Requiem For A Gleet

S02E04

Mr. and Mrs. Bullock settle in to married life, and by "settle in" I mean they, you know, have "pleasant intercourse," by which I do NOT mean conversation. Doc is in high stress contemplating the surgery he feels must be performed on Al, to remove the bladder stones that are most likely going to kill him should they remain where they are. No one, however, is more stressed than Dan. He's having to deal with all sorts of mess, including one of the bushwackers coming into town wanting to propose a robbery scheme to Al, and a very pissed-off Wu attempting to protest the new presence of the rival Tong gang just arrived from Yankton. One of the Yankton commissioners rolls into town, just in time to confirm everyone's worst fears that their gold claims are about to be overturned. He, Cy, and Wolcott set the wheels in motion to profit from the panic. Mrs. Garret, however, is not worried. Her confidence level is so high in all matters, she fires Sophia's tutor and offers to buy E.B. Farnum's hotel. For some reason yet to be revealed, Miss Isringhausen turns to Adams for comfort. Over at the Chez Amie, Wolcott's chosen girl, Carrie, has arrived. She is a snippy, bossy, bitchy thing. He seems to go for that in a big way. He doesn't kill her. Yet. And speaking of living to see another day: Al does. Praise the Lord, Doc doesn't have to perform the surgery. Al passes the stones and his anguish, finally, is relieved.

Morning dawns in Deadwood, and the Bullocks are just waking up. Well, Mr. Bullock is waking up; it looks like maybe Martha has been awake for a while. He sits up, groggy, saying he's misplaced his boots. His wife explains that she had moved his boots down by the kitchen door. "I was asleep," he says, uh, sleepily, "when you took 'em and did that." She says yes, and asks if he'd rather she had not done that. He says no, it's just that he hadn't intended to fall asleep before they could talk, "which -- what with how it's been -- we have not done in the peace of the evening, as I'd like, since your arrival."

They are sitting with their backs to each other, both keeping to their own sides of the bed. Martha says, and I quote, "I would enjoy to converse in the stillness, after the day, like that." Sweet, but a little stilted. Bullock says that tonight he'll have TWO cups of coffee so that he can stay awake. The conversation now takes a turn. It's been a bit tense up to this point, and we're about to learn why.

"In the morning," Martha says, "in the quiet before we each take up our work...is also a pleasant occasion for such intercourse."

Without turning, he tilts his head toward her, and quietly says, "Yes." She asks if he'd like to "start a discussion this morning." They're still not looking at each other. Bullock seems slightly clenched about it all -- not worried, exactly, but there's something there. Maybe it's about Mrs. Garret, but I gotta tell you, he's not saying no, or looking like he wants to. "I wouldn't," he answers slowly, "want to disturb the boy." Lowering her voice a register, she tells him, "William sleeps soundly," and I'm thinking to myself how awesome it is that we are about to see some hot Husband and Wife ACTION up in here, as she tells him to "see to the door." He does, indeed, get up and close the door, and DAMN YOU, MILCH, we cut away.

Al's condition has only worsened since we last saw him. He is shivering in pain, receiving a sponge-down from Trixie and Dolly. Dolly asks if her thumb treatment has brought Al to this condition. Trixie snaps that "first, the dead don't shiver." She goes on to point out that Dolly had just done what Al had asked her to do, and that "ain't it more likely what turned him worse was his underlying woe than a thumb up his ass attempting his fuckin' relief?" Dolly is duly chastised, and leaves, while Trixie returns to her ministrations to the very janked-up Al. He's shaking hard and looking into her face and it is killing me.

Over at Mrs. Garret's claim, business is in full swing. Ellsworth tops a hill and sees none other than Wolcott standing in the middle of the action, surveying the goings-on. Ellsworth gets serious and puts his hand on his gun. For once he forgoes politeness when he asks Wolcott, "What's your business?" Wolcott introduces himself in the midst of all this banging and clanging, and Ellsworth remains unimpressed. "Them as poke around Mrs. Garret's workings without a by-your-leave, ain't welcome, Mr. Wolcott, and you ought not to repeat your fuckin' mistake." Wolcott is nonplussed. "Well, that's an uncivil response to an innocent question."

Ellsworth is not apologizing. He asks Wolcott if he worked in the Comstock when he was beardless for Mr. George Hearst. Ellsworth recognizes Wolcott as Hearst's geologist. "You have the advantage of me, Mr. Ellsworth," Wolcott says, trying to smarm, but Ellsworth is still not buying it, or backing down. "That ain't a possibility, Wolcott," he spits, "no more than a mistake of yours could be innocent." Man, Ellsworth has got Mr. W's number, and he is mad as hell. "I do dimly recall an Ellsworth," Wolcott says, pretending that he is just now remembering that Ellsworth was superintendent of the consolidated Virginia operation, and was a hero who spent a week tirelessly digging to save three men from dying in a cave-in. Ellsworth doesn't "give a fuck" what he recalls. Wolcott brushes off the 46 men Ellsworth was unable to save -- corpses in a hole that should never have been dug -- and this ticks Ellsworth off good and proper. "You tell that cocksucker you work for," he spits, "the surrogate he sends oughtn't to be bloodied from the Comstock."

In Mrs. Garret's room, Sophia is going over her vocabulary words when Miss Isringhausen knocks at the door. She asks Mrs. G if she intends, after all, to dispense with her services. Mrs. G, impressively, kind of takes the high road here and acksrite, handling the situation with dignity. She does fire Miss Iz, but gives her six months severance and sincerely says she will help arrange for her trip back to Chicago. Mrs. G admits that she herself is ill-suited to work closely with Miss Iz "as women, in our positions, must do." When she finishes her speech, Miss Iz says, primly, that "as to those terms, Mrs. Garret, your behavior is very fair." Put off by what she perceives as a judgment, Mrs. G pours salt in the wound and tells her, "Miss Isringhausen, Cotton Mather would have found hard and joyless the standards you so resolutely apply to me and Sophia, and of course to yourself." Cold.

Miss Iz rises to receive her pay-off, declines to say goodbye to Sophia so as not to upset her, and takes her leave. It's too bad they won't be working together anymore. I like to see them put each other in their places.

At the Gem, E.B. has sidled up for his morning coffee. He seems in an excellent mood. Dan, not so much. E.B. tells Dan he hadn't slept well the night before, having heard screams coming from Al's room. "Happens up there many a fuckin' evenin'," Dan says, still nursing his sore arm. "Well, Al was fuckin' screamin', Dan," E.B. says. "And I'm wondering how he's feelin' this morning. And you dancing around the pole, ain't allaying my fucking anxieties." Dan smart-assedly asks if E.B. hears any screaming right now. E.B. smarts back that silence ain't an answer either way. That tears it! "Take no tone with me, E.B.," Dan yells, "or I'll slap you fuckin' silly." Dan goes on to say that Al's "on the mend, but not fuckin' receiving." E.B.'s all "I was just fuckin' askin'!" and Dan's like, "Well, there's your fuckin' answer!" God, it's funny. E.B. tells him to "convey my joy, and tell him numerous scores await."

As E.B. leaves and he and Dan wave each other off, both sneering, the ugliest mofo in all of Deadwood rolls into the bar. Seeeeeriously, now -- that's saying something. The dude has something bad going on with one of his ears, along with just the general ugliness. Dan recognizes him. "Mornin', CropEar," he says, by way of sarcastic greeting. "Or, uh, sorry, 'Eamon.'" Eamon tells Dan to take a good look, as it ain't growing back, and I want to tell him that he ought to thank his lucky stars they just call him CropEar, seeing as how it would probably be real easy to call him PigNose, or FugWood, or maybe CroMag. I don't know. Now I'm cracking myself up.

Anyway, Eamon calls up to Johnny who is descending the stairs, asking if Al's about. Johnny fumbles through a lie, saying Al's gone to Gayville. CropEar doesn't buy it. He's come, he says, to "seize Fortune by the forelock," and needs to lay the matter before Al. There's no love lost here, and Dan says he can either say his piece to him and Johnny, or get out. CropEar explains the job he wants to pull -- a straight-up robbery -- and says that he needs some reliable people to help him pull it off. Twenty-five percent of the heist will go to Al, he explains. Except...he ain't explaining it in a nice way. He's being clearly disrespectful of Al, as a matter of fact, and kind of rubbing Dan's nose in it. He's going on and on, and Dan finally tells him to "clean the wax out of your holes, because I SAID I would let him KNOW." Dan has no time for the one-eared today. He sends him off to return tomorrow afternoon.

When he leaves, Johnny breaks down. "Gettin' particular to where he was gone," he says, "I can see now, was a fuckin' mistake, which happened because I'm fuckin' upset." Have I mentioned how much I love Johnny? And Dan? These two actors...I mean, good Lord. They honestly could not be any better. Dan says, with menace in his voice, that "from this point forward, I'll handle that earless c*nt."

In the thoroughfare, a coach has arrived and we see, stepping down, a very well-dressed young woman. Wolcott appears out of nowhere, asking if he can help her with her bags. "No," she says, acidly," nor look at me or talk to me until I've took a bath." Surprisingly, he doesn't get angry, but merely points her in the right direction for the Chez Ami, ordering one of the coach drivers to follow with her bags. This must be Carrie, the girl Maddie had "on ice." I'm disappointed she's not freakier. She's super-cute, as a matter of fact, but oh so very clearly bitchy. She heads down the way as Wolcott goes to share a moment with E.B., who tries out some of his rumor-mongering, talking a little too loudly about the devastating rumors going around town. Wolcott, as he walks away, suggests, "Less volume, Mr. Farnum. More conviction." The guy is king of all that is creepy, but truly that advice can be applied so many situations. The singers on American Idol, for example, would do so well to heed such counsel. As a matter of fact, I would relish the opportunity to see Ryan Seacrest in a meeting with Mr. Wolcott. Think that cranky Simon guy is scary? Mr. W would eat him, slowly, starting with his frosted tips. Delicious.

Ah, but there's a second passenger on this latest coach, and as he is revealed, my husband screams out, "NED?! NED RYERSON?" Stephen Tobolowsky has arrived in town to play a commissioner from Yankton. E.B. slimes all over him, preparing to install him in the Grand Central, when the new guy asks to be directed to the Bella Union. E.B. tells him it's across the thoroughfare "not fifty yards as the crow flies, or a man is led by his prick." E.B. asks to whom he shall assign the room, and the man introduces himself as Hugo Jarry. E.B. returns the favor, presenting himself as the mayor, "though the position is largely ceremonial." This prompts Jarry to give his own job description: "Lawrence County commissioner. The position is real." Yeah, Jarry is no big fan of the unwashed E.B. He nods perfunctorily and cruises toward the Bella Union.

Except, oops, looks like he'll be detained by Adams, who just happens to be loitering nearby. These two know each other from Adams's former job as Magistrate Clagget's bag man, and it looks like they aren't exactly friends. "Delighted to see you here, Adams," Jarry says, meaning the opposite. "You could have known my whereabouts," Adams said, "if you had talked to me in Yankton where I sat outside your office for half a fuckin' day." Jarry says that it seemed to all the folks in Yankton that after the disappearance of Clagget, Adams "chose different companions." Adams lies that the last he saw Clagget, he had ridden into town with the cavalry, and had been assumed to have left with them, as well. Now, we know Adams is lying -- he killed Clagget himself in Al's office with particularly brutal dispatch -- and Jarry knows he's lying, because he snarks out that yes, perhaps Clagget was just "snatched up" by savages somehow, out of the midst of the troops, "such moonlight treachery being their stealthy hallmark." Good one, Jarry.

Adams suggests that maybe Clagget had taken a bribe from someone and then not held up his end of the bargain, getting his "just desserts." Way to lay it on the table, Adams. A bit obvious, though, since that's exactly what happened. Jarry says it's of no personal interest to him, or anyone in Yankton, any more than Adams's new companions are of interest. Adams finally cuts to the chase: "If you're trying to freeze out Swearengen, before the governor makes his play, you are bettin' the wrong way." Jarry: "Someone certainly is." Adams's gives him an "anyways" and says he'll tell Al Jarry's in town. Jarry says he'll be too busy to pay his respects, himself, and then gets real pissy with Adams, asking, "I wonder if you'll let me pass?" Adams is all too glad to do so, with a look on his face like "I'll enjoy killing you, later."

At the Bella Union, Cy is bilking an old miner named Marvin out of his claim. The guy has obviously heard the rumors going through town and is trying to sell out. Cy busts his balls a little, saying he hopes Marvin isn't privy to some secret information, or anything. Marvin says it's the altitude that's getting to him. Powers Boothe is particularly brilliant in this scene. This whole scam is going perfectly, just as Cy planned it, and he is having a bit of a hard time keeping the glee from bursting forth. He calls Stapleton over to pay Marvin's claim, and when the money is laid out in front of Cy, he tells Stapleton with jocularity that only comes from overconfidence, "Jesus Christ, don't pay it to me! Marvin here will shoot us both."

Stapleton produces the bill of sale for them to sign, and Cy asks Marvin if he's lettered. "I'm up to making my X, sir," Marvin answers. Cy tells Stapleton to sign as a witness, and as we cut away, Marvin warns him not to look "over my fuckin' shoulder while I'm signin' my fuckin' X!"

At the Chez Ami, Maddie and Joanie are having a little tiff. "Don't ever say that to me again," Maddie says, "that you 'surprised yourself.'" Joanie: "It's what happened." Maddie says she doesn't want to hear it (the incident between Joanie and Wolcott) spoken of, as it darkens her thoughts as to who she's partnered with. "They get led by their dicks," Maddie says. "Our c*nts lead us, we lose our edge." Joanie says that wasn't what was going on, and Maddie wonders if it was something worse -- was Joanie angry with Wolcott? And did she think maybe she'd shoot him to get even on behalf of all the whores and "little people" trodden under foot by George Hearst and the rest of the rich and powerful people of the world? Maddie is mad that Joanie even went into the room. "Nobody gets even," she Borgs, "we get dead." Maddie intends, she says, to have her retirement years comfortably paid off by Wolcott, and doesn't want Joanie ruining the profitable arrangement she's made with Wolcott for Carrie. Straight out of a horror movie, Joanie predicts that "something terrible is going to happen here." Maddie turns her back on the conversation, saying Joanie doesn't even know the girl Wolcott wants to harm and to "stay the fuck out of it."

As if on cue, Carrie bursts through the door and, by way of greeting, announces that "this whole place? Smells like shhhit."

In the kitchen of the Grand Central, E.B. is using Richardson as a sounding board for his frustrations. He tells Richardson that he is merely a realist. "We are mortals," he says. "One hopes for the best. One perseveres. One reevaluates constantly. One is an asshole if one doesn't!" E.B. is deeply worried that his association with Wolcott is a betrayal of Al, and yet he's trying to talk himself out of that notion. "Loyalty expanded," he says, "is not loyalty betrayed." Richardson, for his part, just goes on chopping vegetables while E.B. laments his own frailty in this situation -- he's equally greedy for Wolcott's money and afraid of Al's wrath. He can't get to Al because of his illness, so he's having to make his own decisions here, and fears the consequences of making the wrong one. "I feel exposed," he says to the unhearing Richardson. "I don't like being weak, and I know that I am. I yearn to rely on a stronger will." William Sanderson carries such a load in his role as E.B. It's the most unforgivable part in the show, and he absolutely nails it right here. He goes on that he is fearful of what he is capable of in the absence of leadership, and notices for the first time that Richardson doesn't seem to be affected by his outpouring, or even to be listening. He switches back immediately to the classic tactic of the middle manager: when all around is strife and uncertainty, stomp upon the neck of the man below you. E.B. berates Richardson for his lack of even a modicum of self-awareness, calling him a "vile fucking lump," and ordering him to bury some offal in the shepherd's pie.

At the Gem, Dan is behind the bar, looking tired, when his nemesis, Adams, walks in. He doesn't look happy to see him, and is snappy with Adams when he asks to see Al. "Is there any fucking chance you and me don't end up in blood?" Adams asks, rolling his eyes. Dan smarts back, asking if there's any chance Adams will realize that there may be other factors in his attitude right now, "besides the fact that I find you to be a pain in the balls, personally." Adams sighs and asks Dan to inform Al that Commissioner Jarry is in town from Yankton and "intends to fuck Al up the ass." Dan, smirking: "Said he to you while doing the same?" Aw, come on, Dan.

Adams is so sick of it, but continues to keep the peace. "It is important that he hear that," he says, steadily. "You do him disservice not to tell." Dan makes a face like "oh, FINE," and lowers his voice to nearly a whisper. "Listen, Adams," he says. "Al is fucked up bad. Maybe dying." Adams is upset to hear this news. Dan explains that "them stones have plumb done blocked off his piss passage." Lord, the brilliance. This is my favorite scene of this episode. Adams looks worried, and lets out a slow "fuck…okay, all right." But Dan's on a roll: "It's all backed up in him...shit, he's got piss in his lungs!"

They continue this conversation in a manner that is downright friendly. Dan explains what a state Al's in. Adams apologizes for breaking Dan's balls, and Dan promises to pass on the news of the Yankton guy whenever he feels like Al can understand him. As Adams leaves, Dan asks, jovially: "Hey, how's your little buddy? The one I put the beatin' on?" Heeeeee. Adams says Hawkeye will live, and Dan laughs. It would be nice if these two became friends, but I have my doubts about what's to come. Dan throws a rag at Johnny, who is asleep sitting up in a chair, and Johnny, startled awake, slurs out of his dreams, "It's somethin' anyway!"

At the Grand Central, Mrs. G is downstairs waiting as Ellsworth comes in to meet her. She's worried, noting an "amount of confusion" in the camp about these rumors that ownership of the claims will be overturned. Ellsworth tries to assuage her fears, saying, "Panic's easier on the back than the short-handed shovel." Good one, Ellsworth. She doesn't seem calmed, though, so he takes a knee, and has another shot at it. "The creator, in his infinite wisdom," he tells her, "salted his works so that, where gold was, there also you'd find rumor. Though...he decreed just as firm that the opposite wouldn't always hold."

Mrs. Garret tells him it's not necessary to comfort her at the expense of the truth, and he tells her why he's late -- because he had been shooing Wolcott off her property. Wolcott, via Hearst, wouldn't waste his time on a camp if he didn't think he could profit from it. "Nor," Ellsworth says, "[would he be] the sordid type who would shrink from a lie, or more than one, to advance his purpose." She's catching on. Ellsworth says that he also is hearing the hoopleheads rumble about selling their claims to get ahead of the game -- just like Wolcott wants them to. "Myself, ma'am," he finishes, "I'd be bettin' that the levy'll hold." Mrs. Garret smiles. She loves Ellsworth, and so do I.

Back at Chez Bullock, Martha is serving up breakfast to William, who asks if she had asked Bullock for him about planting a garden. Bullock comes into the kitchen looking dapper and for all the world like a man who has just had morning sex, and Mrs. Bullock offers him breakfast, calling him for the first time by his given name. "Oatmeal...Seth?" He answers in kind: "Please...Martha." Oooo, I love it so much. The tension! The hotness!

William asks Bullock directly about this garden he wants to plant, saying he would have already started it, but lacks the tools. Bullock gives him permission to go down to the hardware store to get supplies, and as William happily gets up to leave, asks him if he remembers his way to the store. Uh, yeah, I sure hope he does, Uncle Daddy. Why would he need directions in a one-street town?!

From the upper landing at the Grand Central, Mrs. Garret looks down on E.B., bent over his books, with the look of a lioness. Descending in her gorgeous green dress, she stops at the desk and gives him the most superior look imaginable. He follows her to a bench, and makes the great mistake of trying to play his rumor game on her. She feigns incomprehension while he slimes on and on, attempting to rile her into a panic about the state of the gold claims. It's a nice little cat-and-mouse scene, played beautifully by Molly Parker as Mrs. G -- she demurs, she turns away, and uses her wiles to upend E.B. completely. He thinks he's leading her down the path when he says if it was up to him, he'd have his hotel lifted out of harm's way, directly to Denver, as she had her gold. "Because the camp's at peril?" she asks, all innocence. Oh, yes, he assures her, the camp is at peril. She brings down the hammer. "Perhaps you should sell..." E.B. still thinks he's about to make a score, and continues to butter her: "Mrs. Garret, had I your intuition, would I not have done!" And on this, Mrs. Garret leans toward him in her snake-green dress and, like the serpent, says, "I'll buy it."

HA! E.B. wasn't expecting this. He starts babbling. "Aren't you wonderful and kind and intuitive and generous," he says, going on to say that no, he couldn't impose such a thing on her. She interrupts by spitting into her hand, extending it, and telling him to name his price. Whoa. E.B. is out of sorts. "Now you unsettle and trifle with me, and make me nervous...and uncertain." He stands, bumping his head. She tells him again to name his price. "How do you males put it? 'Shit or get off the chamber pot?'" E.B.: "Oh, Mrs. Garret...shit, indeed...oh, dear..." He stands again, a bundle of nerves, as she brings it home. "Unless, Mr. Farnum...you're lying about the camp's peril..." E.B. stutters. "But," she says, twisting him, "why would you do that?" Again, she tells him to make a price as he babbles and looks desperately around. Insulting him again, she leaves him to fall back on the bench, where he calls her a "miserable, haughty c*nt...putting me beyond my depth."

Back in Al's rooms, the time has come for serious medical intervention. Doc -- leaning over Al, who is laid out on the bed, facing Dan -- announces, "We've come to a crisis, Al, and I have to say my piece." He explains the two surgical options for the bladder stones. The "high method" involves cutting above the penis to excise the stones through the bladder. The other method, ahem, goes in "from below." Johnny, gulping, asks, "Below what, Doc?" His balls, Doc says. Johnny, trying to deal with it, asks, "So...the 'low' entails...cuttin' through his 't'ain't?"

Here, I pause the Tivo to laugh so long and hard, I begin to worry myself. 'T'AIN'T! I swear to God, that's one I never thought I'd hear on television. I want to marry Johnny, sometimes.

Doc says since he's seen the high method performed, if it comes down to it, that's the one he'd prefer. Dan, facing Al, says that Al's voted for the high method. Doc asks how he's indicated that to Dan, and Dan answers that Al gave a hard blink for the high method, and a scowl for the low. Al ain't doin' none of the kind, by the way -- he's pretty much just lying there, shaking.

Doc: "With a knife in expert hands, two men in ten survive the procedure we contemplate...but at what point without intervention would your condition so worsen as to put you beyond recovery..." Doc is in anguish, as is everybody in the room -- Dan says again that Al wants the upper. He is near tears, convincing Doc to perform the high method on Al's stones. He tells Doc, forcefully, "I guess you'd better go make ready," and Doc leaves, asking Johnny to come help him with the stove. Dan goes out on the balcony to shed a few tears, as Al is left in his delirium of pain.

At the Bella Union, Wolcott and Cy are meeting with the Yankton dude, Jarry. He's talking about the titles on the claims -- explaining that because of the lack of controlling principle, titles will be overturned and reinstated on a "case-by-case basis. New title will be awarded at set prices, via lottery, to those submitting verified offers." The three men discuss their dark scheme: they plan to let word of the commissioner's presence continue to circulate, hoping to "cleanse" the market, by panicking everyone into selling out before this lottery thing is even necessary. Cy suggests that while they wait on the miners to get riled up, Jarry use that time to "put some stink on [his] Johnson."

Trixie enters the hardware store, to find Sol taking inventory. She says she's come to do a lesson today, to learn how to do accounts. Sol says all right, and she starts to break down about Al. "Maybe he'll fuckin' die," she says, clearly afraid that he might. She continues to spiral about it, until Sol takes her into his arms, saying, "Another time." They're sweet, standing there, while he comforts her. Bullock sees all through the window, and when Trixie notices him watching, she pulls away from Sol and leaves.

Bullock comes in, asking Sol if he needs to leave for a bit. He tells Bullock how he heard Al screaming out in the night, over and over. Bullock pauses before thanking Sol for outfitting William with his garden tools. "He's planning to take some prizes, come harvest fair," Sol says. "He mentioned corn and squash, both." Bullock smiles a little, and Sol changes the subject to some news he's received from Denver concerning the proposal they made to start a bank in Deadwood. Apparently, they'd need to find fifteen percent of the capital they're asking for in the loan, which is a lot of money. "Or," Sol says, "they'd credit Mrs. Garret's accounts as collateral." Clenching, Bullock says, "We're not doing that." Sol answers that he doesn't advocate it, he's just informing Bullock of the suggestion made by Denver. Sol jokes that he supposes they'll have to "dip in to my own kit, then. Even so, it's back to cutting my own hair." Cute. Bullock smiles, and says he'll take the idea around looking for potential investors. Sol suggests they hit Al up for it, and Bullock says he meant "fucking reputable people." Sol: "If money had to be cleaned before it was recirculated, we'd still be living in fucking caves!" Bullock: "Your old man?" Sol: "Me."

In Cy's office, Wolcott is accompanied by one of the newly-arrived Tong guys from San Francisco, Mr. Lee. He tells Cy that Mr. Lee will provide him with the opium he needs for resale, plus all the "celestial" whores he can use. They work out the arrangements. Cy is super-creepy when he asks Lee how many Chinese whores he can bring. Lee repeats "how many?" Cy: "That sounds like a man with an inexhaustible supply...I'll take a dozen and I don't want 'em 'fucked out.'" God. Cy goes on to make further disparaging remarks about Mr. Lee and his heritage, and tells Wolcott he'll decline to question "the apparent one-sidedness" of their arrangement. Wolcott reminds him that the arrangement is not only between Cy and Mr. Lee. "Yes," Cy answers, "and in ways I don't understand, it must benefit you and...the man whose name I must never say...to have Mr. Lee in camp...but what a blessing for me, finally to reach a point in life where I don't feel I have to know." Heeeee. The man whose name he must never say. George Hearst = Lord Voldemort?

At the Gem, Trixie is having a nervous cigarette while Dan tells his life story from the bar. They are both afraid Al's about to die. Dan says he was pretty worthless before he met Al. "A creature walkin' around on hind legs, just like CropEar and half a dozen bushwackers out in the forest." Trixie is, well, not sympathetic. "Well, bang the drum and play the pipes," she snaps. "And I'll rend our fuckin' garments." Dan: "I was just sayin'." Trixie: "I ain't hearing confessions this afternoon." They're quiet for a second, until Trixie says, "Say you'll burn it down with me, Dan." He asks what she means. "This fuckin' place," she answers, "before lettin' Tolliver take it over." Dan: "Done."

Jewel comes out of Al's room and says Al's asking for Trixie. She stands to go up, half-heartedly muttering to Dan not to die with his secret. Dan, a mass of emotion, covers it, yelling at Jewel to clean room number three: "Dolly said she bled."

Upstairs, Doc is trying to get himself under control. He is over the stove, attempting to sterilize his instruments in the boiling water. Except...he can't keep his hand from shaking, badly. Johnny sees this and not-so-casually says, "I may get me a whiskey, Doc...you want a whiskey?" Doc does not appreciate this offer. "No, I do not want a fucking whiskey." Instead of letting it go, because he is so wonderfully dumb, Johnny suggests Doc could maybe use one to "steady the hand." Doc gets mad. "How dare you?" he asks. "You shut. Your fuckin'. Mouth." Johnny says he didn't mean anything by it, and Doc says that whiskey does not steady the hand, anyway, "it just dulls the worry over the hand's unsteadiness." Saying this, he unsteadily extracts a knife from the water pot, his shaking hand causing him to drop it to the floor. "Jesus Christ," he says in frustration. "Jesus CHRIST, I do not need to kill another man."

Johnny, still trying to be helpful, picks up the knife, burning himself. Without even turning around, Doc tells him, "Top left corner of my fucking bag." Doc can't stop caring for people, even when his concentration is required elsewhere. He directs Johnny to some balm for the burn, and steels himself to steadily pick up the knife, again placing it back in the water. You know, whenever Dourif is on screen, I feel so inadequate to the task of trying to describe what he's doing. He's just so freaking amazing. Honestly, the supporting cast of this show is just above and beyond anything happening anywhere else.

Downstairs, Mr. Wu comes in the back door, yelling for Dan. Dan tells him to go away. He won't. He wants to see "Swedgin!" and won't take "no" for an answer, probably because he...doesn't understand the answer. Dan is the classic American, just talking LOUDER, to try and make Wu understand. "No, Wu! He's fucked up," Dan says. "Now, Al can't talk to you right now, and I can't understand you, so just go the fuck back to Chink Alley!" Wu ain't having it. He starts waving around, trying to pantomime. Dan gets frustrated, so Wu slows down. They play the best game of charades I have ever seen. (Wait, no. The best game of charades ever was played at Pamie's house with Djb a few nights before Pamie's wedding, when Pamie tried to act out the clue "Sting." Y'all have never seen such gyrations IN your LIFE. She made a claw with one hand, then dragged the fingers of her other hand down her arm, and air-guitared for a minute before pelvic-thrusting her way through the rest of the clue. Finally, djb had to ask "what the hell?" and she explained that she was giving great hints: "I was making my hand a badge! You know, like The Police! And then I was playing bass! And then I was having tantric sex for eight hours! STING!")

Wu points to his own face, saying "cocksucker!" indicating that he is trying to describe an evil Chinese guy. Dan isn't getting it, and it's making him tired. Wu tries to show how the cocksucker in question is tall. "It's wasted on me, Wu," Dan says. "I am not as smart as Al." Wu keeps going. He points to himself: "Cocksucker!" He holds his arms up in the air: "San Francisco. Cocksucker." I am dying.

Doc and Johnny pass Dan making their way upstairs, and Dan turns to get rid of Wu. "You want me to tell Al, that there's a cocksucker who looks like you and he's from San Francisco and he's got your dander up. I'll tell him." Climbing the stairs, Johnny asks, "Tell him what?" Dan: "God only knows."

In his bedroom, Adams is reclining, lost in thought, when he hears a knock on the door. It is none other than Miss Isringhausen, come to call. Now, I like this, because I like both these characters, but I have no idea how they would know each other. I can't have missed their meeting before. I suppose we are to assume they've met and are on friendly terms. She does say that she can't imagine what he must be thinking, seeing her there, but he invites her in and pulls out a chair for her to sit. "I can offer you whiskey, or, uh, water that I just washed my face in," Adams says, ever the gentleman. Miss Iz, surprisingly, says she'll have whiskey. As he pours, she tells Adams that she's "just been discharged. Sacked." Adams hands her the drink, saying, "Well, I hope you punched her in the nose."

Miss Iz is kind of on the edge. "This is a day of firsts," she says. "Dismissal from employment. Unchaperoned presence in a man's room..." Adams says he's sorry for her news, but if this is her first taste of liquor, he's sorry for the hand she's been playing her whole life.

Y'all, I need to make another aside here to announce that, well, Adams...is kind of hot. And by kind of, I mean, very. I celebrate Deadwood's single-handed responsibility for bringing back beards and mustaches and the manliest of manly men to the small screen. There is no metrosexuality going on in Deadwood. Queer Eye would not even be able to drive their SUV down the thoroughfare before they gave up and went home.

Anyway, Miss Iz downs the glass of whiskey like an old pro. This unnerves Adams, who asks if she minds if he drinks straight from the bottle. She breaks down in tears, putting her head in her hands, and Adams uncomfortably shifts around saying "oh, boy," not knowing how to react. He asks if she wants him to leave the room. "It's your room!" she sobs. "Well," he says, "would you feel better if I shot myself?" She asks why he would say that. "I apologize," he says, nervously, "it was just a stupid way of trying to be funny." Miss Iz says, as it happens, that she fears that she may be killed. Adams is all concern now. She says she can't explain, but that Mrs. Garret is threatening her life. Adams looks surprised to hear this, as do I. She says she can assure him that she would not be the first person Mrs. G has killed. The plot thickens with pretty Miss Isringhausen, no? Good one, Deadwood. I never saw it coming.

I ALSO never saw the scene coming, and LORD HAVE MERCY, as absolutely fantastic as it was, I hope to never witness such a thing again. Back in Al's rooms, his little gang is preparing him and themselves for the nightmare of surgery that is about to begin. Dan is trying to tie a wheezing, dying Al to the bed. "Al, I have to secure you for surgery!" The wheezing picks up in earnest, and Doc asks what's the matter. Dan pauses. "He's afraid." They all look at Al, asking him to confirm this. Dan suddenly announces that Al's got a fear of the knife and wants to pass the stones naturally. Doc looks at Dan and understands. They ALL have a fear of the knife. Al wheezes in the silence as the three hover over him. Trixie leans forward to ask him again if he's afraid and realizes, "Oh, God! I'm on his fuckin' nuts!" Something snaps in Doc and he has an idea. "God-DAMN. Smelling salts is what we're gonna administer! Do you hear me, Al?" Doc whips out the smelling salts and jams them against Al's nose. His eyes bulge open and the wheezing picks up big time. Doc makes Johnny, Dan, and Trixie pull Al off the bed, up on his feet.

"Take his prick out," Doc tells Trixie. We see blood and urine hit the floor. They are all yelling, "There you go, Al!" as Johnny holds the salts to his nose, and Al pushes hard. "You'd do a horse proud with the strength of that fuckin' stream!" Trixie yells. Doc is in a frenzy, and yells for them to lay him back down. He picks up his stick instrument, declaring that he's going to insert it again and that they are going to clear the stones, and "we are NOT going to cut you." He has Trixie push Al's knee to his chest, tells Dan to hold him down, and tells Johnny to go on out on the porch. This time, though, Johnny is IN it: "I'm in charge of the salts!"

So, there they are. Al is moaning and wheezing strong as Doc inserts the stick and hears the click of the gleet. He tells Trixie to "milk his prick, from top to bottom" to bring the stones down. There is a lot of screaming, and by God, it works. The stones are passed, HALLELUJAH! I feel like I just went through it, myself. No one in the room is more relieved than Doc. "God bless you, Al," he says, exhausted. "Thank you for saving me." Poor ol' Doc, y'all.

The camera pulls up into the ceiling, and we see the four of them -- Doc, Trixie, Johnny, and Dan, collapsed on the bed around Al, all their arms intertwined with his. Lying there, they look like a religious painting. It's beautiful.

At the Chez Ami, the ladies are dressed in their finery. Wolcott is there among them, their only client of the evening. He has four of the girls standing in a corner of the room, their backs facing the seated Joanie, Maddie, Carrie, and Wolcott. He asks the girls if they're comfortable. "They're fine," Maddie answers, saying that since he's paid them to stand in that position, they'll stay there. "They've been in more awkward positions before." Mr. W is giving a speech about the ancient temple of Aphrodite and how all women in that time and culture were obligated to spend time as prostitutes to please the goddess and bring good weather. He's being a dick.

Carrie has heard enough and asks, "Are you gonna fuck me tonight, Francis?" Wolcott: "I bore Carrie." He gets up and walks over to the standing girls, catching one of them -- Doris -- peeking. "I asked you not to look," he says, shoving her down on the floor.

This sets off Maddie, who suggests he take Carrie and "do what you're gonna do." He asks if he's on a schedule, and Joanie says Maddie "only meant our educations can wait." Wolcott looks at Joanie, saying he had quite enjoyed their talk from a few nights ago. "Do you wanna fuck her?" Carrie asks, incredulous. He says no, and that if he did, he'd say so. "The atmosphere of the room turns against me," he notes, "growing collective impatience where should be a haven of indulgence." Slamming his hand down, he asks, "Won't you indulge me?" Joanie, frightened: "We're trying, Mr. W. But you are behaving badly."

Wolcott is not happy with her backchat. He had intended, he says, to regale her with mythical tales: "Gods fornicating with mortals...the endless incest...fathers upon daughters, upon sisters..." Joanie can stand to hear no more, gets up, and walks away. Maddie, too, is at the end of her patience and tells Mr. W to take Carrie in, or get out. Excusing himself and Carrie, he tells Maddie to be generous with Joanie: "I think I've upset her."

At the Bella Union, doing what is described by my closed captioning as "jowly blubbering," Commissioner Jarry is being bathed by a whore. He blows some soap bubbles on her chest. She asks what he was aiming at, and he embarrassingly says, "Your tittieeeeeeeeeeeees!" I roll my eyes out of my skull as Cy walks in, asking Jarry if he'll give an interview to the newspaper editor. Jarry: "I think not, until my bath is finished." Cy, to the whore: "Uh huh. And I think a finish would involve you blowing some of them bubbles underwater, honey." She goes to it, and even Cy is disgusted.

Back at the Gem, Crop Ear has returned, asking again to see Al. Dan is far more relaxed now, and says that if he'll agree to a few rules, he'll let him up. Crop Ear hatefully asks, "Don't it feel goooood to play at boss, Daaaaaaan?" Ugh. I can't wait for this guy to die. Dan leads him upstairs, laying out how he's to present the job to Al. The upshot is that he's to put it before Al as simply as possible, and let him indicate a yes or no however he chooses. "Al has had a tough fuckin' day." Crop Ear's got to push his luck, though, because he's an idiot, yelling at Dan that he's a big man: "It's you that's the great one!" Dan: "Don't bust my fuckin' balls." Crop Ear: "Don't call me Crop Ear, you gutless son of a bitch." Hey!

Resolute, Dan tells him, "Eamon, we live life however we choose." But the asshole insults Dan further, saying he chooses life as a c*nt, standing behind a bar. Siiiiiiiigh...please kill him, Dan. Praise be, he does. Crop Ear, still shooting his mouth off, heads upstairs, and Dan steps up behind him and slits his throat. Look, Dan is stressed OUT, okay? What part of that did this one-eared dirtbag not GET? He was just trying to do the dude a favor, explaining how to handle Al on his sickbed. But no, the guy has to ruin it. Dan's work is never done! He goes back downstairs and tells Johnny, "Crop Ear's a-dyin' up 'ere. Take him over to the Chinaman's and throw him away." Johnny doesn't even blink. "Sure, Dan. Sure. I'll go get the sled." Dan finally snaps, announcing to everyone, "I have had a tough fuckin' day!"

In Carrie's room, she is futzing around her mirror as Wolcott observes. He asks if she was really seeing a relative on her way to Deadwood, "or did the madam withhold you to frustrate me?" Carrie says Maddie doesn't tell her why she does things, but that no, she wasn't seeing a relative. Wolcott asks if she was seeing anyone else. "A wild Indian," Carrie snarks. "I fucked him, and I fucked his horse." Brushing this aside, Wolcott says he can see that Carrie hates it in Deadwood, but that he does not. "The rocks tell me stories," he says. "And now I have you." Carrie wishes she was in New York. She says she won't stay for any amount. Wow, she's a bitch. I love her. She takes her stockings off, and sits on his lap -- his pants are still buttoned -- saying he mustn't hit her like he does the others. He agrees to these terms, saying she has never given him cause to hit her. She tells him she will run away to the Indians. "You will change the course of history," he answers, "and be the first of the women chiefs." He doesn't say anything further, because his orgasm arrives quickly -- like in 12 seconds. "I'm too quick," he says. Carrie: "You can't be too quick for me." She stands, saying he might try it sometime with his prick outside his pants. Skipping that subject, he remarks, "I sense [Joanie] has fucked a relative..." Carrie: "It's a big club." Hmm.

Deadwood is growing quiet, finally, and the quietest spot in town, at last, is Al's room. There he lies, clear of pain for the first time in days, finally still after a long struggle. It's been a hard few days, and we leave him as he lets out one heavy sigh.