:
Not long after the commotion, the sheriff and his gang arrested Rooster and the Gunslinger and declared the two were to be hung at high noon the next day. None of the hooting and hollering they did about self-defense made any difference. And as the moon was at its highest, the two men lay in their bunks. Rooster on the top bunk, the Gunslinger on the bottom. Mid conversation
:
So that was the fourth time I got shot. Boy, I'll tell ya, it wouldn't be the last
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Wow... does it hurt?
:
What? Getting shot?
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Mmm, yeah
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Nah, feels amazing! Kinda like getting a rub and tug from them Chinese gals, you know?
:
A... rub and tug?
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Hah, oh Jesus, kid. Yeah, it fuckin' hurt. What are you doing out here anyway?
:
Well...
:
Rooster figured since he was going to hang tomorrow, it wouldn't do any harm telling the Gunslinger everything. From the death of his mother in childbirth, to the death of his brother John at the hands of La Blanc's men, to the $400,000 in gold coins at the bottom of the Savannah coast
:
Four hundred... well fuck me. $400,000 sounds a hell of a lot better than me and my partner's take robbing this town's bank
:
Partner?
Explosions
:
A stick of dynamite blows the wall to hell and our boys to freedom
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What the hell? Get around back, give 'er a look!
:
God damn it, Pepe. I said no dynamite!
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Sheriff?! Guys, what the hell?!
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Sorry, boss! I saw no other option!
:
No other option, my ass! Where's Mirabella?
Horse whinnying
:
Right here, señor!
:
Howdy, sweetheart. I missed ya
Horse whinnying
:
Sorry sons of bitches -- who's got the keys?!
We better skedaddle!
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C'mon get the door open!
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Alright. Here we go!
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Would you hurry your ass up and get over here?
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Oye, who's the kid?
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Oh, him
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Y'all ain't just 'gon leave me here are you?
:
Now I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it. But it just wouldn't be right. Snagging all that gold without the kid who told me all about it. C'mon. Hop on now, quick!
Rooster grunting, mounting the horse. Horse whinnying
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Go. Go!
Sounds of horse being whipped and whinnying. The Gunslinger laughs
:
No seriously, stop fucking around there. The-the-there's gold?!
Sound of horses galloping away, gunshots
:
You sons of bitches are gonna hang!