Have you got room for 1 more?
Who, the hell, are yo?
And what happened to them?
The name's "Major Marquis Warren"
former U.S. Cavalry
currently a servant of the court
trying to bring a couple of no-goods into market.
I've got the paperwork on them in my pocket.
Are you taking them into Red Rock?
I figure, that's where you're headed. Right?
I am.
That, damned blasted, blizzard
has been on our ass for the last 3 hours.
There isn't any way we're going to make it all the way to Red Rock
- before it catches us. - So you're hightailing it halfway
to Minnie's Haberdashery?
You know I am.
May I come aboard?
Well, smoke
if it were up to me, yes
but it isn't up to me.
Who's it up to?
The fellow in the wagon.
The fellow in the wagon isn't partial to company?
The fellow in the wagon paid for a private trip
and I'm here to tell you
he paid a pretty penny for privacy
so if you want to go to Minnie's with us
you're going to have to talk to him.
Well
that's what I'll do.
Hold it, black fellow.
Before you approach, you take those 2 guns of yours
and you lay them on that rock over yonder.
Then you raise both your hands away above your hat.
Then you approach
molasses-like.
A real trusting fellow, huh?
Not so much.
Put them down.
Come on ahead.
I said away above your hat, God damn it!
Now come forward.
That's far enough.
Well, I'll be dogged!
You're a black fellow I know:
"Colonel Something-or-Other Warren", right?
"Major Marquis Warren".
I know you, too.
We shared a steak dinner
once upon a time in Chattanooga.
You're "John Ruth", "The Hangman".
That'd be me.
How long's that been?
Since that steak?
Oh... 8 months.
So why don't you explain to me
what an African bounty hunter's doing
wandering around in the snow in the middle of Wyoming?
Trying to get a couple of bounties in to Red Rock.
So you're still in business?
You know, I am.
What happened to your horse?
Circumstances caused us to have to take the long way round.
My horse couldn't make it.
You don't know anything about this filly here...
No.
- You don't even know her name? - No.
Well, I guess that makes this 1 fortuitous wagon.
I, sure as hell, hope so.
Major Marquis Warren, this here's "Daisy Domergue".
Domergue, to you this is "Major Warren".
Howdy, nigger.
She's a pepper, isn't she?
Now, girl, don't you know the darkies don't like
being called "niggers" any more?
They find it offensive.
I've been called worse:
- "Flaughsy" - Now, that I can believe.
You've never heard of her, huh?
Should I?
Well, she isn't any John Wilkes Booth
but maybe you might have heard tell
about the price on her head.
- How much? - $10,000.
Damn!
What did she do? Kill Lillie Langtry?
Not quite.
That 10 thousand's practically in my pocket.
It's why I'm not too anxious to be handing out rides
especially to professionals open for business.
I can certainly appreciate that
but I haven't got any designs on her.
One of my fellows over there is worth $4,000.
Another one's worth $3,000, and another's worth $1,000.
That's, damn sure, good enough for me.
Well... let me see their paperwork.
Like I said, molasses-like.
Back off.
Look, I sure hate to interrupt you
but we've got a cold, damned, blizzard that's hot on our ass
that we're trying to beat to shelter.
- I realize that. - Now, shut your mouth
and hold those damned horses while I think.
OK, boy. We'll give it a try
but you leave those 2 pistols over yonder with the driver.
Hey. You aren't really going to let that nigger
ride in here, are you?
I mean, maybe up there with O.B. but
How do you like the sound of those bells, bitch?
They're real pretty, aren't they?
You open up your trashy mouth again
and I'll knock out those front teeth for you.
Have you got it?
Yes.
Let me hear you say, "I've got it."
I've got it.
I'm going to need a hand tying these fellows up on the roof.
Give O.B. $50 when we get to Red Rock.
He'll help you.
Well, I agree with O.B.
This storm's got me concerned.
We could go on a lot quicker if you'd helped out, too.
God damn it to hell! I'm already regretting this.
Now, I can't likely help you tie fellows to the roof
with my wrist cuffed to hers
and my wrist is going to stay cuffed to hers
and she isn't ever going to leave my, God-damned, side
till I personally put her in the Red Rock jail.
Now, have you got that?
Yes, I've got it.
Good.
So, what happened to your horse?
Get in.
He was, kind of, old.
I'd had him for a bit.
When the weather took a turn for the worse
well, he did what he could but he couldn't make it.
That's too bad.
Yes, it is.
I and Old Lash had rode a lot of miles together.
You could say he was my best friend
if I considered stupid animals friends, which I don't.
Nevertheless I'm going to miss him.
Who's this Daisy Domergue?
A no-damned-good murdering bitch, that's who.
I see, you haven't got mixed emotions
about bringing a woman to a rope.
By "woman," you mean her?
No, I do not have mixed emotions.
So you're taking her into Red Rock to hang.
You bet.
Are you going to wait round to watch it?
Oh you know I am!
- Come on. - I want to hear her neck snap
with my own 2 ears.
Do you never wait to watch them hang?
My bounties never hang
because I never bring them in alive.
- Never? - Never ever.
We've talked about this
in Chattanooga. Bringing desperate men in alive's
a good way to get yourself dead.
- Get in there. - You can't catch me sleeping
if I don't close my eyes.
I don't want to work that hard.
No one said the job is supposed to be easy.
No one said it's supposed to be that hard either.
But that, little lady
is why they call him "the Hangman."
When the handbill says "dead or alive"
the rest of us shoot you in the back
from up on top of a perch somewhere
and bring you in dead over a saddle
but when John Ruth, "The Hangman" catches you
you don't die from any bullet in the back.
When "The Hangman" catches you, you hang.
You overrate him, nigger.
I give you, he's got guts, but in the brains department
he's like a man who took a high dive in a low well.
Now, Daisy
I want us to work out a signal system of communication.
When I elbow you real hard in the face, that means, "Shut up."
Heve you got it?
I've got it.
Get in there.
I know we've only met each other once before
and I don't mean to unduly imply intimacy
but well
have you still got it?
Have I still got what?
The Lincoln letter.
mm Of course.
Get up, boys.
- Have you got it on you? - mm-mm
Come on.
Where?
Right here.
Look. I know you've got to be real careful with it and all
and I can imagine you probably don't like taking it
in and out of the envelope all that often
but
If you wouldn't mind, I'd sure appreciate seeing that again.
You're right.
I don't like taking it in and out
- of the envelope that much - Yeah
but
seeing how you saved my life and all
I suppose I could let you read it again.
"Old Mary Todd's calling, so I guess it must be time for bed."
"Old Mary Todd."
Get in.
Well
that gets me.
Yes. It gets me, too.
Do you know what this is, tramp?
It's a letter from Lincoln.
A letter from Lincoln... to him!
Yes.
They shared a correspondence during the war.
They were pen pals
and this is just 1 of the letters.
What the...
O.B.
Stop.
whoa
Easy.
whoa
Of all the stupid...
Like to rip my, God-damned, arm off!
I didn't drag her stinking ass up this, God-damned, mountain
just for you to break her neck on the outskirts of town.
You're the one who handed her my, God-damned, letter.
I didn't give it to her.
I give it to you.
That nigger's like to bust my jaw.
You ruin that letter of his
and that nigger's going to stomp your ass to death
and when he does, I'm going to sit back on that wagon wheel
and watch and laugh.
How is it?
Well, she hasn't helped it any
but it's all right.
Is that the way niggers treat their ladies?
You aren't any, God-damned, lady.
Hey, Mr. Ruth.
What?
There's another fellow on foot up here on the road.
Hey.
What?
I said there's another fellow on foot, up here on the road.
Hey.
Considering there's a blizzard going on
there's a whole lot of fellows walking around
wouldn't you say, Major?
Well, seeing how I'm half of those fellows
yeah, there seems to be a lot of us.
This changes things, son.
$8,000 is a lot of money for a nigger.
With a partner 18's a whole lot better.
Do you really think I'm in cahoots with that fellow, or her?
Put them on.
Oh, I'm not wearing any handcuffs.
You put those on or you can stop
worrying about this whole thing right now.
Hey.
Hand your weapons to the driver.
A little jumpy, aren't you?
Never mind the jokes. Just do it.
If you say so.
I do.
OK.
I've done it.
O.B., have you got them?
I've got them.
OK, fellow.
You keep holding that lantern in that one hand
and you keep that other hand where I can see it.
Walk over there where I can get a good look at you.
Well, I'll be a, God-damned, dog in a manger!
Is that you, Chris Mannix?
I'm sorry, friend... Do we know each other?
Not quite.
Do you know this fellow?
Only by reputation.
Like I said, friend, you've got me at a bit of a disadvantage.
Keeping you at a disadvantage
is an advantage I intend to keep.
Whoever you are, mister, you sure sound tough
when you're talking to a desperate man, knee-deep in snow.
I don't want any trouble.
I just want a ride.
I'm freezing to death.
Who is this joker?
Have you heard of the rebel renegade, "Erskine Mannix"?
- "Mannix's Marauders"? - That's them.
The scourge of South Carolina, "Mannix's Marauders".
It's Erskine's youngest boy, "Chris".
What brings you in my path, Chris Mannix?
Well, Mr. Face, I was riding to Red Rock
and my horse stepped in a gopher hole in the snow
and fucked up his leg. I had to put her down.
You've got business in Red Rock?
- Yes, I do. - What?
I'm the new sheriff.
Horse shit!
- I'm afraid not. - Where's your star?
I'm not the sheriff yet.
but once I get there they'll swear me in
but that hasn't happened yet
and that's when you get your star.
Have you got anything that can back any of this up?
Yes, when we get to Red Rock
and from the look of those 3 frozen fuckers up there
I figure, you're a bounty hunter open for business
and I figure, you're taking those 3 dead bodies
into Red Rock to get paid...
3 dead
and 1 alive.
Who's that?
"Daisy Domergue".
Who, the fuck, is "Daisy Domergue"?
Not a, God-damned, thing to anybody, except me and The Hangman.
The Hangman?
Well, I'll be double-dog damned!
You're "The Hangman", "Bob Ruth".
It's "John".
And you...
you're the Nigger with the Head.
"Major Marquis".
My Lord, is that really the real head
of Major Marquis looking at me now?
Yes, it's really me and it's real;u my head.
So what's going on?
Are you having a bounty hunters' picnic?
Never mind.
You're taking those 3 dead bodies
and hurrying to Red Rock to get paid, aren't you?
Yes.
Well, the man in Red Rock that's
supposed to pay you is me, the new sheriff!
So if you want to get paid
you need to get me to Red Rock.
Well, excuse me for finding it hard to believe
a town electing you to do anything except drop dead!
So I'm supposed to freeze to death
because you find something hard to believe?
No. I suppose not.
Put them on and come inside.
No.
Then you'll freeze.
Then you'll hang.
How so?
Stagecoach driver, could you come down here and join us?
I've got to hold these horses
but I can hear you just fine from up here.
Well, you just heard me tell this fellow
I'm the new sheriff of Red Rock, right?
Yes.
Red Rock is my town now
and I'm going to enter my town in bounty hunter's chains?
No, sir.
Sorry, bushwhackers.
I'm not entering Red Rock that way.
Now, when you finally get to Red Rock
you're going to realize every, God-damned, thing I said was right
and I expect you, O.B.
to tell the townsfolk of Red Rock
that John Ruth let their new sheriff freeze to death.
There isn't any bounty on my head, bushwhacker:
so if you let me die, that's murder!
Hold out your hands.
O.B.
give the major back his iron.
One thing I know for sure.
This nigger-hating son of a gun
hasn't partnered up with you.
Now, I'll help you protect your 8,000
and you help me protect my 10.
A deal?
Well, isn't love grand!
Do you want to lie on the ground and make snow angels together?
Well, I'll tell you what, Bob!
The name's "John".
When we get to Red Rock
I'll buy you and Major Marquis there
dinner and booze
as my way of saying thanks.
I don't drink with rebel renegades
and I, damn sure, don't break bread with them.
Well, Mr. Ruth
you sound like you've got
a axe to grind against the Cause.
"The Cause" of a renegade army?
A bunch of losers gone loco!
You bet I do!
You wrapped yourselves up in a rebel flag
as an excuse to kill and steal
And this ought to interest you, Warren
in particular: emancipated blacks.
It sounds like my kind of fellow.
It sounds to me, you've been reading
a lot of newspapers printed in Washington, D.C.
Anyhow, I'm just trying
to let you know how grateful I am.
I was a goner
and you saved me.
Do you want to show me how grateful you are?
Shut up.
God damn it, Daisy!
It's coming.
Here...
the last piece.
Get in.
Get in, now.
Does he know
does he know how famous you once were?
I don't think so.
Black Eye.
- Do you know who he is? - Get in.
Do I know about the $30,000 reward
the Confederacy put on the head of Major Marquis?
Yes.
Those hillbillies went nigger head-hunting.
They just never did get themselves
the right nigger head, did they?
No, they didn't
but it wasn't for lack of trying.
Those Peckerwoods left their homes and families
and came up this snowy mountain looking for me and fortune.
None of them's found fortune.
The ones you've never heard of any more
they found me.
Now, it didn't stay at $30,000 for the length of the war.
Once passions cooled
it dropped down to 8, then 5
but I'll bet, even when it was 5,000
you had your share of country boys coming to call.
mm You know I did.
Why did they have a reward on you?
The confederates took exception to my capacity for killing them
and after I broke out of Wellenbeck
well, the South took my continued existence
as a personal affront
and the Cause put a reward on my head.
Get in there.
What's Wellenbeck?
You've never heard
of Wellenbeck Prisoner of War Camp, West Virginia?
No, Reb. I've never heard of it.
Did you bust out?
Oh
Major Marquis did more than bust out.
Major Marquis had a bright idea
so bright, you've got to wonder
why nobody ever thought about it before.
Tell John Ruth your bright idea.
Well, the whole damn place
was just made out of kindling
so I burnt it down.
There was a rookie regiment spending overnight in the camp:
47 men burnt to a crisp.
Southern youth, farmers' sons
cream of the crop.
And I say, "Let them burn!"
I'm supposed to apologize for killing Johnny Reb?
You joined the war to keep niggers in chains.
I joined the war to kill
white Southern crackers
and that means killing them any way I can:
shoot them, stab them
drown them, burn them
drop a big old rock on their head
whatever it took to put white Southern crackers
in the ground.
That's what I joined the war to do
and that's what I did.
To answer your question, John Ruth
when Major Marquis burned 47 men alive
for no more reason than to give a nigger a run for the trees
that's when the South put a reward
on the head of Major Marquis.
And I made those trees, Mannix!
You'd better believe I didn't look back
till I crossed the Northern line!
Oh, but you had a surprise waiting for you
on the Northern side, didn't you?
See, once they started pulling out
all those burnt bodies at Wellenbeck
it seems, not all those boys were rebs.
Why, you burnt up some of your own boys
didn't you, Major?
How many burnt prisoners did they end up finding?
Wasn't the final Yankee death count
something like 37?
That's the thing about war, Mannix:
people die!
Oh.
So you're going to chalk it up to "War is hell," huh?
Well, admittedly that is a hard argument to argue with
but if memory serves
your side didn't look at it that way.
I think they thought 37 white men
for 1 nigger
wasn't so hot a trade.
I do believe they accused you
of being a kill-crazy nigger
who only joined the war to kill white folks
and the whole blue and gray of it all
really didn't matter that much to you
and that's why they drummed your black ass
out of the cavalry with a yellow stripe down your back
isn't it, Major?
Horse shit!
If he'd done all that, the cavalry
would have shot him.
Well, I didn't say they could prove it
but they sure did
think it out loud, didn't they, Major?
But Warren's war record was stellar
and that's what saved his ass.
Now, you killed yourself your share
of redskins in your day, didn't you, Black Major?
The cavalry tends to look kindly on that.
I'll tell you what the cavalry didn't look kindly on:
Mannix's Marauders.
That's what!
And the fact that Erskine Mannix's little boy
would talk about anybody else's behavior
during war time makes me want to horse-laugh!
Don't you say anything about my daddy!
What he fought for was dignity in defeat
and against the unconditional surrender.
We weren't foreign barbarians pounding on the city walls.
We were your brothers.
We deserved dignity in defeat.
Just how many nigger towns did you sack
in your fight for dignity in defeat?
Oh, my fair share, Black Major
because when niggers are scared
that's when white folks are safe.
If you're going to talk that hateful nigger talk
you can ride up top with O.B.
No.
You've gone and got me talking politics.
I didn't want to.
Like I said to you, I'm just happy to be alive.
I think I'll scoot over here, right by this window
and let this beautiful carriage rock me to sleep
and dream about how lucky I am.
whoa, easy.
whoa
What the hell is going on?
We weren't expecting another stage tonight.
Yes. I can see you've already got another one up in here.
I just got through putting the horses away.
Well, this isn't the normal line
but we are stuck on the wrong side of a blizzard
so it looks like you're stuck with us.
Are Minnie and Sweet Dave inside?
They aren't here.
I'm running the place while they're gone.
Where are Minnie and Sweet Dave?
He says they aren't here.
He's looking after the place while they're gone.
Who are you?
I'm "Bob".
Well, whoever you are, help O.B. with the horses.
Come on.
Get them out of this cold before that blizzard hits us.
whoa Are you all right?
Wait.
Esperate.
I'll just put those other horses away.
If you need it done fast you need to help.
I've got 2 of my best men on it.
You heard him, freeloaders!
Get to work!
All right, you 2. Unhook the leaders.
Come on. Let's go.
Open up.
You've got to kick it open.
What?
Kick it open.
Shut that door.
There's a, God-damned, blizzard out there.
You have to stop and close the door.
You've got to nail it shut.
You have to nail it shut.
Hold it shut.
There's a hammer and nails by the door.
You have to nail it shut.
There's a hammer and nails by the door.
Give me a hammer.
You need 2 pieces of wood.
1 isn't good enough.
2 pieces of wood.
The fucking thing is busted.
Not just 1 piece of wood.
Give me another piece of wood.
Yes. All right.
I need a nail.
Jesus!
That door's a son of a gun!
Who's the idiot who broke that?
That Mexican fellow?
Oh, good heavens!
A woman?
Out in this white hell?
You must be frozen solid, poor thing.
It looks like Minnie's got herself a full house.
When did you fellows arrive?
Ah
about 40 minutes ago.
That cowboy fellow in the corner
- is that your driver? - No. He's a passenger.
The driver lit out.
He said he was going to spend the blizzard
shacked up with a friend.
The lucky devil!
Jesus Christ! That's awful.
Christ Almighty!
What did that Mexican fellow do? Soak his old socks in a pot?
Yes, I think we all felt the same way
but were a little too polite to say something.
- He doesn't have that problem. - Shit!
Where's the well water?
Over there.
So, all 3 of you fellows were headed to Red Rock
when the blizzard stopped you, huh?
Yes. All 3 of us were on that stagecoach out there.
Coffee beans...
Over there.
Get your hand out of there.
The new sheriff of Red Rock's travelling with us.
A sheriff of Red Rock... that'll be the day!
If he's a, God-damned, sheriff I'm a monkey's uncle!
Good.
Then you can share the bananas
with your nigger friend in the stable.
So
the new sheriff of Red Rock is travelling with you...
Oh, he's lying.
He isn't the sheriff of anything.
He's a Southern renegade.
He's just talking himself
out of freezing to death. That's all.
What, the fuck, did I tell you about talking?
I'll bust you in the mouth
right in front of these people. I don't give a fuck!
You never gave your name, sir.
"John Ruth".
Are you a lawman?
I'm taking her to the law.
So you're a bounty hunter?
That's right, buster.
Do you have a warrant?
Yes, of course I do.
May I see it?
Why?
You're supposed to produce it upon request.
How am I supposed to know you're not a villain
kidnapping this woman
without a warrant in your possession?
What's your name, Buster?
Well, it certainly isn't "Buster".
It's "Oswaldo Mobray".
"Oswaldo"?
Yes.
Well
I've got my warrant, Oswaldo.
I take it you're "Daisy Domergue"?
- That's her. - Yes.
I see.
It says here, "dead or alive."
Yes. It does.
Well, transporting a desperate
hostile prisoner such as her
sounds like hard work.
Wouldn't transporting her be easier
if she were dead?
Well, no one said the job was supposed to be easy.
And why is her hanging properly so important to you?
Let's just say, I don't like cheating the hangman.
He's got to make a living, too.
Well, I appreciate that.
Allow me to properly
introduce myself.
I'm "Oswaldo Mobray"
the hangman in these parts.
la-di-da
It looks like I've brought you a customer.
Yes. So it would appear.
Have you ever spent 2 days or more
locked up with 1 of your customers before?
- I can't say, I have. - Don't talk to my prisoner.
I talk to my prisoner. That's it.
- Have you got it? - I've got it.
Jolly good!
Have you got anything in here besides coffee
that can help warm us up?
Well, the bar is open.
Follow moi.
The line, O.B.
Oh whoa
Oh
whoa
Hey.
whoa Ace, whoa
You're all right.
Come on, God-damn it. I'm cold.
I'll feed and water the horses.
You go inside and get some hot coffee.
I've got some stew cooking.
It should be done soon.
Now, look.
No matter how bad this blizzard gets
we've still got to feed these horses
and take a squat from time to time
so me and Chris had better lay out a line
from the stable to the front door
and from the front door to the shithouse.
OK?
Good idea!
Come on, Chris.
I'll give you a hand.
Oh, no. Go inside. Get warm.
You're doing stable work in a, God-damned, blizzard.
I offer to help and you say no?
You're right, amigo
Muchas gracias.
All right. Follow me.
We're going to drop 1, every 10 paces
- from here to the door. - Yes.
All right.
Now, you're wanted for murder.
For the sake of my analogy
let's just assume that you did it.
Now, John Ruth wants to take you back to Red Rock
to stand trial for murder
and if you're found guilty
the people of Red Rock
will hang you in the town square
and as the hangman
I will perform the execution
and if all those things
end up taking place
that's what civilized society
calls "justice".
However
if the relatives and the loved ones
of the person you murdered
were outside that door right now
and after busting down that door
they dragged you out into the snow
and hanged you up by the neck
that would be "frontier justice".
Now, the good part
about frontier justice
is: it's very thirst-quenching.
The bad part is: it's as apt to be wrong as right.
Well, not in your case.
In your case, you'd have it coming
but other people, maybe not so much
but ultimately, what's the real difference
between the 2?
The real difference is me
the hangman.
To me, it doesn't matter what you did.
When I hang you, I'll get no satisfaction from your death.
It's my job.
I'll hang you in Red Rock
and I'll move on to the next town
and I'll hang someone else there.
The man who pulls the lever that breaks your neck
will be a dispassionate man
and that dispassion is the very essence of justice
for justice delivered without dispassion
is always in danger of not being justice.
Amen.
No offense, cowboy fellow.
Just getting your attention!
Yes, well
you've got it.
What are you writing, friend?
The only thing I'm qualified to write about.
What's that?
My life story.
You're writing your life story?
You bet, I am!
Am I in it?
You just entered.
Well, if you like writing stories so much
why don't you tell me the story that brings you here?
Who's asking?
I am: "John Ruth".
I'm bringing in this one to Red Rock to hang
and there's no way I'm spending a couple of nights
under a roof with somebody I don't know who they are
and I don't know who you are.
So, who are you?
"Joe Gage."
- What? - That's my name:
"Joe Gage."
OK, Joe Gage.
Why are you going to Red Rock?
I'm not. I'm not going to Red Rock.
Where you going?
About 9 miles outside of Red Rock.
What's there?
My mother.
Your mother?
Listen. I'm just a cowpuncher.
I just got back from a long drive
and I wasn't just an ass in a saddle this time.
I was a partner.
For the first time in my life I've made a pretty penny
and I
figured I'd come home
and spend time with my mother
for Christmas.
Now, that's funny
because you don't look like
the "coming-home-for-Christmas" type.
Yes, well
you know, looks can be deceiving
because I definitely am a
coming-home-for-Christmas- to-spend-time-with-mother type.
Christmas with mother... I mean
it's a wonderful thing.
Now, is that
good enough for you
John Ruth?
For now.
You steer clear of my prisoner.
Hello, old-timer.
"General".
You, sir, are a hyena.
I have no wish to speak to you.
I've been called worse.
Fair enough, General.
Sorry to bother you.
Hey.
You've got to kick it open.
- What? - Kick it open.
That latch... you've got to kick it open.
Jesus Christ!
Close it.
What?
- Close it. - The, God-damned, door!
- It doesn't have a latch. - Close it.
It's already cold enough in here.
It doesn't have a latch.
You've got to hammer up a board.
The hammer and nails are by the door.
There's a hammer and nails right there.
Ah, God!
Hold this here, Chris.
Watch your fingers.
Really nail it in.
You need 2 pieces of wood.
You've got to hammer another one.
One isn't good enough.
It's going to blow right open.
Now, God-damn it!
It's going to open if you don't ham...
- Shut up! - I've got it.
The son of a bitch!
Jesus Christ!
That's door's a whore.
Oh.
I get it: "Haberdashery."
That was a joke.
How's the coffee?
Now? Pretty good, if I do say so myself.
Thank you.
Ooh
Ha! Navajo.
Guess who he is.
Buffalo Bill?
Hardly.
No. I'm
"Oswaldo Mobray". I'm the
He's the hangman of Red Rock.
Oh, you are?
- Yes, I am. - Well...
- Good to meet you - Yes.
- Mr... - "Mobray".
- Yes.
I'm "Chris Mannix"
the new sheriff in Red Rock.
- Really? - pfft horse shit!
Pay no attention to him.
Horse shit!
The fellow warming himself by that potbelly stove
is a hell of a driver named "O.B."
That's the only thing you've said that's the truth.
Are you coming into Red Rock to hang Lance Lawson?
- Precisely. -Do you have the execution orders on you?
- In my bag. - May I see them?
Of course.
Who's Lance Lawson?
He's a fellow who's been sitting in the Red Rock jail
for about a month now.
He's the fellow who shot the fellow
who was sheriff before me.
Precisely.
Thank you.
What did she mean when she said
"the bounty hunter's nigger friend in the stable"?
He's got a nigger bounty hunter friend in the stable.
But all that just to guard her?
I don't think that was the original idea but
that's the idea now.
Want a little snake bite in your coffee?
Yes.
5 of you?
Well, well! It looks like Minnie's Haberdashery
is about to get cozy for the next few days.
Yes, it does.
Here.
Are you the chap with the Lincoln letter?
The Lincoln what?
Yes. The letter from Abraham Lincoln.
President Abraham Lincoln?
Yes. Weren't you pen pals
with the president?
Now, I'm sorry. I heard that somebody in your party
had a letter from Abraham Lincoln.
I assumed it was you.
Not him...
the black fellow in the stable.
The nigger
in the stable has a letter from Abraham Lincoln?
Yes.
The nigger in the stable has a letter from Abraham Lincoln!
What did you say your name was again?
- "Bob." - "Warren."
Are Minnie and Sweet Dave in there?
Minnie and Sweet Dave went to visit her mother
on the north side of the mountain.
- What? - Yes.
Minnie isn't here?
Yes, they're visiting her mother.
- Her mother? - Yes.
hmm
I never knew, Minnie had a mother.
Well, everybody's got a mother.
Yes, I suppose.
And she left you in charge?
Si.
That sure doesn't sound like Minnie.
Are you calling me a liar?
Well, not yet, I'm not.
It just sounds peculiar. That's all.
What sounds peculiar?
Well, first off, Minnie never struck me
as the sentimental type
and secondly, I can't imagine Sweet Dave lifting his fat ass
out of his chair long enough to fetch well water
unless Minnie was laying a frying pan beside his head
let alone taking a trip to the north side.
Well, that sounds a whole lot
like you're calling me a liar, mi negro amigo.
Yes, it does sound a whole lot like that, doesn't it?
But I still haven't done it yet.
Does Minnie still serve food?
- Do you consider stew food? - Yes.
Then we serve food.
Is she still stinking up the place with Old Quail pipe tobacco?
Minnie doesn't smoke a pipe.
She rolls her own:
Red Apple Tobacco.
But, mi negro amigo, I think you already know this.
Yes, I do, Señor Bob.
I'm just seeing if you do.
Come on.
Fill her up, O.B.
Yes.
God damn it!
Thank you.
Well, cut my legs off and call me "Shorty"!
Is that General Sanford Smithers, I see?
You've got a good eye, son.
Ha-ha! Well, I'll be double-dog damned!
"General Sandy Don't-Give-a-Damn Smithers?"
"Captain Chris Mannix, Mannix's Marauders."
Erskine's boy?
Yes, sir.
May I sit down, sir?
Well, according to the Yankees, it's a free country.
General Sandy Smithers... ha-ha
Boy
oh, boy
did my daddy talk about you.
I heard you gave those Blue Bellies sweet hell.
I and my boys did our part.
Just like Erskine and his boys did their part.
Hell yeah! We did.
Yankee sons of bitches!
I never knew your father, son
but I always respected his resolve.
Well, thank you for saying that, General.
Your respect would have meant the world to him.
Can I get you some coffee?
That'd be nice.
Well, how about a blanket?
That'd be even nicer.
Hell! Do you know what... You can have mine.
Here we go, General.
Ha-ha! So what brings you out Wyoming way, sir?
If you don't mind my asking.
My boy.
- Oh, you've you got a boy that lives in Red Rock? - My son
"Chester Charles Smithers".
He died out here, a few years back.
Oh, forgive me, sir.
There's no forgiveness needed, son.
Like I said, it was a few years back.
It was after he'd served his service.
He came out here to the hills of Wyoming
to make his fortune
never to be heard from again.
I bought him a symbolic plot
in the Red Rock cemetery
and I'm here to advise the stone maker on his headstone.
Was he a goner for sure?
No chance he could be living the cold life
out in the woods?
It's a rough life, but folks can learn it.
If he'd have done what he came out here to do
he'd have come home.
Hold it. Close it.
You have to hold it closed while I nail it shut.
Well, who's the idiot who broke the damn door?
Just fucking hold it closed.
Orale, cabron.
Hold it closed.
OK.
1 more.
Keep holding
mi negro amigo.
We need 2 pieces of wood.
Orale, cabron! All right.
There you go, motherfucker.
Lot of hats, Señor Bob.
huh?
Considering Minnie's "no hats indoors" policy
which, if I remember correctly
was one of those Bar of Iron rules
the kind of rule she'd want kept up in her absence.
You seem to have a laissez-faire attitude
when it come to the hats.
I'm guilty.
I have a laissez-faire attitude about the hats.
How about we forget about the hats today
considering there is a blizzard going on and on?
We'll make tomorrow "No-Hat Day".
You know, my daddy
I said that my daddy
always said that Davis
was a courageous man
but he should have put the capital
in Montgomery and not Richmond.
Yes, sir. I agree with that.
The army in northern Virginia would have been used
in a very different way. I said the army
of North Virginia would have been used in a very different way.
Shut up.
O.B.
do you know that nigger, sir?
I don't know that nigger
but I know he's a nigger, and that's all I need to know.
Well
that nigger just isn't any nigger.
That nigger, he
"General Sanford Smithers"?
The Battle of Baton Rouge?
Inform the nigger
in the cavalry officer's uniform
that I had a division of Confederates
under my command
in Baton Rouge.
Major Nigger, General Smithers wishes me to inform you
I heard him, hillbilly.
Inform this old cracker that I was in Baton Rouge also
on the other side.
Oh, that's interesting.
General Smithers
he said that he was also in Baton Rouge on the other side.
Captain Mannix
tell the nigger
that I don't acknowledge niggers
in Northern uniforms.
You captured a whole colored command
that day
but not one colored trooper made it to a camp, did they?
We didn't have the time or the food
nor the inclination
to care for Northern horses
and least of all
Northern niggers
so we shot them where they stood.
Gentlemen
I know Americans aren't apt
to let a little thing like unconditional surrender
get in the way of a good war
but I strongly suggest we don't restage
the Battle of Baton Rouge
during a blizzard in Minnie's Haberdashery.
Now
my Nubian friend
while I realize passions are high
that was a while ago
and if you shoot this unarmed old man
I guarantee I will hang you by the neck
until you are dead once we arrive in Red Rock.
I damn well guarantee that, too.
Yes, Warren
that's the problem with old men.
You can kick them down the stairs
and say it's a accident, but you can't just shoot them.
Gentlemen, since we may be
trapped here
close-together-like
for a few days
may I suggest a possible solution:
we divide Minnie's in half.
The Northern side
and the Southern side
with the dinner table
operating as a
neutral territory.
We could say that the fireplace
side of the room acts as
a symbolic representative of
Georgia
while the bar
represents
Philadelphia.
As long as the bar's Philadelphia
I agree.
Have we still got that deal we talked about in the wagon:
I help you protect your $8,000
- and you help me protect my 10? - Yes, I suppose.
One of those fellows
is not what he says he is.
What is he?
In cahoots with this one, that's what he is.
1 of them, maybe even 2 of them
are here to see Domergue goes free.
To accomplish that goal they'll kill everybody in here.
They've got themselves a couple of days
so all they've got to do is sit tight
and wait for a window of opportunity
and that's when they strike
huh, bitch?
If you say so, John.
Are you sure, you aren't just being paranoid?
Our best bet is, this duplicitous fellow
isn't as cool a customer as Daisy here.
He won't have the leather patience it takes
to just sit here and wait.
Waiting for an opportunity
and knowing it's the right one isn't so easy.
He can't handle it.
He'll stop waiting
and try and create his opportunity
and that's when Mr. Jumpy reveals himself.
Now, what have you got to say about all this?
What have I got to say?
About John Ruth's ravings?
He's absolutely right.
I and 1 of them fellows are in cahoots.
We're just waiting for everybody to go to sleep.
That's when we're going to kill you.
OK, everybody
hear this.
This here is "Daisy Domergue".
She's wanted dead or alive for murder:
$10,000.
That money's mine, boys.
I don't want to share it
and I'm not going to lose it.
When that sun comes out
I'm taking this woman into Red Rock to hang.
Now
is there anybody here
committed to stopping me
from doing that?
Really?
Nobody's got a problem with this?
Well
I guess that's very fortunate for me.
However
I hope you'll understand
I can't just
take your word.
Circumstances force me to
take
precautions.
When you say
"precautions"
why do I feel that you mean me?
Because I'm going to take your gun, son.
You are?
Yes, I am.
- It's nothing personal. - Just mine?
The Hangman's got himself a gun, too.
I'll be dealing with his gun after I deal with yours.
I feel kind of
naked without it.
Oh, I've still got mine.
I'll protect you.
A bastard's work is never done.
Huh, John Ruth?
That's right, Joe Gage.
- Now, give me the gun. - If you want it
you're going to have to come and take
Calm down.
Take your hand away from your gun.
Blink if you're calm.
Did he blink?
He blinked.
Blink if you're going to remain calm.
He blinked.
Take his pistol.
I'm real sorry about this, son.
Like I said
it's nothing personal, just
a precaution.
You're pretty sneaky!
I'm afraid the same applies to you too
Mr. Mobray.
Precautions must be taken
because life is too sweet to lose.
Hand me that little bucket.
O.B.
go to the outhouse.
Take this bucket and dump it down the shithole.
Why have I got to go outside?
Well, your jacket's already on
and I, sort of, kind of, trust you.
- Grab the other cup. - Yes. I've got it.
After you, Major.
OK.
I'm going to cut you loose while we eat.
Don't get any ideas. I'm not going soft on you.
Lift your ass even 1 inch off that seat
and I'll put a bullet right in your, God-damned, throat.
Come here.
Oh.
So, Domergue
I suppose this blizzard counts as a stroke of luck
as far as you're concerned.
You don't hear me complaining, do you?
No, I sure don't.
Well, how about you, Oswaldo?
How about me, what?
Look.
Considering all the things I've done for money
I'm not one to judge but
don't you feel just the least bit bad
about hanging a woman?
Well, until they invent a trigger a woman can't pull
if you're a hangman you're going to hang women.
Well, hell, Ozzie! I guess
I've never looked at it like that before.
When it comes to some of those mean bastards out there
it's the only thing that does the job.
You really only need to hang mean bastards
but mean bastards: you need to hang.
You God-damned son of a bitch!
I almost died out there.
I'm never going out in that shit
ever, ever again.
Are you OK, O.B.?
I'm fine.
I'll be fine.
I just need to get warm.
Do you want some stew, O.B.?
There's stew?
Later.
Oh, yeah.
That's nice.
So
how are you doing, Black Major?
I'm not in the mood, Chris Mannix.
Leave me be from your horse shit.
John Ruth says you've got a Lincoln letter.
I've told you, jackass. Go and hee-haw someplace else.
That's right, John.
You did say that, didn't you?
Yes. I did.
So
you've got a letter from Abraham Lincoln?
Yes.
The... Abraham Lincoln?
Yes.
Abraham Lincoln...
the president of the United States?
Yes.
of America?
Yes.
wrote you a letter
personally?
Yes.
Personally, as in "Dear Major Warren..."
No, personally, as in "Dear Marquis..."
"Dear Marquis"?
Abraham Lincoln
the president of the United States of America?
Yes.
May I see it?
No, you may not.
But the way John tells it
you weren't just some random nigger soldier
picked from a pile of letters.
The way John tells it
you had a correspondence.
Yes.
The way John tells it
you were practically pen pals.
Yes.
And a pen pal's
practically a friend.
John Ruth
do you really think a nigger
drummed out of the cavalry with a yellow stripe down his back
was practically friends
with the president of the United States of America?
John Ruth, I hate to be the one to break it to you
but there isn't anybody in Minnie's Haberdashery who's ever corresponded
with Abraham Lincoln
least of all
that nigger there.
Was all that horse shit?
Of course it was.
A good one, Warren!
Talk that sass, nigger.
Talk that sass.
Well, I guess it's true what they say about you people.
You can't trust a, fucking, word that comes out of your mouth.
What's the matter, John Ruth?
Did I hurt your feelings?
As a matter of fact
you did.
I know
I'm the only black son of a bitch you've ever conversed with
so I'm going to cut you some slack
but you've got no idea what it's like
being a black man facing down America.
The only time black folks are safe
is when white folks are disarmed
and this letter had the desired effect
of disarming white folks.
Call it what you want.
I call it a dirty, fucking, trick!
Do you want to know why I lie
about something like that, white man?
It got me on that stagecoach, didn't it?
Well, I'll tell you like the good Lord told John.
A letter from Abraham Lincoln wouldn't have had
that kind of effect on me.
I might have let a whore piss on it.
- I'd spit on it. - Good for you, sister!
Warren
God damn it! You leave that old man alone.
Stand down, you son of a bitch.
I shared a battlefield with this man!
Or would you deny me that, too?
I suppose you were there.
May I Join you?
Yes, you may.
Damn it.
So how's life since the war?
I've got both my legs
and both my arms.
I can't complain.
Have you got a woman?
Fever took her at the start of this last winter.
mm
What was her name?
Betsy.
A Georgia girl?
Augusta.
An Atlanta boy, an Augusta girl!
I used to raise Kentucky horses
and her pa was the owner of the breedership
where I bought most of my ponies.
God damn it!
I made a good deal on her.
I took the stake he gave me
and bought a bunch of peach orchards.
I set myself up pretty well.
I did a hell of a lot better
than either one of my no-good brothers. That's for damn sure.
hmm
Yes, your boy came up here a few years back.
He spoke highly of his mama, too.
You knew my boy?
Did I know him?
Yes.
Yes, I knew him.
You did not know my boy!
Suit yourself.
Did you know my son?
I know the day he died.
- Do you? - No.
Do you want to know what day that was?
Yes.
The day
he met me!
He come up here
to do a little nigger head-hunting.
By then, the reward was
$5,000 and bragging rights
but to battle-hard rebs...
$5,000 just to cut off a nigger's head?
That's good money.
So those Johnnies climbed this mountain
looking for fortune.
There wasn't any fortune to be found.
All they found
was me.
All those crackers who came up here sang a different tune
when they found theyself at the mercy of a nigger's gun.
"Let's just forget it."
"I'll go my way, you go yours."
That's your boy Chester talking.
You're a, God-damned, lier!
"If you just let me go home"
"to my family, I swear"
"I'll never set foot in Wyoming again."
That's what they all said.
Begging for his life
your boy told me
his whole life story
and you
were in that story, General
and when I knew, myself I had
the son
of the bloody nigger killer of Baton Rouge
I knew myself I was going to have some fun.
You shut your lying nigger-lips up!
General Smithers, don't you listen to him.
He didn't know your boy.
He just heard tell why you're here. That's all.
It was cold the day I killed your boy
and I don't mean
snowy-mountain Wyoming cold. Uh-uh.
It was colder than that.
And on that cold day, with your boy
at the business end of my gun barrel
I made him strip
right down to his bare ass.
Then I told him to start walking.
I walked his naked ass for 2 hours
before the cold collapsed him.
You never even knew my boy!
No, he didn't.
He's just a sneaky nigger
trying to get you to go for that gun.
Then he commenced begging again
but this time, he wasn't begging to go home.
He knew he'd never see his home again.
He wasn't begging for his life either
because he knew that was long gone.
All he wanted
was a blanket.
Now, don't judge your boy too harshly, General.
You've never been as cold as your boy was that day.
You'd be surprised
what a man that cold
would do for a blanket.
Do you want to know what your boy did?
I pulled my big black pecker
out of my pants
and I made him crawl through the snow
on all fours over to it.
Then I grabbed myself a handful
of that black hair
at the back of his head
and I stuck my big black Johnson
right down his, God-damned, throat
and it was full of blood, so it was warm.
Oh, you bet your sweet ass, it was warm!
And Chester Charles Smithers
sucked on that warm black dingus
for as long as he could.
You're starting to see pictures, aren't you?
Your boy
a black dude, a dingus in his mouth
him shaking, him crying
me laughing
and him not understanding.
But you understand, don't you, Sandy?
I never did give your boy that blanket
even after all he did
and he did everything I asked...
no blanket!
That blanket was just a heart-breaking liar's promise
kind of like those uniforms
the Union issued those colored troops
that you chose not to acknowledge.
So what are you going to do, old man?
Are you going to spend the next 2 or 3 days
ignoring the nigger that killed your boy
ignoring how I made him suffer
ignoring how I made him
lick all over my Johnson?
Oh, the dumbest thing your boy ever did
was to let me know
he was your boy.
About 15 minutes has past
since we last left our characters.
Joe Gage volunteered to take Smithers' dead body outside.
Straws were drawn to see who'd help him.
O.B. lost.
Chris, John Ruth and Oswaldo had a vigorous debate
about the legality of the self-defense murder
that had just transpired.
Major Marquis Warren, who was supremely confident
about the legality of what had just transpired
ignored them, sat at the table by himself
and drank brandy.
Captain Chris Mannix donned the dead general's coat
and joined Oswaldo in lighting the candles and lanterns.
Hey, Ozzie.
Now, you've got the right idea.
Let's light this place up.
John Ruth held the door closed
waiting for Joe Gage and O.B. to return.
Bob enjoyed a Manzana Roja.
Domergue, however, hasn't moved from her spot
at the community dinner table since John Ruth uncuffed her.
John Ruth...
Yes.
Can I play that guitar over there?
Let's go back a bit.
Your boy, black dude's dingus in his mouth
15 minutes ago, Major Warren
shot General Smithers in front of everybody
but about 40 seconds before that
something equally as important happened
but not everybody saw it.
While Major Warren was captivating the crowd
with tales of black dicks in white mouths
somebody
poisoned the coffee.
He did everything I asked...
no blanket
and the only one to see him do it
was Domergue.
That's why this chapter is called
"Domergue's Got a Secret."
John Ruth...
Yes.
Can I play that guitar over there?
Yes.
If you come back with anything else but a guitar
my pistol plays a tune:
"Domergue's Death March."
Have you got it?
Yes, I've got it.
That's the one you liked to sing in the stagecoach, huh?
Yes.
It's, kind of, pretty.
Has it got another verse to it?
Yes, lots.
Well, go ahead. Sing it.
Whatever you say, John.
Give me that guitar.
The music time's over.
What... Hey!
whoa
Turn around.
John, no.
- No! - Yes.
Shut up.
When you get to hell, John
tell them, Daisy sent you.
Mannix, the coffee!
Oh, my God.
Give me that fucking gun.
Don't test me, bitch.
Everybody
get your backsides up
against that back wall over yonder.
Well, God-damn it!
Get or don't get, Joe Gage:
it's up to you.
- I'm getting. - Then get.
You too, Señor Bob.
Everybody turn around
and put your hands on that wall
and move those damned snowshoes.
Now, everybody, keep your mouths shut
and you do like I say.
If you open your mouth
you're going to get a bullet.
If you move a little sudden
or a little strangely
you're going to get a bullet...
not a warning, not a question
a bullet.
Have you got that?
Let me hear you say, "I've got it!"
I've got it.
We have it.
Chris Mannix, come over here on this side.
Come on.
Take this gun out my holster.
Point it at them.
Now, like I said
if anybody does anything...
and I mean anything
you kill them.
So
you finally decided I'm telling the truth
about being the sheriff of Red Rock, huh?
I don't know about all that
but I know you aren't the killer who poisoned that coffee
because you almost drunk it your own, damned, self.
One of them is.
Ah.
Ow.
Give me the key.
You, mother-fucking, black bastard.
You're going to die on this mountain
and I'm going to, fucking, laugh when you do.
What did I say about talking?
Bastard!
I meant it, didn't I?
And you need to understand
you just killed the only man here
committed to getting you to Red Rock alive!
Now, 1 of you
is working with her
or 2 of you are working with her
or all of you are
but only 1 of you
poisoned the coffee.
Now, what charms has this bitch got
to make a man brave a blizzard
and kill in cold blood?
I'm sure I don't know
but John Ruth's trying to hang your woman
so you kill him.
OK
maybe
but O.B. wasn't hanging anybody.
He, damned, sure wasn't
but he's, sure enough, laying over there dead
now though, isn't he?
He, damned, sure is, you sons of bitches
just like any one of us would have drunk that coffee
like me, God-damned it!
Now, those of you with your hands on the wall
who don't practice in poison
need to think about that.
Think about how it could have been you
rolling around, here on this floor
and how the man standing next to you
would be responsible
and I know who I've got my money on.
Oh, that's right, Joe Gage.
I'm looking at you.
Not so fast, Chris.
We'll get there.
Let's slow it down.
Let's slow it way down.
Who made the coffee?
He did.
Yes. He did, didn't he?
But it's the stew that's got me thinking.
Now, how long was it, you said Minnie had been gone?
A week?
Si.
My mama used to make stew
and it always tasted the same
no matter what the meat.
And there was another fellow on the plantation:
Uncle Charly.
He made stew, too
and like my mama
I ate his stew from the time I was a whipper
till I was a full-grown man.
No matter what the meat
it always tasted like Uncle Charly's stew.
Now, I haven't had Minnie's stew
in 6 months, so I'm no expert
but that, damned, sure is
Minnie's stew.
So if Minnie is on the north side
visiting her mama for a week
how did she make the stew this morning?
hmm
And this...
this is Sweet Dave's chair.
When I sat in it earlier
I couldn't believe it.
Nobody sits in Sweet Dave's chair.
This may be Minnie's place
but this is, damned, sure
Sweet Dave's chair
and if he went to the north side
I'm pretty, God-damned, sure
this chair would be gone with him.
What's in the chair?
Just what I thought.
Sweet Dave's, God-damned, blood.
Hoo-hoo-hoo.
So are you actually accusing me of murder?
The way I see it, Señor Bob
is: whoever is working with her
isn't who they say they are
and if it's you
that means Minnie and her man
aren't at her mama's.
They're laying out the back there, dead somewhere
or if it's you, little British man
the real "Oswaldo Mobray" laying in a ditch somewhere
and you're just an English fellow passing off his papers
Or we go by my theory
which is, the ugliest guy did it
which makes it you, Joe Gage.
So I take it, you deduced, the coffee was poisoned
while you were murdering the old man?
Yes.
Well, mi negro amigo
during that whole incident
I was sitting on that side of the room
playing "Silent Night" on the piano.
Oh, I'm not saying, you poisoned the coffee.
I said, you didn't make the stew.
My theory is
you're working with the man
who poisoned the coffee
and both of you murdered Minnie
Sweet Dave and whoever else picked this bad-luck day
to visit Minnie's Haberdashery this morning
and at some point, you intended
to bushwhack John Ruth
and free Daisy
but you didn't count on the blizzard
and you didn't count on the 2 of us.
hmm
That's as far as I've got. How am I doing?
You're a real imaginative nigger
aren't you?
So do you intend to murder me
based on a far-fetched nigger theory
or can you prove it, cabron?
It isn't so far-fetched, Señor Bob
and it's a little bit more than a theory.
How long did you say you've been working for Minnie?
4 months.
mmm
See, if you'd have been here 2 and a half years ago
you'd know about that sign that used to hang up over the bar.
Did Minnie mention that to you?
No.
Do you want to know what that sign said, Señor Bob?
"No dogs or Mexicans allowed."
Now, Minnie hung that sign up
the day she opened this haberdashery
and it hung over that bar every day
till she took it down a little over 2 years ago.
Do you know why she took it down?
She started letting in dogs.
Now, Minnie liked just about everybody
but she sure didn't
like Mexicans.
So when you tell me
Minnie went to the north side to visit her mama
well, I find that highly unlikely
but OK... maybe
but when you tell me
Minnie Mink took the Haberdashery
the most precious thing to her in the whole world
and left it in the hands of a, God-damned, Mexican!
Well, that's what I meant in the barn
when I said that sure doesn't sound like Minnie.
Now I am calling you a liar
Señor Bob
and if you're lying
which you are
then you killed Minnie
and Sweet Dave.
Four measly bullets
and there goes Señor Bob
but that still doesn't get us any closer
to which one of you poisoned the coffee, though
does it, Chris?
No, it sure doesn't.
Now, one of you poisoned this coffee
to free Daisy.
If I don't hear a confession
from one of you motherfuckers quick, fast and in a hurry
I'm going to pour this whole pot of coffee
down that bitch's, God-damned, throat.
OK. The time's up.
Stop.
All right. I did it.
It was me. I poisoned the coffee.
I, fucking, knew it.
Oh.
You're going to die now, you murdering bastard.
Major Warren, please let me send this ugly
son of a bitch to hell.
You killed O.B.
He was worth 10 of you.
Warren, can I kill him?
Say adios to your huevos.
Major Warren!
I haven't got any gun
Sheriff!
Go.
whoa
- whoa - Hey, Charly, my boy.
How the hell are you?
Hiya, Ed. Hiya, Judy.
Yes.
Ah.
How many have you got?
A full house today, friend.
I've got 1 in there, waiting.
Well, he's going to have to keep on waiting.
We haven't got any room.
Well, you need to tell Minnie
because he's been here 2 days
and Minnie wants him out of here.
Well, I can't give him a seat I don't have.
Listen. Why don't you take the passengers inside
and introduce them to Minnie
and warm yourself up and drink some coffee.
Yes.
Here we are, everybody:
"Minnie's Haberdashery."
Step outside. You and your friends
can stretch your legs.
When you're ready, step on inside
and get them warm by the fire and get some coffee into you.
I'll introduce you to Minnie.
Hiya, Minnie.
Now, Minnie, I'm not trying to tell you
how to run your business but I would think coffee
would be the first thing you'd make.
Come on in, everybody. Don't be shy.
Hats!
Everybody, this is "Minnie" and this is her place.
Behind me, plucking that chicken, is "Gemma".
Ah.
She has a lovely smile, that Gemma.
Now, the fellow in the uniform: I don't know
but the one he's playing chess with is "Sweet Dave".
Hiya, Dave.
Hey, Judy.
And, Minnie
these are the passengers.
Well, that's not good enough.
Go on. Take away those rags.
Let's see some faces. Let's hear some names.
"Oswaldo Mobray", madam.
"Joe Gage".
"Bob".
And I'm "Jody".
It's a pleasant surprise to find such a warm sanctuary
in the middle of such a cold hell.
Well, make yourselves comfortable.
Get warm by the fire.
We're just going to go and warm ourselves
by the stove, if that's all right.
Oh stove, fireplace... whatever.
Just get warm.
Oh and Judy said something
about the best coffee in the world.
Ah, yes. I do believe Judy did say something
about the best coffee in the world.
Well, I don't know about all that
but I'll tell you what it is.
It's hot, it's strong, and it's good
and in this snow
it sure enough warms your ass up.
You don't need to sell it, Minnie. You need to make it.
And you need to get your ass out there
and help Charly with those bags and get Ed in here.
Yes, madam.
- But fix that coffee. - I'll fix you.
I don't know... some old man.
Well, I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it.
I'm just telling you what she said.
Anyway, she sent me out here to help Charly.
She wants to talk to you.
Charly, have you got a hold of these fellows?
I've got them, Ed.
Miss Minnie, would you roll me a cigarette?
Sure, honey.
I smoke Red Apple tobacco.
Is that all right?
That's my favorite.
Don't mind me, gentlemen.
I'm just watching.
Do you play?
You know, I must have had at least 12 people
teach me that, God-damned, game.
I just never could keep the moves in my head
but if I'm not disturbing
I'd like to watch.
Hell no! I like whipping
this old man's ass in front of a audience.
You aren't whipping shit!
Merci beaucoup, Mademoiselle Minnie.
Oh, that's real nice.
What is that?
That's French.
Do you speak French?
Oui.
"Oui"? What does that mean?
It means "yes."
Oui, yes.
Hey, Dave. Ask me if my ass is fat.
What?
Ask me if my ass is fat.
It is.
I said ask me.
Why?
Just do it.
Is your ass fat?
Oui.
Look at that, John. I can speak French.
Are you the
jelly bean salesman around here?
How many peppermint sticks do I get for a nickel?
5.
All right.
- Here you go. - Thank you, sugar.
OK.
Allow me to assist you, madam.
I'm bringing in your bags
in case anybody wants to change your clothes before Red Rock.
Oh.
A peppermint stick?
Thanks.
So why do they call you "6-Horse Judy" anyway?
Because I'm the only Judy you've ever seen
that can drive a 6-horse team.
Oh, yeah.
A kind of, a stupid question!
Do you mind holding this for me?
Ah...
rock steady, madam
rock steady.
You've got a very sweet little accent.
Where's that from? England?
I take exception to that.
- New Zealand. - Careful, madam... precarious.
Is that anywhere near Old Zealand?
mmm
Auckland?
What, the fuck's, an Auckland?
It's where I'm from.
It's our biggest city.
Coffee!
The coffee's ready.
Well, it's about, damned, time!
The best coffee on the mountain!
Oh, I don't know about all that.
Stagecoach drivers like it; passengers not so much.
Most find it a mite too strong.
It can't be too strong on this mountain.
Thank you.
Well?
What do you think?
Shit! Fuck!
Shit!
Yes.
- mmm, si. - He adds something...
not much, but something.
What you think, Pete?
Well, I must admit
he does make the setup more convincing.
hmm
OK.
I'll talk to the old man.
You 3 collect the bodies
and chuck them in that well out there
and then start unhitching the horses
and getting them in the barn and getting them fed.
Well, hang on. I mean, putting the horses away
that's easy enough
but dragging these fat bastards up and down the mountain
that's, fucking, impossible, mate!
OK.
Well, this is a store, so there's got to be
a wheelbarrow around here somewhere.
Start with the horses
and as soon as I get through with this old hickory tree
I'll come out and help you. OK?
Hey, Pete. Grab my coat, will you?
Look.
I just started working here.
Whatever Minnie did to make you mad:
I had nothing to do with it.
hmm
Well, old man
if you
were a cat
what just happened here
would count as 1 of your 9 lives.
Do you realize how close you came
to being tossed on a pile of niggers?
- Yes. - Yes.
And when it comes to that pile of niggers
that we're building out the back
it won't take anything to make you general of it.
Do you believe that?
I'd expect no less.
Not so fast, old man.
You might have a way out of this yet.
Later today
a dirty
son of a gun
is going to come in here
and he's going to have my sister with him
and he is going to have her in chains.
He's taking her to Red Rock to be hung.
Do you know why?
No.
$10,000...
that's why.
Now, when he gets here
I'm going to kill that fellow and turn my sister loose.
Now, do you have any reason why you would want to interfere
with me saving my sister from a hangman's rope?
No.
You don't?
No, I don't.
Are you sure you don't?
I mean, we did just kill Minnie and Sweet Dave.
Now, you and Sweet Dave looked
mighty chummy over here.
I just met these people.
I don't give a damn about them
or you, or your sister
or any other son of a bitch in Wyoming, for that matter.
That is a good answer
old man.
Now, when they get here
you just sit your ass in this chair
and you don't do anything.
You don't say anything.
"Hello"
"thank you"
"good night":
that's about it...
maybe your name
but that's it.
"Hello"
"thank you"
"good night"
- and maybe my name. - And maybe your name.
mm-hmm Be an old man.
Be dotty.
Go to sleep
and don't you say anything...
and I mean anything
to that bounty hunter that's got my sister.
Do you understand?
Yes.
When it's safe, I'll kill him
and free my sister
and leave you be.
A deal?
A deal.
Thank you.
During the next 4 hours
Jody and the boys chucked the bodies down the well
put away the horses
tidied up around Minnie's
stashed weapons for further use
and waited for John Ruth and Daisy's stage to arrive.
All right, boys.
This is it.
Let's get ready.
Now, remember.
It doesn't matter if we have 4 men or 40.
We are still going to be facing John Ruth
chained to my sister
with a pistol pointed at her belly.
Now, killing that fellow
before he kills my sister isn't going to be easy
but you'd better believe, that's exactly what we going to do!
So the name of the game here is "patience".
Trapped here for 2 or 3 days
at some point he will close his eyes
and that's when you blow the top of his head off.
Remember, old man.
If my sister doesn't make it off of this mountain alive
neither do you.
I'll do my best.
whoa, easy!
whoa
Good luck, mate.
What the hell is going on?
We weren't expecting another stage tonight.
Yes, I can see you've
already got another one up in here.
No.
We've just got through putting the horses away.
Well, this isn't the normal line
but we are stuck on the wrong side of a blizzard
so it looks like you're stuck with us.
Now you've got to do another one.
Are Minnie and Sweet Dave inside?
They aren't here.
I'm running the place while they're gone.
Where are Minnie and Sweet Dave?
He says they aren't here.
He's looking after the place while they're gone.
Who are you?
I'm "Bob".
Well, whoever you are, help O.B. with the horses.
Get them out of this cold before that blizzard hits us.
whoa... Are you all right?
Wait.
Esperate.
I've just put those other horses away.
If you need it done fast, you need to help.
I've got 2 of my best men on it.
You've heard him, freeloaders!
Get to work.
All right. You 2, unhook the leaders.
Come on. Let's go.
Open up.
You have to kick it open.
Kick it open.
How are you doing, old boy?
They've shot my nuts off.
I'm freezing and burning up at the same time
and bleeding like a stuck pig.
I think I'm going to die
and these motherfuckers did it!
That's how I'm doing.
How are you doing?
Well, my leg hurts real bad
but I think, if I put all my weight on my right foot
I was just being sarcastic.
I don't give a fuck about your leg.
huh
Now, you just
make yourself comfortable.
Don't worry about my comfort.
Shit! I can't feel my ass any more.
Worry about these owl hoots
and that bushwhacking nut-shooter in the basement.
All right.
You... the fellow in the basement...
You either give up by the time I count to 3
or I shoot Domergue in the head.
1...
2...
No. Don't shoot her in the head.
I'm coming up.
Hold on now, you bushwhacking sack-shooter.
You just open the door.
We'll tell you when to come up.
Now throw out your pistol...
toward the bed.
I'll bet, he's got another.
Now throw out your other pistol.
I haven't got another pistol.
Well, you'd better shit another pistol out of your ass
because if you don't throw one up here
in the next 2 seconds, we're going to kill this bitch.
See?
I told you.
Now, with your hands where we can see them
slowly come on up.
How are you doing, dummy?
Better, now that I see your ugly face.
How do you like that
you bushwhacking castrator!
What are you doing! He was giving up.
It took him too long so I did it for him.
Joe Gage, get your ass over here and shut this trap door.
I'm sorry, honey.
May I sit in a chair?
Yes, you may.
Keep your hands flat on that table
and don't move them.
Mannix
you sure picked the wrong time to turn into a nigger lover.
Don't you see? That nigger and John Ruth
put you, smack-dab, in the middle of danger?
You're about to be murdered
in some nigger named "Minnie's" house
and you don't even know why.
OK... bitch.
I'll bite.
Why?
I'm working with all 3 of those fellows
but not because they've got butterflies in their belly
about me, but because we're all gang members:
the "Jody Domingre Gang".
That fellow you just killed in the basement
was "Jody Domingre"
my brother.
Well, who, the hell, is "Jody Domingre"?
Do you want to tell him, bounty man?
He was a big bad cat worth $50,000
and every member of his gang was worth at least 10.
Which finally explains why you're worth 10.
And what's going to happen when that sun comes out, nigger?
So there are my brother's 15 men coming straight here for us.
Tell him, Grouch.
Jody's got 15 men waiting in Red Rock.
We couldn't kill John Ruth and free Daisy here.
Their job was to sack the town, kill John Ruth
and free Daisy there.
Now with my brother dead, I'm in charge of this gang.
- Right, boys? - That's right, Daisy.
Oh yeah.
And Chris, I am telling you
you haven't done anything yet that we can't forgive
so let's make a deal.
No deals, bitch!
Are you going to let that nigger speak for you, Chris?
Hold it, Warren.
Seeing that she hasn't got anything to sell
I'm, kind of, curious about her sales pitch.
Humor me.
All right, bitch.
What's your deal?
Easy.
Take your gun and shoot that nigger dead.
Then we sit here all nice-like for the next 2 days.
When the snow melts, we go to Mexico and you go on to Red Rock
and get that star pinned on your chest.
Hey, Pete. How much can we pay him?
Well, we could give him Marco.
Bob's real name is "Marco the Mexican".
He's worth $12,000.
That's "Marco the Mexican"?
Precisely, yeah.
Flaughsy... Shit.
Now that I've blown his face off, Marco isn't worth a peso.
Oh, sh...
Well then, if I die in the next 2 days
which is more than likely, you can have me.
Under the name of "English Pete Hickox"
I've got a federal bounty of $15,000 on my head.
It's all yours, Chris.
If you keep talking, Pete
you're going to talk yourself to death.
Joe Gage, who are you?
"Grouch Douglass".
Have you heard of him?
Yes, I've heard of "Grouch Douglass".
He's worth 10, just like Daisy.
Well, remind me
why we wouldn't just kill all you and cash in.
Oh you can kill us all but you'll never spend a cent
of that bounty money
and you'll never leave this mountain alive
because when that snow melts the rest of Jody's gang
all 15 of them that are waiting in Red Rock, are coming here.
Now, let's say, you shoot us all.
If you really want all that Domingre Gang bounty money
you've still got to get all our corpses into Red Rock
and that isn't going to be so easy
because I doubt you can drive a 4-horse team
and that wagon out there is too heavy for a 2-horse team.
So that means you're going to have to lead
a string of horses into Red Rock
and with that deep snow after a blizzard
you aren't going to be able to get away with any more than
say, 1 body per horse.
So that's you leading a string of 4 horses into Red Rock
and with all those horses in that snow
and you by your lonesome, you're going to be a mite poky
and you're going to run, smack-dab, into the Domingre Gang
and again, Grouch, how many is that?
15 killers strong!
And when those 15 killers come across you
in possession of all our dead bodies
they aren't just going to kill you and that nigger.
They're going to go back to Red Rock
and kill every son of a bitch in that town.
Are you really the sheriff of Red Rock?
Do you want to save the town?
Then shoot that nigger dead.
Jesus Christ!
Oh, ho, ho.
You believe in Jesus now, huh, bitch?
Well, good, because you're about to meet him.
Anybody else want to make a deal?
The deal still stands, Chris.
You haven't done anything we can't forgive.
It's all still on that nigger.
You shoot him dead, take my body
sit out in the snow
with Daisy and Grou...
You cunt!
Mannix
give me my pistol.
Give it here.
So, you were saying
we sit here, all nice and friendly like
for the next 2 days.
Then the snow melts, you leave here
meet up with your gang, and hightail it to Mexico.
That's the deal, right?
Yes.
And I get Oswaldo and Joe Gage?
Yes.
But Jody's worth $50,000. What about his body?
Are you going to make a deal
with this diabolical bitch?
I'm not saying I'm going to make a deal with her.
We just talking.
Calm down.
So what about Jody's body and the $50,000?
You're getting greedy, Reb.
No deal.
We're taking Jody's body back with us.
He's got children.
So I kill Warren and we're all friends?
Yes.
No deal, tramp!
Chris
you're making the biggest mistake of your life.
When our boys get here in a couple of days
they're going to cut your nuts off
and there won't be a stick left in that town unburnt.
Well, I guess I should be plumb scared right now, huh?
If you had any brains, you would be.
You see
here's the problem, Daisy.
In order for me to be scared of your threats
I've got to believe in those 15 extra gang members
waiting it out in Red Rock
and boy oh boy! I sure don't.
What I believe is
"Joe Gage" or "Grouch Douglass" or whatever, the fuck, his name was
poisoned the coffee
and you watched him do it
and you watched me pour a cup and you didn't say shit
and
I believe you are what you've always been:
a lying bitch who will do anything
to cheat the rope waiting for her in Red Rock
including shitting out 15 extra gang members
whenever you need be.
Oh
And
I believe, when it comes to what's left
of the Jody Domingre Gang, I'm looking at them
right here, right now
dead on this, mother-fucking, floor.
God-damned, right!
Then you're going to die on this mountain, Chris
because my brother leads an army of men.
Horse shit!
My daddy led an army.
He led a renegade army, fighting for a lost cause.
My daddy held up to 400 men together after the war
with nothing but their respect in his command.
Your brother's just an owl hoot who led a gang of killers.
I don't feel so good.
Oh, shit.
ha
Are you still alive, white boy?
Fuck!
Mannix...
Hey, boy.
Get up.
Chris Mannix
if your ass isn't nailed to the floor, wake, the fuck, up.
Wake up, white boy.
I'm not dead yet, you black bastard.
Chris Mannix, I may have misjudged you!
Now we've come to the part of the story
where I blow your, God-damned, head off.
No. Don't shoot her.
Why, the hell, not?
John Ruth...
Now, John Ruth was one mighty, mighty bastard
but the last thing that bastard did before he died
was save your life.
We're going to die, white boy.
We haven't got any say in that
but there is 1 thing left we do have a say in
and that's how we kill this bitch
and I say, shooting's too good for her.
John Ruth could have shot her anywhere, anytime along the way
but John Ruth was "The Hangman"
and when "The Hangman" catches you
you don't die by any bullet.
When "The Hangman" catches you, you hang.
"You only need to hang mean bastards..."
mm-hmm
"... but mean bastards: you need to hang."
As my first and final act
as the sheriff of Red Rock
I sentence you, Domergue
to hang by the neck until death.
Hang on, Daisy.
I want to watch.
Now, that was a nice dance.
Oh.
That sure was pretty.
Shit!
Hey.
Can I see that Lincoln letter?
"Dear Marquis"
"I hope this letter finds you"
"in good health and stead."
"I'm doing fine"
"although I wish there were more hours in a day."
"There's just so much to do."
"Times are changing slowly but surely"
"and it's men like you that will make a difference."
"Your military success is a credit not only to you"
"but your race as well."
"I'm very proud every time I hear news of you."
"We still have a long way to go"
"but hand in hand, I know we will get there."
"I just want to let you know, you're in my thoughts."
"Hopefully, our paths will cross in the future."
"Until then I remain your friend."
"Old Mary Todd's calling"
"so I guess it must be time for bed."
"Respectfully, Abraham Lincoln."
"Old Mary Todd."
That's a nice touch.
Yes.
Thanks.