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Looks like Mrs. Garret is knocked up. She turns to Trixie and Doc for help. Looks also like Miss Isringhausen is more than she first appeared. She turns to Adams for some hot bag man lovin' after implying further that Mrs. G is a menace to society, having had more than one person killed. The camp gets into turmoil over an ambiguous statement posted about the claim titles and whether or not they will be overturned. Hell breaks loose and it goes against Commissioner Jarry. Bullock has to step in -- on a suggestion from the recovering Al -- to save the guy's life. He also ends up saving the life of "The N*gger General" recently returned to town after some time away. This is good, as Jane and the General had made friends earlier in the day. Al is pushing himself to get well in time to keep his controlling hand on the camp. He and Bullock share a whiskey, and prepare for a fight for the future of Deadwood. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Good morning, Deadwood! Mrs. Garret is barfing. Hollywood's old jewel foretelling of pregnancy is trotted out, again. She's pretty miserable, but we don't have time to think about it, because over at the Gem, Al is waking up.Doc, Johnny, and Dan have been holding a vigil, and as Al comes around, they smile over him like a bunch of old church women with a newborn baby. He rolls one very gross-looking eye over to Dan, the smiliest of the bunch, and asks, "Did you fuck me while I was out?" Dan is incredulous! "Hell, no!" Well, Al tells him, "Quit looking at me like that."
Johnny laughs and says that, except for talking "a little cockeyed," Al's back to his old self. Doc counsels that Al's recovery will be uneven, parts of his body healing at different rates. Johnny babytalks Al, telling him to talk as cockeyed as he wants, as long as he wants, until he is once again miserable and mean. Al has the presence of mind to ask just how cockeyed he looks, and Doc tells him "appropriately cockeyed," considering the injuries he has recently sustained and all the bladder stone drama.
Al asks if Bullock looks worse than he does, and Doc looks on the bright side, saying that naming his adversary shows that Al's memory is in good shape. Dan jumps in and talks overly loud to Al, cheerily telling him he's going to have to get himself together ASAP in order to deal with all the "developments that need interpretatin' on every front." He's just trying to make Al feel useful, but Doc warns them all that Al is out of commission for the time being. Dan rattles on, unabated, reporting that "Wu's got a big tall celestial hauntin' him. He's invisible!" Doc gets mad and tells him to shut the fuck up, that Al needs to rest. Dan looks nervous, and when Al asks what else is new, goes overboard the other way along with Johnny, saying that there's nothing much going on: "Not a goddamn thing that can't wait until you get well, boss."
Al starts to say something: "There is a bell, behind the bar..." Johnny interrupts him, nodding condescendingly, as if he understands, saying, "Absolutely." Al says that he KNOWS there's a bell behind the bar: "I'm telling you to bring it here." Oh. Johnny gets it and goes to get the bell. Doc gives Dan a look, telling him to leave, as well, and Dan goes out: "Oh, uh, I best help. If there's anybody that can fuck up the gatherin' of a bell, it's Johnny."
As he leaves, Doc asks Al if he wants some water. "Yeah," Al says, "fuckin' water." Doc pours the water and leaves it on the table, an arm's length away from Al. His patient stares at him with his messed-up eyes and tells him not to be a fuckin' jerk. As Doc helps him drink a sip of water, he explains that Al's right eye is filled with blood. He asks him if he can use his right arm at all. "Put your nose between my fuckin' fingers," Al says. "You'll find how much I can use my fuckin' arm." Doc takes this as a good sign -- Al's curmudgeonliness proves he's on the mend. Al: "Don't bullshit me." Doc: "I won't." Doc says Al might have had small stroke, possibly caused from the straining trying to pass the bladder stones. Al: "Keep bullshittin' them." Doc: "I will." Al says if word gets out about this stroke, he'll slit Doc's fucking throat: "I wield a blade good with my left." He means it in a nice way, you know.
Doc assures him it won't get out. Al changes the subject. "If I need it," he says, "you will fuckin' kill me." Doc tells him to shut up. Al tells him that if Doc finds him no better, he'll wish Al was worse, and repeats that he wields the blade good with his left hand. Doc tells him not to put a clock on his recovery.