Deadwood TV Show - Something Very Expensive - Deadwood Recaps, Deadwood Reviews, Deadwood Episodes | TWoP

Recapped by Al Lowe · Aired 2005-04-10

We open this week in Al's room. He's on the edge of his bed in his long johns, getting a follow-up exam from Doc. "You, Al, are an object lesson in the healing powers of obstinacy and a hostile disposition," Doc tells him (and don't think that phrase won't be getting some air time around my house every time I feel under the weather -- I can hear my husband practicing it now in the other room). Yay! Al's getting better, and Doc is impressed. Al says his leg and arm on the stroke side feel waxy, but Doc tells him not to worry, because the important thing is how they respond to stimuli, "and they are much fucking improved." Doc goes on: "In the overall, sir," he says, leaning in close to Al's face, "I call you...a miracle." Al raises his one good eyebrow so expressively and so accurately, I'd like to see that eyebrow nominated for a Golden Globe. Come on. At least a People's Choice.

Doc steps out and tells Johnny and Dan that Al's "ready to meet the world," and the grin on Johnny's face says it all. They go up to see him.

Meanwhile, on the porch of the Bella Union, Cy and Wolcott are sharing a cigar. Cy wants to know how much longer he has to keep buying up the claims. Wolcott answers (in Dillahunt's tired, superior tone that is half whine, half Yale Drama Student) that it won't be long now. Cy says this is good, because if it goes on much longer, he might as well start dancing out in the street, baying at the moon, to further his image as a crazy person. Wolcott repeats that "this phase is nearly over" -- they look up to see a wagon being driven onto the thoroughfare by Wu's rival, Lee, and his Tong henchman -- "even as another begins."

In her room at the Grand Central, Mrs. Garret, Ellsworth, and Sol are having a little meeting, complete with tea. I must say, we're seeing a lot of tea being drunk in Deadwood these last few episodes. Mrs. G surprises Sol by proposing that they start a bank, backed by her gold holdings, to be headed up by Sol. You'll remember that Sol and Bullock have had plans to start a bank for a while, so Sol is doubly surprised. Ellsworth watches him warily as Sol hems and haws that, yes, it is a good idea, but his "other obligations" will preclude him from being the man in charge. Mrs. G blanches and must know he's talking about his relationship with Bullock, for she asks, "Oughtn't you, or anyone urging such connections as disqualifying you, think of the good of the camp?" She looks a bit more peaked when she adds, "We all have...complicating obligations..." and gets up to be sick in her wash basin. Ellsworth and Sol stand and give each other a few knowing glances.

By Al Lowe

Commissioner Jarry stomps down the stairs of the Bella Union, luggage in hand, to find Cy and Wolcott enjoying their tea. He's in a snit. "You washed your hands of me, Mr. Tolliver," he says, "no less contemptibly than Pontius Pilate." Cy is unmoved. "Sometimes," he answers, "the shadow is cast by the sheltering hand." Jarry is dumbfounded. He asks if Cy is saying that the rabble rousers that tried to kill him were under Cy's control. No, Cy tells him. He wouldn't have them. All he's saying is that he understands why they're upset, and that even though Jarry is pissed, the whole snafu had the desired result of causing the hooples to put more of their claims up for sale, with "prices pressed downward." Now it is Jarry's turn to be unimpressed. "I want to get out of here," he says. Cy tries again, indicating some loitering whores and suggesting Jarry get a quick wind of his timepiece before he leaves. Nope, dude's leaving, and one gets the feeling that the best timepiece winders in Switzerland couldn't make him stay. Cy tells him that they'll "fuckin' miss ya," and Jarry steps over to Wolcott, telling him that he finds him to be the most severe disappointment of all. Not even bothering to look up from his paper, Wolcott drones, "Often to myself, as well."

Wolcott furrows his brow and asks Cy what impressions he thinks Jarry will take back to Yankton. "That your money spends," Cy answers, smarmily, "and I'm a dangerous man with whom to disagree." Ah, now, this proves that Cy...doesn't get it. We've seen a lot of dangerous men in the camp, thus far, and though Cy is definitely crazy, and though he is unquestionably wearing the most makeup, can we really call him "dangerous" in the sense that he means? I think not -- and that's probably precisely why Wolcott chose him to carry out these bungled plans. Simply being evil does not make you dangerous; it's how you use your evil that counts.

Al and Trixie are having a little chat over his morning tea and her morning cig. Trixie's smoking a ton lately, isn't she? This is a beautiful scene, many-layered in its complexity. "How's the Jew-fuckin' going?" Al asks, seemingly casual. Trixie says it's all right, and Al asks what she can tell him about the activities going on at the hardware store. Trixie explains that Sol met with Mrs. Garret that morning. She gives him the background that Sol had spoken to "the other" about forming a bank, and had mentioned using Mrs. G's capital in that enterprise. Al wants to know who this "other" is. Trixie was just trying to spare them both by not mentioning Bullock, but she now names him. Al tells her, trying to conceal what COULD BE a real emotion, that he hopes she's getting paid for all this sex -- if she gives it to Sol free, he says, he'll lose respect for her. She says Sol's teaching her accounts, and Al sees value in that. "Learning," he says, "is like currency to them." Trixie strikes a confidential tone and tells Al that Sol "stares in my eyes when he fucks me, longing-like." Taking another drag of her cigarette, she looks closely at Al. "You don't look so bad," she tells him. "Yeah," he says, as one might say to an acquaintance on the street, "thing, up and about."

By Al Lowe

In the thoroughfare, the coach has arrived, bearing arrivals. A lady is trying to step out onto the street when Jarry rushes up, extending his hand. She thinks he's helping her down, but he actually pushes her back into the coach, rudely shoving her aside. Ever the gentleman, Merrick rushes over from his shop and helps down the discombobulated woman, introducing himself in the process. "I am Mary Stokes, Mr. Merrick," she tells him. He recognizes her name as the new schoolteacher who had been scheduled to arrive in town, and my husband and I screech with delight, as we have a very good, wickedly brilliant friend named Mary Stokes who IS a teacher. Sometimes, in fact, her high school English class is a lot like an episode of Deadwood. Poor ol' Miss Stokes. Both of them.

Back at the Gem, Trixie is leaving Al's office. She passes by the line of supplicants and makes the International Sign for Blow Job to E.B., sing-songing, "Liar!" E.B. looks put out, and gets up to go in to see Al. Meanwhile, Ellsworth comes in the back door, looking for Trixie. He tells her his nerves have had a shock, that Mrs. Garret took poorly at her morning meeting. To further demonstrate this, he makes the International Sign for Vomiting. (Y'all want to know something? I haven't vomited in, like, 15 years. I know! Anyway, I haven't. I'm sure I will now immediately come down with malaria. Sorry.) Trixie pulls him into what, I guess, is the whores' prep room, and bogarts a bottle of booze off one of the girls, being sure to wipe the mouth of the bottle on her sleeve. Ellsworth adds that, as a matter of fact, Mrs. G hasn't been looking too great the last few weeks. Trixie gets mad that he's kind of hinting around about a possible pregnancy, and Ellsworth asks how sharing observations make him "liable to rebuke," the modern day translation of which is, "I was just sayin'!"

By Al Lowe

Now they have a little who's-on-first. Trixie: "You got her knocked up, in otherwords?" Ellsworth: "ME?! I ain't got her in any way at all, Trixie!" No, what Trixie meant was, he figures her to be pregnant, right? Ellsworth is still on the defense, swigging to calm his nerves. Trixie asks him, even though he is just Mrs. G's employee, and nothing else, if he'll "do the right thing." It gets complicated, here. Trixie wants to know if Ellsworth would marry Mrs. G so that she could have the baby she wants so badly, but not have to scandalize Bullock's wife and child with his illegitimate issue. It takes a while for this to sink in for Ellsworth. When he finally gets it, he wonders if Mrs. G would even have him, should he ask. "I'd work on that, ," Trixie answers. All those years under Al's tutelage really taught Trixie how to scheme. Seems like she's using it for good in this case, though.

Outside, Merrick is unloading the belongings of Miss Stokes from the coach. He makes small talk, and eventually works up the nerve to stammer out an invitation to show her around the camp when she's settled in. She smiles and says she'd be grateful.

Back in Al's office, E.B. is finishing up his report to Al on everything that's happened since Al's been ill. He shakily tries to gloss over his embarrassment with Wolcott, but Al doesn't buy it. E.B. explains the whole Wolcott/Hearst/Tolliver thing to Al, in a nutshell. When Al regards him with silence, E.B. gets nervous again and tells Al that he meant no disloyalty. "You looked out for yourself," Al responds, reasonably, "against the chance I'd die." E.B. stammers that he never wished for that outcome, of course. "In any case," he goes on, trying to sound optimistic, "here we are, exactly as before in strength!" With that, he raises his feeble arms in an awkward victory salute as Al rolls his eyes, rings his bell, and brushes him off.

By Al Lowe

Bullock has opened the hardware store in Sol's absence. (Someone make a note that Bullock needs a haircut. His 'do is requiring too much dippity these days.) Sol comes in and tells Bullock where he's been: with Mrs. G, talking about the bank. It goes over about as well as you'd expect it to go when you tell your hypersensitive friend you've been hanging out with his ex, talking about ways steal his ideas. Bullock nearly grinds his teeth down to nubs. He doesn't "give a fuck" that Sol's trip to see Mrs. Garret was at her invitation, so much so that when a customer walks in mid-clench, he yells at the guy to get out. Bullock is especially mad that this is the first he's hearing of this invitation from Mrs. Garret. Sol tries to explain, but Bullock gets crazy-eyed on him. "You told ME none of it," he clenches. "Suspecting maybe you mightn't act rational," Sol explains. Bullock clenches a smug smile: "I bet you told the whore." Wwrrrrrrrrkkk, the needle comes off the record. Sol doesn't dignify that with a response, and tries to walk away, saying they're done talking about this subject for now. Bullock doesn't like that. "If you keep it up," Sol tells him, "we're going to fight, and you'll have to work by yourself while I convalesce." Aw, Sol. You could take him. I'm sure Bullock could be distracted in a fight if you, like, held up a mirror or something. He'd at least have to take a break to hero-worship himself. Bullock can't deal with this whole drama, so he bails, slamming his hat down on his held-high head.

It's the Miss Iz/Adams hour over in Al's office. I think my girl's about to sign her death warrant, people. She tells Al all sorts of lies: that Mrs. G used laudanum in front of her, that she admitted that she killed Brom, that she claimed Al to have been the instrument in the killing. Al seems to be believing this malarkey, but I don't know. Miss Iz clearly thinks she's pulling the thing off, in any case, and goes on. She allows Al to walk through what he assumes to be her plan: that he admit to the killing, confess to having been hired by Mrs. G, and then subsequently escape, "leaving the widow lonely at the bar of justice." Miss Iz is all smiles. That's exactly how she sees it going down. Adams, by the way, is watching this whole thing like a tennis match. Al finally squints warily at the cool Miss Iz, asking who she works for. "People of means," she answers. "The people you work for were hired by people of means," he snaps back, "don't get cagey, Miss Isringhausen."

By Al Lowe

Miss Iz goes icy, telling Al not to get distracted from this opportunity for a payoff, that who she works for shouldn't concern him. "Too fucking true," Al says, "[that's] why I pray, firmly, it ain't the Pinkertons whose pay you're in, and that her dead husband's people hired to steal her gold. I got unrelated reasons to hate those cocksuckers." Not blinking, Miss Iz offers him $50,000 for the deal, "separate from pay [to] your subordinates." Al points to Adams ands asks if the sex he's received thus far will count against his pay. "No charge for the pussy," Miss Iz says calmly. Never blinking himself, Al leans in and asks Miss Iz if she'd mind if he took the day to make his decision. "I've got a lot on my plate," he says, "and I'm feeling less than my full fuckin' self." She says she'll wait to hear his decision from Adams. "Do," Al smirks. "That would be grand."

The two leave and cross the thoroughfare. Adams is pissed at having been taken advantage of. "I guess if I called you a c*nt," he says, "I needn't expect you to faint." Miss Iz says no, obviously no longer interested in keeping up the façade that she's some innocent flower. He asks her if "getting struck" would make it on her fake "first" list from last week. He tells her to clear out of his room. She asks him to come and fuck her first. "I'd fear a snakebite," he snarks, but she remains resolute. "Come up and fuck me," she says, stepping close, "and I'll answer every [question] you want to ask."

Down at Nuttall's, the dethroned king of the hoopleheads, Steve, is drowning his sorrows. It's not enough that his gold claim may be worthless, or that his grand plan to get Commissioner Jarry blew up in his face, now Bullock's got to walk in and get in his face. Striding through the door, Bullock asks if he's sober enough to listen. Steve spits on the floor. Bullock ain't impressed. "Did you just intend to insult me?" he asks. Steve's all excuuuuse me, and Bullock tries to be reasonable. He knows, he says, that Steve faces "bidness reverses," and that "people angry at their difficulties, often act like fuckin' idiots," but that there will be no murder in Deadwood of people of any color, or officials of any kind. Steve says, damn, he gets it, if Bullock would just stop rubbing his nose in it. CLENCH. Bullock hits him with a right cross, knocking him to the floor, repeats that Steve's not to misconduct himself again in the camp, and strides out.

By Al Lowe

Some jag at the bar wonders aloud if Steve has to take what the sheriff's dishing out. "Apparently so," Nuttall says, trying to get the guy to shut up. The stranger starts going on and on about blind Lady Justice, and how Steve's got custom on his side that he doesn't have to put up with Bullock's shit. Steve likes the way this sounds. He begins thinking of remedies to the problem. Like...uh, stabbing Bullock's horse in the ass, and carving a note into its side reading, "Bullock, I fucked your horse!" I suppose the "Lylas, Steve," is implied. "And," Steve clarifies, "if I carve 'fuck,' I WILL have fucked the horse, beforehand." The stranger says he's preaching to the choir, and Steve walks out, a renewed drunk. "Mingled the shit, somewhat," the stranger says to Nuttall, who has watched this scene in disgust. Nuttall suggests that if the guy's looking for a hobby, he ought to take up whittling.

Back at the Bella Union, Cy is signing over the titles of the claims he's recently bought to Wolcott. They have a little chat while Cy counts his money. "Let's agree," Cy says, "them chink whores make a poor appearance. And as far as locales for fuckin', those cribs they're in, lack allure." Wolcott agrees, but says that this might attract "the intended clientele." Cy's got to take a sidebar. "Now that's an attitude right there, I want us to counsel on...smart-alecky sort of attitude, almost with a quality of fuckin' anger to it." Wolcott says he thinks his attitude is just fine. Here's where Cy gets too big for his britches. He pseudo-casually suggests that that may be so, but that he hears Wolcott is a "dangerous lay" and asks if he's ever inclined to "ride one off a cliff." Wolcott looks up. He's disturbed, he says, that his private conduct has been spoken of, and Cy goes in for the kill, asking what Mr. Hearst would think if he were to hear about these rumors. He goes too far, rattling on about how he himself is past surprise and doesn't judge. Wolcott lays down the smack. A man who thinks himself past surprise is no friend of his, he says, and may BE surprised to find out "that Mr. Hearst already knows of my inclinations, and finds them immaterial." They get pissy at the end, and Wolcott leaves in a controlled snit.

By Al Lowe

Seems Adams has taken Miss Iz up on her offer of a bang for his questions answered. Post-coitally, she explains that when Mrs. Garret advertised for a tutor, her employers saw it and sent her to Deadwood. Adams asks what she had been doing before heading to camp, and Miss Iz says she was piloting a steamboat. She says she isn't sure who hired her people to go after Mrs. G, and Adams figures it's Brom Garret's parents. She says that would make sense, and asks why Al hates the Pinkertons. Miss Iz, we're all looking forward to finding that out. "Beats me," Adams says, with heavy sarcasm, "a stalwart organization like 'at?" He continues, asking: "Did you help send them miners up the fuckin' scaffold in Pennsylvania?" Miss Iz: "I was busy on the Mississip'." I'm going to miss Miss Isringhausen when they kill her, I think.

Eeek, out in the thoroughfare, Wolcott is coming unraveled. Walking down toward the Chez Amie, he's talking to himself, making the case against Cy and Doris and the WORLD for spreading the word about his indecent habits. He's hung up on Cy saying he's "past surprise." He lists out stuff one might be past in life -- love, warmth, kindness, consideration, justice -- but to be past surprise, he says, would make life an endless tedium. He walks into the Chez Amie, indeed surprising everyone. Maddie, reading at her desk, tells him Carrie is napping, and offers to wake her. "You needn't," he says, indicating Doris. "I'd like to see this young lady just now." Maddie's face shows a little concern, as she instructs Doris to go with Mr. W.

Back outside, Merrick is enjoying showing Mary Stokes around the camp. He's laying it on a little thick, talking about teachers and how great they are. He gets choked up, talking of the reverence in which he holds teachers. She thanks him.

In Al's office, the time has finally come for Wu to get his meeting. He explains, in looks and gestures to his drawings, his concerns about the "San Francisco cocksucker [SFC]," Lee. Al tells him he needs to meet this SFC. Wu's mad and frustrated, and not getting it. "Swedgin?! Cocksuckah?! Meet?!" Yeah, Al tells him, Swedgin's got to meet the cocksucker, to see "how much juice he's got behind him." Wu: "JEWS?!" He jumps up, pointing out the window across the thoroughfare to the hardware store, pantomiming that he has a big nose. Al puts his head in his hands. "No, no, no, Wu. No Jews. Forget Jews!" Wu: "NO JEWS?! No Swedgin, no San Francisco cocksucker, no Jew!" He puts his first two fingers together like you do to indicate that you're tight with someone, saying, "Swedgin! Wu! Hang di!" Shaking his head, Al agrees. "Wu and Swedgin, hang di." I have no idea how to find out what "hang di" means, or even how to spell it, so I'm just gonna say it means "BeFri."

By Al Lowe

Joanie comes into the Chez Amie to find Maddie nervously flipping through her magazine. Joanie says the rest of the girls are at "that new store" mooning over a dress. When...and WHY...is there a fancy dress store in Deadwood? Riddle me that. But, no, you don't have time. Because Maddie's panic in this scene is palpable. Joanie asks her what's wrong, and Maddie tells her Wolcott's in a room with Doris. Joanie wants to know why he's not with Carrie. "Carrie's napping," Maddie says. "I can't imagine what Carrie told Wolcott about Doris to make him want to fuck her..." Maddie is terrified. "Maybe that she reports to Cy Tolliver to keep Wolcott from bouncing Doris off more walls? Look up from your fuckin' magazine, Maddie!" Just then, Wolcott steps out of the room, asking to see Carrie. The three of them freeze. We all wonder about Doris.

In Cy's office, he's boozily laying out a plan of revenge for his henchmen to take against Merrick. He's pissed that Merrick fucked up their plans by not putting Jarry's claim announcement in the paper, rather nailing it the wall, making it appear suspect and causing a panic among the prospectors, thus messing up Cy's play with Wolcott. Yeah, I know. It's complicated. Leon and Con Stapelton don't get it, either. Cy wants them to go in and wreck Merrick's presses, but won't say it outright, and they have to pretty much have it laid out for them. It's a nice scene, but so damn wordy, and I only have ten fingers here.

Back at the Chez Amie, things are heating up. Joanie's in a panic. She wants to go in and see what's going on with Wolcott, Carrie, and Doris. "He ain't the type to be with two women," Joanie says. "I never took his full history," Maddie answers, trying to hold it together. "I'm sayin' he ain't," Joanie insists. Well, you know, technically, she's wrong. Wolcott is, indeed, in the room with both Carrie and Doris. The camera is close on Carrie's crying face, with Wolcott looking only slightly concerned in the background. "What are we to do here, Carrie?" he asks her. Dude, Doris is dead. Carrie is mortified with fear. She tells him to "get rid of her, they'll let you." Wolcott says he supposes she's right, but that's not really the problem. Man, Wolcott is so amazing in this scene. Such calmness. Evil is so much more scary when it's calm.

By Al Lowe

Carrie asks what's the problem, then. "I don't know," Wolcott says. "I can't say. I don't want you to have seen me..." Carrie, who is also fantastic here, says she doesn't care that Wolcott killed Doris. "I mean something different," he says. "I don't want to have been seen..." Shit. Carrie realizes he's talking about the fact that she's seen him without his pants. She takes a deep breath, still crying, and musters up her strength for one final bout of bitchiness: "Then you're fucking crazy...and you're gonna kill me in this fucking shithole." She breaks down a little, still staring at Doris. "Do you know," she asks him, "how to make it not hurt?" He pauses a little -- and who the hell knows if he has any feeling one way or another about what he's about to do as he sits there and reflects -- and Carrie jumps up to make a break for it. He grabs her and quickly slits her throat, and lowers her slowly to the bed, where her body rests on his arm. "Now..." he says, with maximum eveeeel, "I could cut off my arm..." Asshole. He leaves her there, dead, her face still streaked with tears.

I am only beginning to get mad about him killing Carrie when we cut back out to the drawing room, where Joanie is getting ready to go in and find out what's happening. She goes to get her gun, when Maddie stands and draws on her. "Your gun isn't there," she says, crying, "go on, get out." This is awful. They are both in a state of panic. Joanie leaves, and runs crying down the thoroughfare, toward the Bella Union, pausing to acknowledge Charlie Utter in the street.

Back in the Chez Amie, Wolcott has stepped into the drawing room to face Maddie, who stonefacedly asks him what he's done. "Something..." he tells her, "very expensive." Not pausing, she stands again, pointing the gun in his face and demanding "One hundred thousand...for now," as she goes on, she gets more and more hysterical, "and more, when I want it, for as many years as I live...for all the years of my life...DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" Oh, yes, he understands. He slits her throat as well. Mr. W is in no mood to be tested today by selfish people, that much is clear. Maddie doesn't go as quietly as the others, and as she lies dying, Wolcott sits to contemplate his move.

By Al Lowe

Joanie is contemplating it as well, and runs into the Bella Union, telling Cy there's trouble at her place. He smartassedly asks where Sheriff Bullock is when you need him. Joanie is so frightened. She asks Cy if Doris had mentioned Wolcott beating on her, because that's the nature of the trouble she's talking about. The blood drains from Cy's face -- or, you know, we can assume it does, since Powers Boothe has on so much makeup, you can't really tell -- and he starts immediately for the door, growling that she's not to follow him. Joanie yells at the bartender to give her all the money he has, and tells Lila to run out and flag down Mr. Utter and have him arrange for a wagon. I'm loving Joanie this season and if they kill her off...so help me...

At the Gem, Al is having his meeting with the SFC, Mr. Lee. He has Dan get out two bags of gold, trying to buy the dude off. The SFC stands in silence. Al tells Dan to open the bags, so that the SFC can verify that it's really gold. Surprising everyone, Lee says, in perfect English, "I know. I don't want it." Al gives him an eyebrow. "Anyways," he says, "good meetin' you." Dan shows Lee the door, and Al calls for Wu to come out from where he was hiding behind the bedroom door. Wu says, in his way, that it's obvious the SFC has "juice." Al: "If twenty don't tempt him to converse, you're fuckin'-A right. Maybe you and me should be workin' for him." Wu does the International Sign for Wu-Swedgin Love again, and Al nods, but gives him the brush, as it's been a "long fuckin' day." Dan puts the twenty thousand back in the safe while Al theorizes that Lee, being from San Fran, is connected to Hearst. "You think Hearst and the chink's connected?" Dan asks. "You think he was born," Al answers, "looking down his nose at twenty thousand?"

Back at the Chez Amie, Cy is reviewing the scene, and gagging. Pulling himself together, he tells Wolcott, "Chief fact is, no witnesses are extant." Wolcott worries that Joanie had seen him there. Cy quickly brushes over this, though, saying he needn't worry about her, since she hadn't seen him kill anybody. Cy says he'll take care of the situation, and that Mr. W should go back to the Grand Central, have a meal -- "if you can stand the food" -- and not to worry.

By Al Lowe

At the hardware store, Bullock is apologizing to Sol for his earlier behavior. He's sorry, he says, for bringing Trixie into it, and especially for calling her what he did. "That wasn't new information to me," Sol reminds him. Bullock self-deprecatingly tells Sol about the rest of the morning. "I searched that idiot Steve out to rebuke him and smack him in the face for...bein' who he was." He points at his own head to indicate what a genius maneuver that was, saying, "The sheriff."

Sol tells him about the meeting with Mrs. G, that she had never mentioned Bullock's name, but that she does want to start the bank and have Sol serve as chief officer. "You'd be a good one," Bullock says, before Sol drops the payload on him: "I got the impression that she might be with child." This time, due to the shock, the clench comes on slow.

Merrick is escorting Mary Stokes out of the hotel dining hall, complaining about the food. "Lot, before God, could make no case for that food," Merrick says. "Lot's wife may have been in that food," Miss Stokes jokes back. Kind of an obvious set-up, but okay. They laugh, heartily, like a couple of nerds in love, arriving at Merrick's office. He opens the door to find the place overturned. Someone has wrecked the joint and, uh...soiled it, to boot. Miss Stokes places her handkerchief over her face and steps back out, and Merrick looks the place over, very upset, as one naturally would be, having their place shat on and all.

Across camp at Hostetler's livery, there's something...something going ON in the stable. Hostetler is wakened by some amorous noises, and comes out to see Steve getting busy with...or, rather, on...a horse's...leg. I don't mind telling you, I watched this scene through a blanket. Hostetler gets his shovel and I am so hoping he's going to whang it over Steve's head, but instead, as Steve tells the horse to tell the sheriff "how that fucking felt," Hostetler sneaks up behind him and asks, "What else did you learn at that school that teached you that?" HA! Turnabout's fair play.

Outside, Merrick has indeed come to Cy about the wreck of his presses, and the scene is going down just as Cy predicted. "Do we blame unsavory elements?" Cy asks. Merrick says he does, and that he knows it's in retribution for his refusal to associate his paper with Jarry's dumb statement. "Maybe," Cy says, "if you'd done your part, calmed the fuckin' waters a little, instead of treeing the county commissioner, the hooples would have gone and gotten their loads on and been waiting for your edition." Somehow, Merrick doesn't pick up this clue, instead saying that obviously, he and Cy differ in opinion on the function of the press. Cy brings it home. "Ain't the lesson for you in this, Merrick," he posits, "that with fucked-up machinery, the press cannot function at all?"

By Al Lowe

Hello. Merrick gets it. "And is that the vandalism's purpose, sir?" Merrick asks, getting his mad on, "and of the DOG defecating in my office, with ruffians dispatched by YOU as the lesson's author?!" In the best line of the night, Cy shrugs a little, preparing to walk away, and says, "I doubt they had a dog with them." Merrick is both shocked and appalled.

Back at the livery, Hostetler has tied the suddenly-sober Steve to an anvil. The NG has arrived, and asks Hostetler what he's up to. He tells the NG that he caught Steve fucking a horse. Steve: "I did not fuck that horse." No, the NG says to Hostetler, ignoring Steve for a moment, "I'm asking you what you're doing." Hostetler says his plan is to go get a shoeing tool, and "hit this bastard" right between the eyes, and "drop him like a piece of beef." Steve interrupts that he never harmed Hostetler. "I guess he ain't talkin' to me," the NG says, thinking of his ruined shoulder. "You NEED to DIE, Steve," Hostetler tells the hoople, and I dream of putting THAT on a t-shirt. The NG does not want Hostetler killing anyone. "Hard as you worked, as much shit as you had to eat, the only way it makes sense for you to kill him," the NG says, "is if you sign everything you got across to me, first, and then I could see the logic." The NG gives Hostetler his trusty chalkboard, and Hostetler smarts that he's gonna kill Steve and then come back and kill the NG.

The NG takes another tack. He asks Steve if he believes that God can act through a n*gger. "God does not want you to kill," Steve tries, finding religion. "Do you believe," the NG continues, "that God would let me feel mercy toward you that TARRED me, and fucked his horse?" Steve: "I do. But...I did not fuck the horse!" He goes on to ask if Steve will "go hence in gratitude" if they let him leave alive. Steve says he would. The NG has Hostetler draw up a little contract on his chalkboard. "Write out: 'I fucked the sheriff's horse,' and we're gonna have him sign it." Hostetler starts writing it out, while Steve interjects again, insisting he didn't fuck the horse, he merely jerked off and came on his leg. Sigh. Isn't it romantic? Doobee doobee doo?

By Al Lowe

The NG asks if Steve'll sign off on that "slight exaggeration to keep from gettin' your fuckin' head smashed in?" Steve says yes. Sweetening the deal, the NG asks if he'd also "bless colored folks, and God, as Father to us all?" Steve, still tied to the anvil, says, "I would...and go hence in gratitude." Hee. Why did they make me love Steve?

Hostetler is satisfied with this arrangement, relieved that he doesn't have to kill somebody, and they make Steve sign the chalkboard. The NG tells him to go hence, and that if his gratitude errs, that he's to remember that they have his signature. Steve very solemnly swears that he'll go, and he'll remember. He leaves, and Hostetler and the NG drop their weapons, exhausted by the whole thing. The NG sits down to have a drink, and offers some to Hostetler, who says taking a drink is what made him drop off to sleep allowing Steve to get in, and was the cause of him getting beside himself and saying he was going to kill the dude. "I ain't took a drink in 17 years," he tells the NG. "Yeah," the smaller man answers, "well, you over that, now." Hostetler doesn't want any, though. The NG asks if "that tomboy," referring to Jane, had gotten him the news about how he bore Hostetler no ill will for allowing Steve's mob to take him. Hostetler says yes, and that he appreciated the message. Taking a swig, the NG declares them friends again, henceforth.

At Bullock's house, we finally get another glimpse of his wife and stepson as they share a quiet meal. I mean, it's really quiet, with Bullock no doubt reflecting heavily on the fruit of his loins residing in Mrs. G's womb. Mrs. Bullock asks him if it had been a difficult day. He squeaks out a no. William pipes up that they had met the new schoolteacher that day, and that she seemed nice. Mrs. Bullock agrees, saying she liked her very much, and is glad she's finally arrived. I'm curious as to who in the hell she's going to teach in Deadwood, but I suppose we're to assume there are at least a few more children around somewhere. Bullock is not really listening, and clenches out another one-word answer. Mrs. Bullock can see that he's distracted, and says no more.

By Al Lowe

Back in Al's office, he's flanked once again by Johnny and Dan as he tries to get his coat on after another exam by Doc. Al says he lacks his customary stamina, but Dan tells Doc this is bullshit, as "they've been comin' at Al in waves, and he stood 'em all the fuck off." Johnny overcompensates, saying Al would have "stopped Sherman shy of the sea." Al wonders if, without the use of his leg, they would have fired him from a "fuckin' cannon." Doc ignores all this, saying he finds Al to be in excellent fettle. "Relative to my former conditions?" Al says. "Relatively speaking, yes," Doc smiles. "All conditions are fucking relative."

Al says thanks and offers Doc a roll in the hay with one of his whores before he leaves. That reminds Doc of something. "I hope you ain't connected with them new Chinese prostitutes," he says. "I ain't," Al says, "but I did try to make friends with their pimp." Doc leaves, sighing, and Al tells Dan and Johnny that "we need to muscle up."

"Local?" Dan asks. "Don't know who's been bought," Al says, ruminating. Johnny steps up and asks Al to send him to Cheyenne for backup. Poor Johnny. Al tells Dan to go, instead, smacking Johnny on the arm, saying he needs to keep him close. Aw, Al. They help him stand to go out on the balcony. Al's still thinking of this muscle they need to find, and asks Dan about Crop Ear. "He ain't available," Dan tells him. "Yeah..." Johnny says, "didn't I hear lately, Dan, Crop Ear's been maraudin'...elsewheres?" Dan: "Yep."

They get to the balcony door all lined up like the Stooges, when Al stops. "Uh, let's not appear as fuckin' triplets, huh?" They nod, letting him stand on his own, and he lunges out onto the porch, telling them both to head back down to the bar.

Down in the thoroughfare, he sees Joanie leading her girls from the dress shop, under a tarp and into Charlie's wagon. She gets them all settled, telling one of them to put a hand out. All three stick out their hands, and she places the money she got earlier from the bartends in one of them. She tells them it's $1,400, to split it three ways, and, as Charlie pulls away, to "never come back."

From his vantage point above, Al has seen all. Joanie, shell-shocked, looks up to see him there, and he nods, surveying his kingdom once more.