This part is rough now, y'all. I can't bring myself to muster up even the slightest fragrance of cynicism regarding little William Bullock all laid out on Doc's table with his mama hanging over him and his diddy standing there with tears in his eyes. I mean, it's kind of killing me. Doc, too, is a bit beside himself. Taking Bullock aside, he tells Bullock that the damage to William's brain and body will be fatal. Bullock, all stoic and moist-eyed, asks if it will be of some comfort to William to hear his mother's voice. "It might be," Doc says, after a pause. "His father's, too."
Martha is by the bedside, repeatedly wringing water through a rag, staring at her son. "Tell your wife," Doc whispers, "that it won't hurt him to put a cloth to his brow."
Back at the Gem, Jewel is preparing to go on a mission from Trixie, but needs some clarity on her orders. "Just stand there?" she asks. "No," Trixie snarks, "build yourself a fuckin' shrine." No, Jewel says, she just wants to know if she should knock and let Doc know she's standing "the fuck outside." I'm not sure why Trixie can't go, herself -- maybe it's too painful for her -- but she tells Jewel, yeah, to do that. As Jewel leaves, Sol comes in complaining that Al has summoned him and is now making him wait. "I suppose, then," Trixie suggests, "you should sit the fuck down." Sol's on a roll, though. "And I come, too," he says, "and find you like you never left this place to learn your numbers." Trixie paces back and forth asking if learning numbers from Sol gives him access to her whereabouts the rest of her fuckin' days. Sol hmphs, saying he's leaving, and that if Al wants him, he can come find him. Trixie suggests he just wait and find out what Al wants, and Sol asks why Trixie just doesn't tell him herself. She doesn't know, she says, and they get in this big bitch-off with Sol calling Trixie Al's lapdog and accusing her of coming to learn numbers for Al's gain. Trixie has the balls to act offended by that, and Sol finally backs down and says he'll have a drink. "Try the horse's piss," Trixie says, pouring. "It's on fuckin' special."
In the thoroughfare, Leon and Con are dragging Mose as best they can. I should say, Leon is dragging him, or trying to, while Con limps along beside, groaning and clutching his crotch. "I wish I could help you more," Con says to his comrade. "Been walkin' for two hours," Leon pants under the strain. "I'm startin' to think that place is a fuckin' mirage." Haaaaaa! Damn, Leon. You do need a better sled.
Sol is still waiting for Al in the main room of the Gem when Dan walks in with Adams, yelling, "He asked to see Hawkeye, first." Well, hell, Sol's not blind! He smarts off: "THIS is ADAMS!" and Dan just about snaps on him. "I know who the FUCK it is. Now shut the fuck up, and sit down." Sol seems like he's thinking about maybe bowing up on Dan, here, but he wisely just goes on and, you know, sits the fuck down.