.
Bad people?
Badder they are, bigger the reward.
Which brings me to you.
And I must admit, I'm at a bit of a quandary when it comes to you.
On one hand, I despise slavery.
On the other hand,
I need your help.
If you're not in a position to refuse, all the better.
So, for the time being,
I'm gonna make this slavery malarkey work to my benefit.
Still,
having said that,
I feel guilty.
So,
I would like the two of us to enter into an agreement.
I'm looking for the Brittle Brothers.
However, at this endeavor,
I'm at a slight disadvantage,
insofar as I don't know what they look like.
But you do.
Don't ya?
I know what they look like alright.
Good.
So here's my agreement.
You travel with me until we find them. Where we going?
I hear at least two of them are overseeing up in Gatlinburg,
but I don't know where.
That means we visit every plantation
in Gatlinburg till we find them.
And when we find them,
you point them out,
and I kill them.
You do that,
I agree to give you your freedom,
$25 per Brittle Brother.
That's $75.
And as if on cue,
here comes the sheriff.
Ok, boys.
Fun's over.
Come on out.
Alright folks,
calm down.
Go about your business.
These jokers will be gone soon.
Now,
why you all wanna come into my town and start trouble?
Scare all these nice people.
You ain't got nothing better to do,
than to come into Bill Sharp's town
and show your ass?
What'd you just do to our sheriff?
Now you can get the marshal.
Marshal!
Should we wait inside?
Can we just leave?
After you.
Move that buckboard a long ways across the street from the saloon.
I want six men, six rifles behind it.
I want two men, two rifles up on this roof.
Two men, two rifles on that roof.
All the barrels aimed at that front door.
Somebody get poor Bill outta the goddamn street.
You in the saloon!
We got a hundred rifles aimed at every way out of that building.
You got one chance to get out of this alive.
You and your nigger come out right now with your hands over your head,
and I mean right now.
Is this the marshal I have the pleasure of addressing?
Yes, it is.
This is U.S. Marshal Gill Tatum.
Na wunderbar, marshal.
I have relieved myself of all weapons,
and just as you have instructed,
I am ready to step outside
with my hands,
raised above my head.
I trust as a representative
of the criminal justice system of the United States of America,
I shan't be shot down
in the street by either you or your deputies
before I've had my day in court.
You mean like you did our sheriff.
Shot him down like a dog in the street.
Yes, that's exactly what I mean.
Do I have your word as a lawman,
not to shoot me down like a dog in the street?
Well,
much as we'd all enjoy seeing something like that,
ain't nobody gonna cheat the hangman in my town.
Fair enough, marshal.
Here we come.
They're a little tense out there.
So don't make any quick movements, and let me do the talking.
Come ahead.
You unarmed?
Yes, indeed we are.
Marshal Tatum,
may I address you and your deputies,
and apparently the entire town of Daughtrey,
as to the incident that just occurred?
Go on. Thank you.
My name is Dr. King Schultz.
Like yourself marshal, I'm a servant of the court.
The man lying dead in the dirt,
who the good people of Daughtrey saw fit to elect as their sheriff,
who went by the name of Bill Sharp,
is actually a wanted outlaw by the name of Willard Peck,
with a price on his head of $200.
Now that's $200, dead or alive.
The hell you say!
I'm aware this is probably disconcerting news.
But I'm willing to wager,
this man was elected sheriff
sometime in the past two years?
Yeah.
I know this, because three years ago,
he was rustling cattle from the B.C.
Corrigan Cattle Company of Lubbock, Texas.
Now this,
is a warrant,
made out by Circuit Court Judge,
Henry Allen Laudermilk of Austin, Texas.
You're encouraged to wire him.
He'll back up who I am,
and who your dear departed sheriff was.
In other words marshal,
you owe me $200.
I'll be damned.
After this Brittle business is behind us,
you'll be a free man,
with a horse,
$75 in your back pocket...
What's your plan after that?
Find my wife,
and buy her freedom.
Django,
I had no idea you were a married man.
Do most slaves believe in marriage?
Me and my wife do.
Old Man Carrucan didn't, that's why were.
We run off.
Django.
Django, Django.
You got sand, Django.
Boy's got sand.
I got no use for a nigger with sand.
I want you to burn a runaway R right here on his cheek.
And the girl, too.
And I want you to take them to the Greenville auction,
and sell them.
Both of them.
Separately.
And this one...
you will sell him cheap.
In Greenville...
there should be some sort of a records office.
You know when she was sold...
you know where she came from,
and you know her name.
What is her name?
Broomhilda.
What?
Broom-hilda.
Broomhilda?
Were her owners German?
Yeah, how you know?
She wasn't born on the Carrucan plantation.
She was raised by a German mistress,
the Von Shafts.
She speak a little German, too.
Your wife?
When she was little, her mistress taught her so she'd have somebody
to speak German with.
Well, let me get this straight.
Your slave wife speaks German,
and her name is Broomhilda Von Shaft?
Yep.
They call me Hilda.
When we gain access to these plantations,
we'll be putting on an act.
You'll be playing a character.
No?
During the act,
you can never break character.
Do you understand?
Yeah.
Don't break character.
And your character is that of The Valet.
What that is?
That's a fancy word for servant.
Valet?
And now Django,
you may choose your character's costume.
Youse gonna let me pick out my own clothes?
But of course.
It's against the law for niggers to ride horses in this territory.
This is my valet. My valet does not walk.
I said niggers on horses... His name is Django.
He's a free man.
He can ride what he pleases.
Not on my property.
Not around my niggers, he can't.
My good sir,
perhaps we got off on the wrong boot.
Allow me to unring this bell.
My name is Dr. King Schultz.
This is my valet, Django.
And these are our horses, Tony and Fritz.
Mr. Bennett?
I've been led to believe,
that you are a gentleman,
and a businessman.
And it is for these attributes we've ridden from Texas to Tennessee
to parley with you now.
I wish to purchase one of your nigger gals.
You and your Jimmie,
rode from Texas to Tennessee
to buy one of my nigger gals?
No appointment, no nothing?
Oh, I'm afraid so.
Well, what if I was to say I don't like you?
Or your fancy-pants nigger?
And I would not sell you a tinker's damn.
Now what you got to say about that?
Mr. Bennett.
If you are the businessman I've been led to believe you to be,
I have,
5,000 things I might say that could change your mind.
Well, come on inside and get yourself something cool to drink.
Oh, maybe,
while we discuss business, you could provide
one of your loveliest black creatures
to escort Django here around your magnificent grounds.
Oh, well, absolutely.
Betina.
Yessir, Big Daddy?
What's your Jimmie's name again?
Django. Django.
Betina sugar,
could you take Django there
and take him around the grounds here and show him all the pretty stuff.
As you please, Big Daddy.
Oh, Mr. Bennett,
I must remind you,
Django is a free man.
He cannot be treated like a slave.
He... within the bounds of good taste,
he must be treated as an extension of myself.
Understood, Schultz.
Betina, sugar? Yes'm?
Django isn't a slave.
Django is a free man, you understand?
You can't treat him like any of the other niggers around here,
because he ain't like any of the other niggers around here.
You got it?
You want I should treat him like white folks?
No.
That's not what I said.
Then I don't know what you want, Big Daddy.
Yes,
I can see that.
What's the name of that peckerwood boy
from town that works with the glass?
His mama work over at the lumberyard.
Oh, you mean Jerry.
That's the boy's name. Jerry!
You know Jerry, don't you, sugar?
Yes'm, Big Daddy.
Well, that's it, then.
You just treat him like you would Jerry.
That house we just left from is The Big House.
Big Daddy call it that because it's big.
That there is the pantry.
That's where Big Daddy hang all his dead meat.
Po' little squirrels.
What you do for your massa?
Didn't you hear him tell you I ain't no slave?
So you really free? Yes, I's free.
You mean you wanna dress like that?
Betina, I need to ask you something.
What you want?
I'm looking for three white men.
Three brothers. Overseers.
Their name is Brittle.
You know them?
Brittle? Yes, Brittle.
John Brittle, Ellis Brittle,
Roger Brittle,
sometime called Lil Raj.
I don't know them.
They could be using a different name.
They woulda come to the plantation this past year.
You mean the Shaffers?
Maybe.
Three brothers?
They here?
Could you point one of them out to me?
Well, one's over in that field.
Old Man Carrucan ain't gonna appreciate this, now.
She work in the house, John.
You could mess her skin up,
and you gonna mess her up, and she ain't gonna be worth...
She ain't gonna be worth a damn thing.
Now, your Bible say...
Look, I told you that I was one that made her do it.
You ready?
She didn't wanna run off with me.
If anybody should be getting whupped now, it should be me.
It should be me, John.
Now, I been here long enough,
you know me, you know me a long time, now.
You know Massa Carrucan ain't gonna appreciate this.
She's a... she's a house slave.
She a house slave, she can't be...
On my knees.
I'm asking you this, please. Ain't this what you want?
I'm keeping it funny for you. Now, John, please.
Is on my knees, John.
I like the way you beg, boy.
Is that who you was looking for?
Yep.
Where the other two at?
They by the stable,
punishing Little Jody for breaking eggs.
They whipping Little Jody?
Point me in that direction.
You go to that tree
and keep going that a way.
Go get that white man I came here with.
Come on, now. No, no, please!
Come on, girlie. Please!
Come on. Get you set up now.
And the Lord said, The fear of ye...
and the dread of ye...
shall be on every beast of the earth.
Come here now, woman!
You'd better give me that arm! No please!
No! No!
Ok, she's ready!
And after this,
we'll see if you break eggs again.
John Brittle!
You remember me?
I like the way you die, boy.
Goddamn son of a bitch!
Keep it funny!
Y'all wanna see something?
No!
Who were they?
That's Big John.
That's Lil Raj.
Where's Ellis?
He's the one high tailing it across that field right now.
You sure that's him? Yeah.
Positive? I don't know.
You don't know if you're positive? I don't know what positive mean.
It means you're sure. Yes.
Yes, what? Yes, I'm sure that's Ellis Brittle.
I'm positive he dead.
Django!
Everybody calm down.
We mean no one else any harm.
Who are you two jokers?
I am Dr. King Schultz,
a legal representative
of the criminal justice system of the United States of America.
The man to my left,
is Django Freeman. He's my deputy.
In my pocket is a warrant,
signed by Circuit Court Judge Henry Allen Laudermilk of Austin, Texas,
for the arrest and capture,
dead or alive,
of John Brittle,
Roger Brittle and Ellis Brittle.
They were going by the name Shaffer.
You know them by the name of Shaffer, but the butchers' real name, was Brittle.
These are wanted men.
The law wants them for murder.
Now I reiterate,
the warrant states dead or alive,
so when Mr. Freeman and myself executed these men on sight,
we were operating within our legal boundaries.
I realize,
passions are high,
but I must warn you,
the penalty for taking deadly force
against an officer of the court in the performance of his duty is...
you'll be hung by the neck until you're dead.
Now, may I please remove the warrant from my pocket so you may examine it?
Gve me.
Satisfied?
May I have that back, please?
Get off my land.
Posthaste.
Load up the bodies as quickly as you can
and let's get outta here.
Yeah,
that's them sons-a-bitches.
Come on, men!
We're coming for you, nigger!
Now, unless they start shooting first,
nobody shoot them.
That's way too simple for these jokers.
We're gonna whup that nigger-lover to death.
And I'm gonna personally strip and clip that garboon myself.
Damn.
I can't see fucking shit outta this thing.
We ready or what?
Hold on, I'm fucking with my eyeholes.
Oh shit.
I just made it worse.
Who made this goddamn shit?
Willard's wife.
Well, make your own goddamn masks!
Look,
nobody's saying they don't appreciate what Jenny did.
Well, if all I had to do was cut a hole in a bag,
I coulda cut it better than this!
What about you, Robert?
Can you see?
Not too good.
I mean,
if I don't move my head I can see you pretty good,
more or less.
But when I start riding, the bag's moving all over,
and I'm riding blind.
Shit. Yeah.
I just made mine worse.
Oh, God.
Anybody bring any extra bags?
No!
Nobody brought an extra bag.
I'm just asking.
Do we have to wear them when we ride?
Oh, well, shitfire!
If you don't wear them as you ride up, that just defeats the purpose!
Well, I can't see in this fucking thing!
I can't breathe in this fucking thing and I can't ride in this fucking thing!
Well, fuck all you all! I'm going home!
Now, I watched my wife work all day getting 30 bags together
for you ungrateful sons-a-bitches,
and all I can hear is criticize, criticize, criticize!
From now on,
don't ask me or mine for nothing!
Now look,
let's not forget why we're here.
We got a killer nigger over that hill there!
And we got to make a lesson out of him.
Ok, I'm confused.
Are the bags on or off?
I think,
we all think,
the bag was a nice idea.
Yeah.
But, not pointing any fingers,
they coulda been done better.
So, how about...
no bags this time,
but next time,
we do the bags right,
and then we go,
full regalia.
I like that idea a lot. You get my vote, Robert.
Wait a minute!
I didn't say no bags.
But nobody can see.
So?
So it'd be nice to see.
Goddamn it!
This is a raid!
I can't see, you can't see!
So what?
All that matters is can the fucking horse see!
That's a raid!
Sons of bitches!
I can't see shit!
There he is!
Get that nigger out from under that wagon!
And get that nigger lover outta the wagon!
That nigger ain't down here, Big Daddy!
What? They tricked us!
Well, where are they?
Auf Wiedersehen.
Bull's-eye.
Look at them run.
Yeah, cowards tend to do that.
Goddamn it!
Would you care to?
Can't see shit outta this!
He's getting away. I got him.
Big Daddy's getting away.
I got him.
Got him.
The kid's a natural.
How you know Broomhilda's first masters was German?
Broomhilda is a German name.
If they named her, it stands to reason they'd be German.
Lots of gals where you're from named Broomhilda?
Broomhilda,
is the name of a character
in the most,
popular of all the German legends.
There's a story about Broomhilda?
Oh, yes, there is.
Do you know it?
Oh, every German knows that story.
Would you like me to tell you?
Well,
Broomhilda,
was a...
princess.
She was a daughter of Wotan,
god of all gods.
Anyway,
her father is really mad at her.
What she do?
I can't exactly remember.
She disobeys him in some way.
So he puts her on top of the mountain.
Broomhilda's on a mountain?
It's a German legend,
there is always going to be a mountain in there somewhere.
And he puts a fire-breathing dragon there to guard the mountain.
And he surrounds her,
in a circle of hellfire.
And there,
Broomhilda shall remain.
Unless,
a hero arises brave enough to save her.
Does a fella arise?
Yes Django,
as a matter of fact he does.
A fella named Siegfried.
Does Siegfried save her?
Quite spectacularly so.
He scales the mountain,
because he's not afraid of it.
He slays the dragon,
because he's not afraid of him.
And he walks through hellfire...
because Broomhilda's worth it.
I know how he feel.
I think I'm just starting to realize that.
Now,
look,
Django...
I don't doubt that one day you'll save your lady love...
but I can't let you go to Greenville in a good conscience.
A slave auction town in Mississippi
isn't the place for you to visit.
Free or not,
it's just too dangerous.
But let me ask you a question.
How do you like the bounty hunting business?
Kill white folks and they pay you for it?
What's not to like?
Now I have to admit, we make a good team.
I thought you was mad at me for killing Big John and Lil Raj.
Yeah, on that occasion you were a tad overzealous,
but normally, that's a good thing.
How'd you like to partner up for the winter?
What you mean partner up?
You work with me through the winter till the snow melts...
I give you a third of my bounties.
So we make some money this winter,
and when the snow melts,
I'll take you to Greenville myself,
and we'll find where they sent your wife.
Why you care what happen to me?
Why you care if I find my wife?
Frankly...
I've never given anybody their freedom before.
And now that I have,
I feel vaguely responsible for you.
Plus when a German meets a real life Siegfried, that's kind of a big deal.
As a German, I'm obliged to help you on your quest
to rescue your beloved Broomhilda.
You got her.
What happened to Mr. I Wanna Shoot White Folks For Money?
His son's with him.
Well, good.
He'll have a loved one with him.
Maybe even share a last word.
That's better than most of them get.
Damn sight better than he deserves.
Put down the rifle.
Don't worry, I'm not mad at you.
Let's take out Smitty Bacall's handbill.
Read it aloud.
Consider that today's lesson.
Wanted. Dead or alive.
Smitty Bacall and the Smitty Bacall g...
Gang. Gang.
For murder and stagecoach...
Robbery.
Seven-zero-zero-zero.. Seven thousand.
Thousand.
Seven thousand
Dollars,
for Smitty Bacall.
One...
thousand and five hundred dollars for...
each of his...
gang...
Mem... Members.
Known members of the Smitty Bacall Gang are as follas.
Follows. Follows.
Dandy Michaels,
Gerald Nash and...
Crazy Craig Koons.
That is...
who Smitty Bacall is.
If Smitty Bacall wanted to start a farm at 22,
they would never have printed that.
But Smitty Bacall wanted to rob stagecoaches
and he didn't mind killing people to do it.
Do you want to save your wife,
by doing what I do?
This is what I do.
I kill people,
and sell their corpses for cash.
This corpse is worth $7,000.
Now quit your pussyfooting and shoot him.
Pa?
Pa!
Here.
You need to keep this Smitty Bacall handbill.
Why?
It's good luck.
You always keep the handbill of your first bounty.
That's accurate.
Doctor, Django,
how the hell are you?
Who the hell-a you got there?
The Wilson-Lowe Gang.
Who the hell is the Wilson-Lowe Gang?
Bad Chuck Wilson and meaner Bobby Lowe
and three of their acolytes.
Well, just leave them out here, they ain't going nowhere.
Why don't you come in then out of the snowy snow
and get yourselves some coffee.
We had a birthday yesterday. Got some cake.
Pretty good.
Keep moving.
Get on up on that auction block.
Don't let that mud slow you down. Keep going.
Keep going!
Broomhilda Von Shaft.
Age 27.
'R' on right cheek.
Calvin Candie.
He owns the fourth biggest cotton plantation in Mississippi.
Candyland.
Candyland?
Oh, so you've heard of it.
Ain't no slave ain't heard of Candyland.
Well apparently, that's where your wife is...
and that's the repellant gentleman who owns her.
Let's just hope she works in the house, not in the field.
Oh, no, she ain't no field nigger.
She... She pretty.
And she talk good, too.
But when they tore her back up and then they...
burned that runaway r on her cheek...
they goddamned her.
She ain't no field nigger but she ain't good enough
for the house no more either.
They gonna try to make her a comfort girl.
What's a comfort?
Not while I got freedom.
Not while I got my gun.
So do we offer to buy her?
So...
say...
a man,
wants to buy a horse.
Needs to buy a horse.
He walks up to the farmer's farm,
and he knocks on the farmer's door
and asks the farmer to buy his horse.
And do you know what the farmer says?
The farmer says, no.
Well, I say fuck that farmer,
and I'm stealing that horse.
Fair enough. But now you're a horse thief,
and they hang horse thieves.
Not to mention the horse goes back to its original owner,
because the horse is still his property.
We need her,
and...
we need a bill of sale.
Well, if we ain't gonna try to buy her, then how we gonna get her?
May I offer an alternative plan of action?
Go ahead.
So...
the man,
walks up to the farmer's farm,
he knocks on the farmer's door...
and asks,
not to buy the horse,
but the farm.
And makes an offer so ridiculous,
the farmer is forced to say yes.
We gonna offer to buy Candyland?
No, it's far too big.
But apparently this farmer ain't all about the farm.
How much do you know about Mandingo fighting?
What?
Can you convincingly masquerade as someone
who is an expert on Mandingo fighting?
Why?
Because my character
is that of a big money buyer from Dusseldorf,
here in Greenville to buy my way
into the Mandingo fight game.
And your character
is a Mandingo expert I hired to help me do it.
They call that One-Eyed Charley.
Bonjour. Good morning
Bonsoir, Good evening,
ma petite femme noire. my little black woman.
We're here to see Mr. Calvin Candie.
Entraz.
Thank you.
You want me to play a black slaver?
Ain't nothing lower than a black slaver.
A black slaver is lower than the head house nigger...
and buddy, that's pretty fucking low.
Then play him that way.
Give me your...
black slaver.
Dr. Schultz!
Good to see you again!
Mr. Moguy.
Thank you for your assistance in creating the opportunity
for this appointment. Nonsense, it's my job.
So this is the One-Eyed Charley I've heard so much about.
Yes, this is Django Freeman.
Django, this is Mr. Candie's lawyer, Leonide Moguy.
Just call me Leo.
Calvin's in the Julius Caesar room. You all wanna follow me?
How long have you been associated with Mr. Candie?
Calvin's father and I were about...
11 when we went to boarding school together.
Calvin's father's father put me through law school.
One could almost say I was raised to be Calvin's lawyer.
One could almost say youse a nigger.
What did you say?
I said... Nothing, he's just being cheeky.
Anything else about Mr. Candie that I should know before I meet him?
Yes, he is a bit of a Francophile.
What civilized people aren't?
And he prefers Monsieur Candie to Mr. Candie.
Si c'est cela qu'il prefere. Whatever he prefers.
He doesn't speak French.
Don't speak French to him, it'll embarrass him.
Get back on top, now! Turn around!
There you go.
Why do you want to get in the Mandingo business?
You don't intend to allow your second to make the proper introductions?
Quit stalling, now.
Answer the question.
The awful truth?
I'm bored.
This seems like a good bit of fun.
Well, come on over.
We got us a fight going on that's a good bit of fun.
Won't you accompany me to the bar?
You don't wear a hat in the house, white man.
Even I know that.
Dr. Schultz. What a rare pleasure.
Keep fighting, niggers.
And I might add, an honor.
Honor to meet you.
Please have a seat, the pleasure's all mine.
Get free man Django here whatever he wants.
And I'll have sweet tea and bourbon.
Use your weight boy, use your weight!
There you go.
He's much bigger and stronger!
Come on, now!
He's not doing what I told him, for God's sakes.
Bravo Luigi, così e dai. Good Luigi, go on.
Devi essere più rapido. Be more faster.
Come on, now, boy! It's a fight to the death!
You either hit him or are you ain't?
Ecco I con la spola tappeto. Make the carpet shuttle.
La spola tappeto giù! The carpet down!
Big Fred, come on!
Turn him around! Now...
Use your strength, boy!
Come on, now! Use your strength!
There you go!
Look at that.
See, I told you to put some more power in there.
Do what I told you, boy!
There you go!
No! Do what I told ya!
Blind him black, boy! Blind him black!
Oh, no, Luigi.
Finish him.
Go on, boy, finish him!
That's why they call him Big Fred.
Worth every penny.
Well, arrivederci, Luigi.
Come on up, now, boy. Get yourself a rest.
You did a fine job. A real fine job.
Mercedes.
Tequila.
What's your name?
Django.
Can you spell it?
D-J-A-N
G
O
The D is silent.
I know.
Umberto, andiamo. Umberto, let's go.
Mr. Moguy,
want you to take care of my new boy here.
You find him a room with a soft bed,
then you bring him up a pony to lick his pole.
But you be ready to travel to Candyland tomorrow morning, now, ya hear?
Yessir, Monsieur Candie.
Before you go Roscoe,
get Fred here a tall beer.
You enjoy that, boy.
You've earned it.
Yes sir.
What's your name, boy?
His name is Django Freeman.
Where'd you dig him up?
A fortuitous turn of events brought Django and myself together.
I've heard tell about you.
I heard you been telling everybody them Mandingos ain't no damn good.
Ain't nothing nobody is selling is worth buying. I'm curious...
what makes you such a Mandingo expert?
I'm curious what makes you so curious.
What did you say, boy? Calm down, Butch.
No offense given...
none taken.
Monsieur Candie...
I'd appreciate if you could direct your line of inquiry toward me.
One...
you do not have anything to drink. Can I get you a tasty refreshment?
Yes!
I'll have a beer. Wunderbar.
Roscoe, a beer for the man with the beard,
and I will have a Polynesian Pearl Diver.
Do not spare the rum.
Doc.
I am a seasoned slaver.
You are well,
you are a neophyte.
I'm simply trying to ascertain if this cowboy here,
is taking advantage of you.
With all due respect,
Monsieur Candie...
I didn't seek you out for your advice.
I sought you out to purchase a fighting nigger
at above top-dollar market price.
Now I was under the impression, when you granted me an audience,
it would be to discuss business.
Well, we weren't talking business yet.
We were discussing my curiosity.
Thank you.
Roscoe,
Coco, go outside and play.
Sheba...
you stay right there.
I know you didn't mean me.
Prost!
German.
Now, according to Moguy,
if I do business with you,
I'm doing business with both you all.
He does the eyeballing, you the billfold?
Is that it?
Well, you don't make it sound too flattering,
but more or less, yeah.
So...
Bright Boy.
Moguy tells me you looked over my African flesh
and you was none too impressed?
Not for top dollar.
Well, then, we got nothing more to talk about.
You see, you wanna buy a beat-ass nigger from me,
those are the beat-ass niggers I wanna sell so...
He don't wanna buy the niggers you wanna sell.
He wants the nigger,
you don't wanna sell.
I don't sell,
the niggers, I don't wanna sell.
Well,
you won't sell your best.
You won't even sell your second best.
But your third best?
You don't want to sell him either.
But if I made you an offer so ridiculous you'd be forced to consider it...
who knows what could happen?
And what do you consider ridiculous?
For a truly talented specimen,
the right nigger?
How much would you say, Django?
$12,000.
Well, gentlemen,
you had my curiosity,
but now you have my attention.
Willie.
Hold up! Hold up.
Good morning, gentlemen.
Good Dr. Schultz.
Beautiful morning, isn't it?
You couldn't have picked a better one.
Please, won't you take a ride with us here in the Victoria.
Oh, thank you very much.
You can tie your horse up back there.
Django.
Where I part company from many of my phrenologist colleagues
is I believe there is a level above bright,
above talented,
above loyal that a nigger,
can aspire to.
Say, one nigger that just...
pops up in 10,000.
The exceptional nigger.
Bright day, Bright Boy?
Sun is up.
Shining on all of us.
Have a seat, doc.
Thank you.
Quite an honor.
The honor is all ours.
Thank you, but I do believe,
that given time,
exceptional niggers like Bright Boy here...
become if not frequent...
more frequent.
Bright Boy,
you are that one in 10,000.
The name of the game is keep up,
not catch up, nigger.
Touch your guns, you die. Everybody, calm down!
Now I saw the whole thing. No harm done.
Are you kidding me?
This nigger just... I said no harm done!
Now take your hand off your pistol!
Butch,
that means you too.
Everybody stop antagonizing my guest.
Hoot!
Get back up on your horse.
He broke my collarbone!
For God's sake, somebody please
help Hoot here back up on his goddamn horse.
Yes sir, boss.
Oh, now you are one lucky nigger.
You better listen to your boss, white boy.
Oh, I'm gonna go walking in the moonlight with you.
You wanna hold my hand?
Willie,
take us home.
Start moving!
Head them out!
You got a problem with your eyeball, boy?
No, sir.
You want a boot heel in it?
No, sir.
Then you keep your goddamn eyeballs off me.
You flash that bad look at me again, I'll give you a reason not to like me.
Now move, nigger!
You niggers are gonna understand something about me.
I'm worse than any of these white men here.
You get the molasses out your ass, you keep your goddamn eyeballs off me.
He is,
a rambunctious sort, ain't he?
Indeed.
May we stop for a moment so I may put a word in my man's ear?
You know, I'm expecting to fall in love once I see the specimens at Candyland,
so before that moment,
it would be good if I could have
a confidential strategy meeting with my...
confidant.
You mind telling me what the hell you doing?
I confirmed that Broomhilda's at Candyland.
You're sure it's her?
He didn't call her by name,
but she's a young lady,
whip marks on her back and speaks German.
Now, while it's not wise to assume,
in this instance, I think it's pretty safe.
Point being,
don't get so carried away with your retribution.
You lose sight of why we're here.
You think I lost sight of that? Yes, I do.
Stop antagonizing Candie.
You're going to blow this whole charade,
or more than likely get us both killed.
And I for one, don't intend to die,
in Chickasaw County, Mississippi, USA.
I'm not antagonizing him.
I'm intriguing him.
You're yelling abuse at these poor slaves.
I recall the man,
who had me kill another man in front of his son
and he didn't bat a eye.
You remember that?
Yeah, of course I remember.
What you said was...
that this is my world...
and in my world you got to get dirty.
So that's what I'm doing.
I'm getting dirty.
Well, you're paraphrasing a tad, but...
that was the general gist.
See you at Candyland.
Alright, niggers,
back at it.
That means you too, Moonlight.
I'll be.
D'Artagnan!
Now, boy, why do a fool thing like run off?
I can't fight no more, Monsieur Candie.
Yes, you can.
You might not be able to win, but your ass can fight.
Mr. Stonesipher, would you please shut these goddamn dogs up?
I cannot hear myself think!
Quiet down, Marsha!
Marsha, hush up! Marsha!
Hush up! Hey!
Get these goddamn dogs away from this nigger!
Come on now, boy...
get on out that tree.
Yes sir.
How long was he loose?
A night.
Day.
Half the other night.
How far he get off the property?
About 20 miles off the prop.
Pretty far considering that limp he got.
Mr. Moguy,
who was D'Artagnan supposed to fight on Friday?
One of this new lot.
Well, way he looks now,
a blind Indian would not bet a bead on him.
Please Monsieur Candie, I ain't got it in me no more.
Now, now, now, now, now. I can't...
Now, no... begging.
No playing on my soft heart.
You're in trouble, now son.
Yes sir.
You know.
I done paid $500 for you.
When I pay $500 then…
I expect to get five fights out of a nigger
before he roll over and play dead.
Sir.
You got to understand,
that I'm running a business here.
You fought three fights.
But I won every one.
Yes, you did.
Yes, you did but that last one, you muddled the line between winning and losing.
Yes sir.
Still, the fact remains.
I pay $500, I want five goddamn fights!
So what about my $500?
What about my $500?
You gonna reimburse me?
You even know what reimburse means?
I'll reimburse you!
You will?
Yep.
You'll pay $500,
for practically a one-eyed old Joe ain't fit to push a broom?
No, he won't.
He just tired of you toying with him is all.
Matter of fact, so am I.
But we ain't paying a penny for that pickaninny.
Ain't got no use for him. Ain't that right, doc?
You heard him.
You're gonna have to excuse Mr. Stonesipher's slack-jawed gaze.
He ain't never seen a nigger like you ever in his life.
Ain't that right, Mr. Stonesipher?
That right.
For that matter...
nor have I.
Now...
seeing as you won't pay a penny for this pickaninny here...
you won't mind me handling this nigger any way I see fit?
He's your nigger.
Mr. Stonesipher?
Let Marsha and her bitches send D'Artagnan to nigger heaven.
Marsha! Marsha, hey, get him!
Get him, get him!
Yeah!
Your boss looks a little green around the gills
for a blood sport like nigger fighting.
Nah,
he just ain't used to seeing a man ripped apart by dogs is all.
You are used to it?
I'm just a little more used to Americans than he is.
Now,
Monsieur Candie...
whenever you're ready.
We rode five hours so you could show off your stock.
Let's get to it.
Because as of now, if he's an example,
I ain't impressed.
Follow me.
Line them up to the left here now, boy.
Stand up straight, now!
Get up there.
Get up there, boy.
Come on.
Give me a line! Give me a line!
Get in line there! Straighten up!
Hello! Stephen, my boy!
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hello, my ass.
Who, this nigger up on that nag?
Stephen, you have nails for breakfast?
What's a matter? Why you so ornery?
You miss me? Oh, yes sir.
I miss you,
like a hog miss slop!
Like a baby miss mammy's titty.
I miss you like I misses a rock in my shoe.
Now I ask you,
who this nigger on that nag?
Hey, Snowball?
Wanna know my name or the name of my horse,
you ask me.
Just who the hell you calling Snowball, horse boy?
I'll snatch your black ass
off that nag there and in the mud so fast...
make your head spin. Stephen, Stephen, Stephen, Stephen.
Let's keep it funny.
Django here's a free man.
This nigger here? That nigger there.
Let me at least introduce the two of you.
Django,
this is another cheeky black bugger like yourself, Stephen.
Stephen, this here's Django.
You two oughta hate each other.
Calvin,
just who the hell is this nigger you feels the need to entertain?
Django and his friend in gray here, Dr. Schultz, are customers.
And they are our guests, Stephen.
And you, you old decrepit bastard, oughta show them every hospitality.
You understand that? Yes sir. Him I understand.
But I don't know why I got to take lip off this nigger.
You don't have to know why. Do you understand?
Yes sir. I understand.
Well, good.
They're spending the night.
Go up in the guest bedrooms and get two ready.
He gonna stay in The Big House?
Stephen, he's a slaver.
It's different. In The Big House?
Well, you got a problem with that?
Oh, no. I ain't got no problem with it,
if you ain't got no problem with burning the bed, the sheets,
the pillowcases, everything else
when this black-ass motherfucker's gone! That is my problem!
They are mine to burn!
Now your problem right now is making a good impression!
And I want you to start solving that problem right now
and get them goddamn rooms ready!
Yes sir, Monsieur Candie.
Go on, now.
Can't believe you brought a nigger to stay in The Big House.
Your daddy rolling over in his goddamned grave.
Man, the lip on him. He's getting worse and worse.
Now,
where is my beautiful sister?
There she is!
Dr. Schultz,
this attractive Southern belle is my widowed sister.
Darling,
you are a tonic for tired eyes.
May I present to you,
Lara Lee Candie-Fitzwilly.
Chester, Rodney, Chicken Charly. Y'all get your ass over by that pen.
Come on, Charly. Come on, now! Let's go.
You know where it is.
Like you on a rope!
Niggers don't walk around here, niggers run!
Monsieur Candie?
Yeah.
About that matter about the nigger girl you were talking about?
Nigger gal?
Yeah, I believe you mentioned she spoke German.
Yes! Hilda, what about her?
Do you think before the demonstration,
you could send her around to my room?
You little dickens, you.
I don't see why not.
Stephen,
when you get through showing them to their rooms, go fetch Hilda,
get her cleaned up and smelling real nice,
and sent over to Dr. Schultz's room here.
Actually, Monsieur Candie, sir,
there is a something I ain't told you about yet.
What?
Hilda in the Hot Box.
What's she doing there?
What you think she doing there in the Hot Box?
She being punished.
What she do? She run off again.
Jesus Christ Stephen, how many people ran away while I was gone?
Two.
When did she go?
Last night. They brung her back this morning.
How bad did Stonesipher's dogs tear her up?
Lucky for her, they was out chasing D'Artagnan's ass.
Bill and Cody went looking for her,
found her, brung her back.
Now, she a little beat-up.
But she done that to her own damn self
running through them damn bushes and shit.
How long she been in the box?
How long you think she been in there? All damn day.
And the little bitch got ten more days to be in there.
Still, take her out.
Take her out? Why?
Because I said so, that's why.
Dr. Schultz is my guest.
Hilda is my nigger.
Southern hospitality dictates,
I make her available to him.
But, Monsieur Candie, she run off.
Jesus Christ, Stephen.
What is the point of having a nigger that speaks German
if you can't wheel them out when you have a German guest?
Now, I realize it is inconvenient, but still, you take her ass out.
Yes sir.
Lara Lee!
Will you and Cora be responsible
for getting Hilda cleaned up and presentable for Dr. Schultz here.
Of course, darling.
Now gentlemen, I do apologize,
but I am weary from our travels beyond words.
It is time for me to rest my tired eyes.
Y'all done heard the man! Get her ass up outta there!
Cora!
Come here!
Get over there and get her cleaned up,
bring her back over here to Dr...
What he say your name is? Shoots? Schultz.
Get her back over here. Hurry up, girl.
Yes sir.
Come on, girl.
Stand up.
Is you coming with me or is you gonna sleep in that little box over yonder?
Hello, ladies.
Dr. Schultz.
May I introduce to you Broomhilda?
Hilda, this is Dr. Schultz.
It's a pleasure to meet you, Broomhilda.
I've heard a lot of good things about you.
Well, it's not every nigger speaks German, don't ya know.
As I look at you now, Broomhilda,
I can see all the passions you inspire are completely justified.
The doctor here speaks German.
And I've been informed you do as well?
Go ahead, girl. Speak a little German.
Astonishing.
And I shall bring you... Much obliged.
Yes.
Don't be afraid.
Pardon.
Thank you.
I promise.
Hey, Little Trouble Maker.
You silver-tongued devil, you.
Hurry up, girl. These ready, Miss Cora.
No, no, no, they drinking tonight.
Go downstairs, get the big jug with the red stuff Monsieur Candie like, hear?
Get your big pretty ass out the way.
You know you like it.
That's because you knows what I like.
Come on with these biscuits, girl.
Look, Monsieur Candie,
they were all fine specimens, no doubt about it.
But the best three by far were...
Samson.
What's that other one's name? Goldie.
And Eskimo Joe.
By the way, why is he called Eskimo Joe?
You never know how these nigger nicknames get started.
His name was Joe, maybe one day he said he was cold.
Who knows?
Well, regardless,
Samson's your best.
We all know that.
You will never sell him,
and I can see why.
He's a champion.
All three are champions.
Samson's the champion.
Them other two pretty good.
Calvin, now what's this nigger you let...
It's alright. It's alright.
You have to understand, Monsieur Candie,
while admittedly a neophyte, in the nigger fight game,
I do have a little bit of a background in the European traveling circus.
Is that right?
Hence,
I have big ideas when it comes to presentation.
I need something more than just a big nigger.
Yeah, he needs to have panache.
Need to have what? What? Panache.
A sense of Showmanship. Showmanship, yes.
I want to be able to bill him
as The Black Hercules.
The Black Hercules, isn't that clever?
More like Nigger-les.
I said and I told,
I would pay top dollar,
for...
the right nigger.
Now I'm not saying that Eskimo Joe is the wrong nigger, per se.
But is he right as rain?
Oh, Dr. Schultz,
I will have you know,
there is no one,
in the nigger fight game
that appreciates the value of showmanship
more than Monsieur Calvin J. Candie here.
Nobody.
But one must not forget the most important thing in the nigger fight game.
And that is a nigger that can win fights.
Now that should be your first, second, third, fourth, and fifth concern.
Now, after you have that, and you know you have that,
then you can start,
to implement a grand design.
In other words,
first thing is first.
First thing's first.
I see you two getting on.
Famously.
Oh, Monsieur Candie,
you can't imagine what it's like
not to hear your native tongue,
in four years.
Well, hell, I can't imagine two weeks in Boston.
Two weeks in Boston!
Monsieur Candie, you a mess!
Two weeks in Boston!
I can't express the joy I felt
conversing in my mother tongue.
And Hilda is a charming conversation companion.
Well, be careful now, Dr. Schultz.
You might-a caught yourself a little dose of nigger love.
Nigger love's a powerful emotion, boy.
It's like a pool of black tar.
Once it catches your ass, you're caught.
Yes sir, you stuck.
I don't know, doctor.
You can lay on all the German sweet talk you want,
but...
it looks like this pony's got big eyes for Django.
Well,
naturally.
It is the soaring,
eagle that attracts her attention,
not the plucked chicken.
Dr. Schultz, don't be so down on yourself.
You are quite the dapper European gentleman.
You got to clean these dishes,
you got to put your elbow in these dishes, you hear me?
You know that nigger, don't you?
Who? Who?
Don't who me, bitch. You know who I'm talking about.
At the table?
I don't know him.
You don't know him.
No.
No, what?
No, sir.
You would not lie to me now, would you?
Ok.
Yeah. If you say so.
Eskimo Joe's a quality nigger,
no doubt about it.
But if it was my money,
I would not pay no $12,000 for him.
What would your price be?
Well, if I was inclined to be generous,
and I don't know why,
I would be inclined to be generous...
9,000.
Maybe.
Dr. Schultz,
let me reclarify how this whole
negotiation came about.
You see, it wasn't me who came to you to sell a nigger.
Sure wasn't.
It was you who approached me to buy one.
Sure was.
Now, that $9,000 figure Bright Boy's been bandying about, that ain't too far off from right.
And if I wanted to sell Eskimo Joe for that,
I could do so any day of the week. Any day.
But, like you said in Greenville, doctor...
I don't want to sell him.
It was only your...
ridiculous offer of $12,000
that made me even consider it.
You know, Monsieur Candie, you do possess the power of persuasion.
Why not? Monsieur Candie, you have a deal.
Eskimo Joe, $12,000.
Hooray, doctor.
Hooray. And a wise decision that is.
However, that is a tremendous amount of money.
And the way you have your Mr. Moguy, I have a lawyer.
Persnickety man named Tuttle.
And I would need my Mr. Tuttle to draw up a legal contract
before I'd feel comfortable exchanging that amount of money for flesh.
Not to mention having Eskimo Joe examined,
by a physician of my choosing. Naturally.
So, say I return in about...
five days time. Five days?
With my Mr. Tuttle.
And then my Mr. Tuttle and your Mr. Moguy,
can hash out the finer details between themselves.
I say splendid, doctor.
Splendid.
Gentlemen...
may I propose a toast.
To Eskimo Joe.
Or shall we call him.
The Black Hercules?
To The Black Hercules.
The Black Hercules.
To The Black Hercules.
You was right, doctor.
That name do have pan-ass.
Hilda,
top my drink off.
So Hilda,
how you like serving at the big table in The Big House?
When Monsieur Candie talk to you, you answers.
I like it a lot, Monsieur Candie.
It's a lot better than sizzling in that Hot Box or dragging your ass through a bramble bush.
But maybe it's not quite as much fun as getting to pleasure all them Mandingos,
Sugar bear? Oh, Lord.
She like them niggers.
Sure do. Like Samson?
No, sir.
You know, Monsieur Candie,
the doctor here might be interested in seeing Hilda's peeled back,
seeing as how they don't have many niggers where he come from.
Dr. Schultz,
when you was alone with Hilda, here,
did you just speak German or...
did you get to take her clothes off?
No, we just talked and...
Oh, so you haven't seen her back?
I haven't... No, no, no, no.
Stephen's right, you might find this interesting.
Hilda, go on, take off your dress. Show Dr. Schultz your back here.
Go on. Calvin.
I just got her all dressed up and looking nice.
But, Lara Lee, Dr. Schultz is from Dusseldorf.
They don't got niggers there.
He is a man of medicine.
I'm sure it would fascinate him, the niggers' endurance for pain.
These niggers are tough, Dr. Schultz, no doubt about it.
Hilda's got something like four lashes on her back.
Lara Lee just get one, she'd lose her goddamn mind.
Sure would. Look at that, doctor.
It's like a painting. Look at that. Calvin!
We are eating. Ain't no one wanna look at her whipped up back.
Fine. Fine, fine, fine, fine.
After dinner, then, Stephen.
After dinner.
During the brandies, gentlemen?
Cora, come get this girl!
She a mess.
Yes, ma'am.
Why are you all undone?
I just got you done up.
Come on in here.
Baby, you on Stephen bad side,
and you need to be on his blind side.
You say you ain't know him.
I said,
you said you ain't know him.
I don't.
Yes, you do.
Mr. Stephen...
I don't.
Why is you lying to me?
I ain't.
Then why is you crying?
You scaring me.
Why is I'm scaring you?
Because you scary.
To speak German this afternoon with Hilda
was positively soul-enriching.
Doctor, that warms my heart to hear that.
You stay right here.
You indicated earlier,
you'd be willing to part with Hilda.
Why, yes. Yessiree bob, I did.
In that case,
allow me...
to propose another proposition.
I'm all ears.
Hurry up, goddamn it!
Monsieur Candie... Stephen!
You just interrupted Dr. Schultz here.
I'm sorry, Dr. Schultz.
My ears ain't worth a damn these days.
Excuse him.
Monsieur Candie, could I get a word with you in the kitchen?
You mean get up out of my chair?
If'n you could manage it.
Why?
It's about dessert.
What about dessert?
I'd rather discuss that in private.
We're having white cake!
What sort of melodrama could be brewing back there?
You right, Monsieur Candie. You right. I'll handle it myself.
Meet me in the library.
I just can't understand why you won't come talk to these niggers.
Shit get fucked up around here, you blame me.
Fine! Fine. Friend Stephen, I...
I will be along momentarily.
Yes sir.
Well,
gentlemen,
as you can see talented as they are, no doubt, in the kitchen,
from time to time,
adult supervision is required.
If you'll excuse me a moment.
You may clear the dinner service.
You heard him. Go on! Get.
Hurry up, girl.
So, Dr. Schultz,
why don't you regale us with a tale of the circus.
The circus?
What is the matter?
Them motherfuckers ain't here to buy no Mandingos.
They wants that girl.
Stephen,
what the hell are you talking about?
They playing your ass for a fool
is what I'm talking about.
They ain't here,
for no musclebound Jimmie.
They here for that girl.
Wh... What girl?
Wha... Hilda?
Yeah, Hilda.
Her and Django,
them niggers know each other.
He just bought Eskimo Joe.
Did he give you any money?
No! Not yet. But...
Then he ain't bought diddly.
Not yet, no how.
But he's just about to buy...
who he come here to buy when I interrupted him.
Thank you, Stephen.
You're welcome, Calvin.
Where you getting all this?
Why would they go through all that trouble for a nigger with a chewed up back,
ain't worth $300?
They doing it because that nigger Django's in love with Hilda.
She probably his wife.
Now, why that German gives a fuck who that uppity son of a bitch is in love with,
I'm sure I don't know.
If she's who they want...
why this whole...
snake oil pitch about Mandingos, then?
You would not pay no never mind to no $300.
But that 12,000?
That made you real friendly, now, didn't it?
Yes, it did.
His wife?
If it had been a snake,
it would have bit me.
Those lying...
goddamn time...
wasting sons of bitches.
Sons of bitches!
Out of New Orleans,
so I have quite a bit of practice with theater types.
Oh, there you are.
I was beginning to think that you and that old crow run off together.
That'd be a hell of a note, would not it?
Lara Lee,
I was just looking out the big window.
Billy Crash is out there dealing with some...
shady slaver
trying to sell a passel of ponies.
Would you be a dear, go out there and give them gals an eyeball?
Of course, brother.
Thank you, darling.
Yeah.
Business never sleeps.
Apropos,
before your exit,
we were discussing the possibility of my purchasing Broomhilda.
Ah yes.
Yes, we were, doctor.
And we will again. In a moment.
Who's your little friend?
This is Ben.
He's a old Joe that...
lived around here for a long time.
And I do mean a long damn time.
Old Ben here,
took care of my daddy...
and my daddy's daddy.
Till he up and keeled over one day.
Old Ben took care of me.
Growing up the son of a...
a huge plantation owner in Mississippi
puts a white man in contact with a whole lotta...
black faces.
I spent my whole life here,
right here,
in Candyland,
surrounded,
by black faces.
Now, seeing them every day, day in, day out,
I only had one question.
Why don't they kill us?
Now, right out there on that porch,
three times a week for 50 years,
Old Ben here,
would shave my daddy with a straight razor.
Now,
if I was Old Ben,
I woulda cut my daddy's goddamn throat
and it would not have taken me no 50 years to do it, neither.
But he never did.
Why not?
You see,
the science of phrenology
is crucial to understanding
the separation of our two species.
In the skull of the African here,
the area associated with submissiveness,
is larger than any human or
any other subhuman species on planet Earth.
If you examine...
this piece of skull here...
you will notice,
three distinct dimples.
Here,
here,
and here.
Now...
if I was holding the skull of an
Isaac Newton or Galileo,
these three dimples would be found in the area of the skull most associated with...
creativity.
But this is the skull of Old Ben.
And in the skull of Old Ben,
unburdened by genius,
these three dimples exist in the area of the skull most associated with...
servility.
Now, Bright Boy.
I will admit you are pretty clever.
But if I took this hammer here...
and I bashed in your skull with it...
you would have the same three dimples,
in the same place,
as Old Ben.
Hey!
Now lay your palms flat on that tabletop!
If you lift those palms off that turtle shell tabletop,
Mr. Pooch is gonna let loose with both barrels of that sawed-off.
There have been a lot of lies said around this dinner table here tonight,
but that you can believe!
Mr. Moguy,
would you be so kind as to collect the pistol
hanging off these boys' hips here?
Thank you ever so much.
Doctor.
Where were we?
Jackass.
Ah yes.
I do believe,
you were just getting ready to make me,
a proposition to buy Broomhilda.
Am I right?
Right.
Bring out Hilda!
Get over there yonder.
Sit your ass in that goddamn...
Lay your hand flat on that tabletop.
Now shut your mouth!
Dr. Schultz,
in Greenville,
you yourself said,
that for the right nigger,
you'd be willing to pay what some may consider is a ridiculous amount.
To which me myself said,
What is your definition of ridiculous?
To which you said,
$12,000.
Now considering,
you all have ridden a whole lot of miles,
went through a whole lot of trouble,
and done spread a whole lot of bull
to purchase this lovely lady right here,
it would appear that Broomhilda,
is in fact,
the right nigger.
And if you all want to leave Candyland with Broomhilda,
the price...
is $12,000.
And I take it you prefer the take it or leave it style of negotiation?
Yes, I do doctor.
You see, under the laws of Chickasaw County,
Broomhilda here,
is my property.
And I can choose to do,
with my property,
whatever I so desire!
And if you all think my price...
for this nigger here,
is too steep...
what I'm gonna desire to do is...
take this goddamn hammer here,
and beat her ass to death with it!
Right in front of both you all! Easy, big fella.
Then we can examine the three dimples
inside Broomhilda's skull!
Now,
what's it gonna be, doc?
What's it gonna be?
May I lift the hands off the tabletop in order to remove my billfold?
Yes, you may.
That 12.
Sold!
To the man with the exceptional beard
and his unexceptional nigger.
Mr. Moguy. Yes, Calvin?
Will you make these gentlemen a receipt for $12,000, please?
$12,000.
It was a pleasure doing business with you all.
Now gentlemen,
if you care to join me in the parlor...
we will be serving white cake.
Well done, Calvin.
Excuse me.
Excuse me, ma'am?
Could you please stop playing Beethoven?
Take your hands off the harp!
Doctor!
Doctor, you can't go in there! Stephen.
He ain't got no business going in there.
Let it be.
He's just a little upset, that's all.
I'll handle this.
White cake?
I don't go in for sweets, thank you.
You brooding about me getting the best of you?
Actually, I was thinking of that poor devil you fed to the dogs today.
D'Artagnan.
And I was wondering what Dumas would make of all this.
Come again?
Alexandre Dumas.
He wrote The Three Musketeers.
Yes, of course, doctor.
I figured you must be an admirer.
You named your slave,
after his novel's lead character.
Now if, Alexandre Dumas had been there today,
I wonder what he would have made of it.
You doubt he'd approve?
Yes.
His approval would be a dubious proposition at best.
Soft-hearted Frenchie.
Alexandre Dumas is black.
Are these Broomhilda's papers?
Yes, they are.
May I?
Of course.
Thank you.
That is her bill of sale, her ownership history,
and of course, her freedom papers, doctor.
Would you have ink and pen for me?
Right over there on that little table. Thank you.
Broomhilda Von Shaft...
consider yourself a free woman.
Mr. Candie...
normally,
I would say auf Wiedersehen.
But since what auf Wiedersehen actually means is till I see you again
and since I never wish to see you again,
to you sir,
I say, goodbye.
Let's go.
Come on.
One more moment, doctor!
What?
It's a custom here in the South,
once a business deal is concluded that the two parties,
shake hands.
It implies good faith.
I'm not from the South. But you are...
in my house, doctor.
So I'm afraid I must insist.
Insist?
On what?
That I shake your hand?
Oh, then I'm afraid I must insist in the opposite direction.
You know what I think you are?
What you think I am?
No, I don't.
I think you are a bad loser.
And I think you're an abysmal winner.
Nevertheless,
here in Chickasaw County a deal, ain't done...
until the two parties have shook hands.
Even after all that paper signing, don't mean shit...
you...
don't shake my hand.
If I don't shake your hand,
you're gonna throw away $12,000?
I don't think so.
Mr. Pooch?
If she tries to leave here before this nigger-loving German shakes my hand,
you cut her ass down.
You really want me to shake your hand?
I insist.
If you insist.
No! Calvin!
Calvin!
I'm sorry.
I couldn't resist.
Nigger's gone crazy! Help!
Help, he's killing everyone!
Holy!
Shit! Son of a bitch!
Damn it! Fucking!
Get the...
Damn it, son of a bitch!
What? Fucking...
Goddamn it!
What the fuck is going on?
You shot me!
You stupid son of a bitch! Sorry, Jessie!
Who the fuck gave a nigger a goddamn gun?
Aim low!
Nigger! Gonna kill!
Oh God!
Oh, my God!
Motherfucker!
Shit!
Shit.
Hold your fire!
Stop shooting, goddamn it!
Django!
What?
We got your woman!
Billy Crash here got his pistol upside her head.
You don't stop all that carrying on,
he gonna blow her goddamn brains out.
And that ain't no threat, horse boy.
That there is a promise.
Or...
you can give up,
throw your gun out...
we won't kill Hilda.
Horseshit!
Honest lnjun, Django. I swear before God.
You give up,
ain't no harm gonna come to her.
And I'm supposed to believe your black ass?
Personally, I don't give a good goddamn what you believe or don't believe!
I believe if you don't give up in the next ten seconds,
we gonna blow this bitch's brains out!
Believe that!
Don't do it.
You give me up.
Six! Just let me go.
Seven! They got too much.
Django. Eight!
I love you.
Nine!
Hold it!
No.
I give up.
I can't hear you, nigger.
I said, I give up!
No!
Cock-a-doodle-do, nigger.
So you all bounty hunters?
I knew there was something fishy about you all.
We found your wanted posters...
and book of figures in your saddlebags.
I got to say...
I ain't never heard of no black bounty hunter before.
Black boy paid to kill white men? How'd you like that line of work?
Probably pretty good while it lasted?
Time to say good night to them nuts, blackie.
On three.
One.
I got you.
Two.
Calm down, now, here it comes.
Captain?
Miss Lara want to see you.
Something to do with the Old Man's funeral.
Oh, and she changed her mind about snipping Django.
She gonna give him to the LeQuint Dickey people.
Well, she didn't waste a minute telling me.
How disappointing.
You leaving.
This here,
what you take with you.
Your black ass has been all them motherfuckers at The Big House
could talk about for the last few hours.
Seem like white folk ain't never had a bright idea in they life
was coming up with all kinds of ways to kill your ass.
Now mind you, most of them ideas had to do with fucking with your fun parts.
Now,
that may seem,
like a good idea,
but truth is,
when you snip a nigger's nuts,
most of them bleed out in, oh, about...
seven minutes.
Most of them.
Well,
more than most.
Then I says.
Shitfire.
The niggers we sell to LeQuint Dickey
got it worse than that.
And they still saying.
Let's whip him to death.
Or Throw him to the Mandingos. Feed him to Stonesipher's dogs.
And I said.
What's so special about that?
We do that shit all the time.
Hell's bells.
The niggers we sell to LeQuint Dickey,
got it worse than that.
Lo and behold,
out of nowhere,
Miss Lara come up with the bright idea,
of giving your ass to the LeQuint Dickey Mining Company.
And as a slave,
of the LeQuint Dickey Mining Company,
henceforth,
till the day you die,
all day, every day,
you will be swinging a sledgehammer,
turning big rocks,
into little rocks.
Now, when you get there,
they gonna take away your name,
give you a number,
and a sledgehammer,
and say, get to work!
One word of sass, they cuts out your tongue.
And they good at it too. You won't bleed out.
They does that real good.
They gonna work ya.
All day, every day,
till your back give out.
Then they're gonna hit you in the head with a hammer,
throw your ass down the nigger hole.
And that...
will be the story of you, Django.
And what's the golden rule, Frankie?
You don't root abos.
Hey, white boy.
I said, hey, white boy.
Shut up, black.
You ain't got nothing to say I want to hear.
How'd you like to make $11,000?
Do what, now?
I said how'd you like to make $11,000?
$11,500, actually.
What the fuck are you talking about?
Back there at that plantation, Candyland,
there was an $11,500 fortune,
just sitting there.
And you all rode right past it.
You be damned blackie, we're not bandits.
I ain't saying that.
Nice thing about this fortune,
is it ain't illegal.
You can't steal it.
You got to earn it, white boy.
You got something to say, mate, you say it.
The $11,500 fortune
waiting for you back at Candyland
is in the form of a Wanted Dead or Alive bounty
on Smitty Bacall and the Bacall Gang.
Who the fuck is Smitty Bacall?
Smitty Bacall is the leader of this murderous gang of stagecoach robbers,
the Bacall Gang.
There's a seven thousand dollars Wanted Dead or Alive bounty on him,
One thousand five hundred dollars for each of his three accomplices.
Dandy Michaels,
Gerald Nash,
and Crazy Craig Koons.
Now all four of them gentlemen,
they back there at Candyland,
laughing their ass off. You know why?
Because they just got away with murder.
But it ain't got to be that way.
You and your mates,
you all can ride back there and you all can go get that money.
What'd these jokers do again?
These sons of bitches, they killed innocent people.
Stagecoach robbery.
Innocent white people.
I got the handbill right here in my pocket, if you let me get it.
Get it out.
Wanted. Dead or alive.
Smitty Bacall and the Smitty Bacall Gang.
But you're a slave. For murder...
I ain't no goddamn slave. And stagecoach robbery.
Do I sound like a fucking slave?
$7,000 for Smitty Bacall.
That's a shitload. I'm a bounty hunter.
Yesterday,
as a free man,
I rode into Candyland on a horse,
with my German white partner,
Dr. King Schultz.
We tracked the Bacall Gang all the way from Texas,
to Chickasaw County.
We finally found their ass laying low in Candyland.
We went in there to get them,
things went sour,
my partner got killed,
Calvin Candie got shot,
then everybody there decided to blame me,
so here I am.
But you all know I ain't on that manifest.
And all you all know I ain't supposed to be on this trip.
But them four men is still back there,
they're still wanted,
and that 11,500 is up for grabs, and the last thing they'd expect
is you all riding back in there and getting it.
What's the deal?
You tell us who they are and we...
turn you loose? No, no, no, no.
I ain't gonna tell you who they are.
But, you give me a pistol,
one of them horses,
and $500 of that 11,500,
and I'll point them out to you.
This is a real handbill.
Now just because it's a real handbill
doesn't mean that other bunch of malarkey is.
Now why,
would a slave have a Wanted Dead or Alive handbill
in his pocket?
Did that black ride into Candyland yesterday?
Alright,
I'm gonna ask you again.
I want you to remember, I don't like liars.
Is he a Candyland slave,
or did he ride in with a white man on a horse yesterday?
Yeah.
They walked us from the Greenville auction,
and he rode in on a horse with a white man.
Now this white man,
was the black his slave?
He weren't no slave.
You fucking sure about that?
Damn sure.
What happened over in Candyland?
Bunch a shooting.
Massa got shot.
Who shot him?
The German.
Why'd he do that?
Nigger and the German was acting like they were slavers but they wasn't.
Well, what were they?
Bounty hunters.
Fuck me, Roy. I mean, this could be big, mate.
Well, smoke,
you got a deal.
I got one more condition.
What's that?
When we get there,
when time come...
you let me help you kill them.
Hey...
you're a funny bugger.
Cut him loose. Yeah, yeah.
You got yourself a deal, blackie.
You got yourself a deal, mate.
Hey!
You're alright for a black fella.
Oh, yeah.
There we go. There you go, mate.
Yeah.
We're gonna give you that packhorse over there.
What them saddlebags got in them?
Dynamite.
No. I ain't riding no horse with no goddamn dynamite on its back.
I can understand that.
Frankie,
why don't you take them sticks off that horse
and stick them in the nigger cage.
A little dynamite for you black fellas to play with.
Now, Floyd, you got that rifle up on the wagon, don't you?
Yeah, right.
Why don't you give him your gun and gun belt?
Right.
Now, don't drop the fucking thing, alright?
I've just had the sights fixed,
and they're perfect.
Oh, that's good to know.
Throw me up that dynamite.
Jake! Yeah?
Get out there and see what's wrong with them goddamn dogs!
D'Artagnan, motherfuckers!
Hey!
Auf Wiedersehen.
It's me, baby.
Would you prepare us some coffee?
Sheba, you help her.
Come on.
You all gonna be together with Calvin in the by and by.
Just a bit sooner than you all was expecting.
Billy Crash.
Now, where were we?
That's right.
Last time I seen you,
you had your hands on my...
Django!
You black son of a bitch!
The D is silent, hillbilly.
Oh, no!
Now,
all you black folks,
I suggest you get away from all these white folks.
Not you, Stephen.
You right where you belong.
Cora, before you go,
will you tell Miss Lara goodbye?
Do what now?
I said tell Miss Lara,
goodbye.
Bye, Miss Lara.
Y'all two run along now.
Stephen,
how you like my...
new duds?
You know, before now I didn't know that burgundy was my color.
I count six shots, nigger.
I count two guns, nigger.
You said in 76 years on this plantation,
you seen all manner a shit done to niggers.
But I notice,
you didn't mention kneecapping.
Oh, God! Motherfucker! Damn it!
Seventy-six years, Stephen.
How many niggers you think you see come and go?
Seven thousand?
Eight thousand?
Nine thousand?
Nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine?
Every single word that came out of Calvin Candie's mouth
was nothing but horseshit.
But he was right about one thing.
I am that one nigger in 10,000.
You son of a bitch!
You motherfucker!
Oh, sweet Jesus, let me kill this nigger!
You ain't gonna get away with this, Django!
They gonna catch your black ass.
You gonna be on the wanted posters now, nigger.
The bounty hunters gonna be looking for you.
You can run, nigger,
but they gonna find your ass!
And when they do, oh, Lord,
what they gonna do to your ass!
They ain't gonna just kill you, nigger!
You done fucked up!
This Candyland, nigger!
You can't destroy Candyland!
We been here!
There's always gonna be a Candyland!
Can't no nigger gunfighter kill all the white folks in the world!
They gonna find your black ass!
Django!
You uppity son of a...
Hey, Little Trouble Maker.
Hey, Big Trouble Maker.
You know what they are going to call you?
The fastest gun in the South.
Let's get outta here.
By LESAIGNEUR Sync & corrections August 2020
Who was that nigger?