INT - PRESCOTT SALOON - NIGHT
A handsomely appointed saloon. At a corner table, the pot is so rich 2 players
have folded leaving ED BAILEY, a big, sullen, tough-looking gambler, facing
gaunt, elegant DOC HOLLIDAY. Full of southern refinement and languid, almost
feline grace. Doc has such unerring style and aplomb that he makes his constant
tubercular coughing sound as if he's merely clearing his throat. Bailey leans
forward, seething with impatience:
I said that's 500 to you,
Holliday. In or out?
500? Sly boots, must be a peach
of a hand.
KATE HORONY, Doc's voluptuous Hungarian consort enters, refilling his engraved
silver stirrup cup. She has a faint accent:
Bless you, darling
(puts arm around her)
Darling! Are you mad? You're not
Wearing a bustle. How lewd!
Oh, for Christ's sake!
Ed Bailey, you look like you're
Just ready to burst. Well call me
A fool but I guess I'll just have
To call. Cover your ears, darling.
Doc covers the bet and shows his hand. Bailey pounds the table.
God damn son of a...
Isn't that a daisy?
Just pick up your money and go.
Sick of listening to you simper.
Now Ed, are we cross?
Doc leans forward, revealing an ivory gun-butt under his coat.
Skinny lunger, your guns don't
Impress me. Wasn't for those guns
You'd be nothin'.
Why Ed, what an ugly thing to
Say! Does this mean you're not my
Friend anymore? You know, Ed, if
I thought you weren't my friend I
Don't think I could bear it.
Now a Cheshire cat smile we will soon come to know very well steals over Doc's
face as he takes out his nickel-plated .38 Colt Lightning and .45 Peacemaker
and lays them on the table.
There, now we can be friends
Again. But remember, Ed,
Friendship is trust-so please
Don't hurt me.
Doc bats his eyelashes. Bailey jumps up, boiling. A long, sweaty moment, then
Bailey LUNGES. Doc spring up, grabbing him by the hair and jabbing his fist
into Bailey's armpit. Bailey screams and doubles over. Doc gives him two more
blows, so light they hardly seem capable of the effect they're having. But as
he turns to give him another we suddenly SEE that there's a KNIFE in Doc's hand.
The bartender reaches for the shotgun under the bar. Kate pulls a Derringer
from her muff and puts it to his ear.
Touch that gun, I burn you down!
He backs off. Kate covers the room. Bailey drops to his knees.
Oh, my God...
Does it hurt? A lot? Good.
Eyes gleaming cruelly, Doc blows his cigarette smoke into Bailey's face. Bailey
sinks to the floor in a fetal position. Kate gathers up the pot as Doc retrieves
his guns, looking around the room. Then both back up to the door.
Well, good evening then.
They exit. The others look down at the groaning Bailey lying in a pool of his
own blood. A GAMBLER shakes his head:
EXT - STREET OUTSIDE - NIGHT
Doc and Kate stride quickly down the board sidewalk to the hotel.
I calculate that's the end of
This town. And let's don't bother
About the luggage, darling.
I been having the boy at the
Hotel pack us up every night
Since your streak started
Kate points to 2 horses saddled and packed outside the hotel.
My sweet clever Magyar, so that's
Why you're not wearing a bustle.
Doc gives Kate a peck on the cheek as they mount and ride off...
EXT - TOMBSTONE OUTSKIRTS/COTTAGES - DAY
A small cottage at the edge of town. As the Earps drive up we SEE a sobbing
woman sitting splay-legged in the middle of the street while her husband tries
to comfort her. 3 small children stand alongside them, watching in stunned silence
as Cowboys FRANK STILLWELL, cocky, arrogant, and PETE SPENCE, lean, dark, heave
their furniture and belongings out of the cottage into the street while snarling
things like, "shut up...deadbeats...move it!" The Earps stop, staring
at this scene in shock, Allie looking ready to fight. Virgil restrains her,
Stillwell looks up:
What're you lookin' at?
Virgil looks at Wyatt who shakes his head. They drive on as....
EXT - ALLEN STRESS, TOMBSTONE - DAY
Unlike the dreary, weather-beaten western towns in movies, Tombstone is new
and colorful, part town, part mining camp, a wild mixture of brightly painted
wooden storefronts and half-finished stone buildings rimmed by clusters of tents
and shanties, all perched atop a hill with a magnificent view of the desert
and the purple Dragoon mountains beyond. We HEAR the vibrant din of hammers
and saws, player pianos, hurdy-gurdys, clip-clopping horses' hooves, and pealing
laughter as the Earps drive up Allen Street, the main drag, lined with saloon
after saloon, sidewalks bustling with drovers, miners, Chinamen, and sullen
gun-toting hard-cases. They pull up in front of the Grand Hotel and step down.
JOHNNY BEHAN, handsome, well-dressed, wearing an ornate crescent-shaped gold
sheriff's badge and a ready smile walks up and shakes hands:
Newcomers, eh? Names John Behan,
I'm Cochise County Sheriff. Just
Just this minute. I'm Wyatt Earp,
These're my brothers-
Wyatt Earp...Dodge City, right?
Gave all that up. Going into business.
Well I'm the man to see. Besides
Sheriff I'm also tax collector,
Captain of the Fire Brigade, and
Chairman of the Non-partisan Anti-
Chinese league. A man of many
Parts. Got a place to stay yet? I
Also sit on the Townlot
Commission. Got a couple of
Lovely cottages coming up for
Rent. Here, let me show you...
EXT - TOMBSTONE OUTSKIRTS/COTTAGE - DAY
The Earps and Behan stand on the porch of the very same cottage we saw the Cowboys
evict the family from.
The one next door and the one
Across the street are vacant too.
Same rent and I'll throw in a
Good cleaning. Believe me, you
Won't find a better deal within
Wyatt looks enquiringly at his brothers. They shrug. He's calling the shots.
Wyatt shrugs back. Finally:
Guess we'll take all three.
EXT - O.K. CORRAL/ALLEN ST. - DAY
A large stable and corral backing up into a vacant lot. Wyatt's big horses feed
in their stalls while Wyatt faces the stableboy:
...and easy on the grain, I don't
want 'em too fidgety.
Morgan and Virgil enter with FRED WHITE, the jovial old town marshal. Shaking
hands, all 4 go up Allen, taking in the town.
Wyatt, meet Fred White, he's town marshal.
Lotta law around here. Just met the Sheriff.
Who, Behan? He ain't no law, only
Real law here's the Cowboys.
The Cowboys, yeah. I heard of 'em.
Nobody does nothin' without 'em.
They're it. Hell, even the
Apache're scared of 'em. There's
A couple right there: Sherman
McMasters and Pony Deal. Can
Always spot a Cowboy, they all
Wear those red sashes.
White points to SHERMAN MCMASTERS and PONY DEAL, a half-breed, standing over
by the hotel,
joking in sign language.
Look pretty rough.
Just like any other hard cases.
Gotta know how to handle 'em.
Well I'm no Wild Bill. Way I
Handle 'em's just mainly live and
Let live. That usually answers
But even so, gets kinda spooky
Sometimes. Still somebody's gotta
Do it, I mean how the hell else
You gonna walk down the street?
Doesn't anybody raise a stink?
The hell kinda town is this?
Boomtown. Wide open. People
Grabbin' with both hands ain't
Got time for any law and order.
In fact the less law the more
Opportunities there are for
Makin' money. Plain fact is the
Cowboys're good for business.
What about all these saloons?
Ah, now that's the real mother-
Lode in Tombstone. Up and down
Allen Street, full-blast 24 hours
A day, liquor, hostesses,
Gamblin', makin' money hand over
Fist. All except the Oriental. On
Account of the element. Have a
Man for breakfast in there most
Days. Regular slaughter house.
High-rollers won't go near it.
Too bad, nice place.
Wyatt nods, suddenly very interested as they walk on and....
EXT - ORIENTAL SALOON - DAY
We feel the sensual delight of going from hot sun into cool dark as Wyatt enters,
going up to the ornate mahogany bar. Though a large, handsome saloon complete
with gaming tables, it has only a few patrons on hand. "The Lilly and the
Rose" is on the player piano as bartender MILT JOYCE appears:
What can I get you?
Let me have one of those cigars.
(lights up, looks around)
Kinda nice in here. You run it?
Milt Joyce, owner-operator.
Well, excuse me for askin', Milt,
But isn't it kinda dead in here?
Joyce points to the faro table in the corner where JOHNNY TYLER, an unshaven
plug-ugly with a big D.A. Colt .45 carried ostentatiously in a shoulder holster,
deals to a couple of scruffy-looking drifters.
You see that bird at the faro
Table? That's Johnny Tyler. He
Barged in here one day, said he
Was takin' over the game, started
Slappin' customer, wavin' his
Gun around, scarin' off all the
High-class play. Only trade comes
In here now's just bummers and
Drovers, just the dregs.
Why don't you get rid of him and
Get yourself straight dealer?
Well sure, neighbor, easy to say.
INT - FARO TABLE - DAY
As Wyatt walks up Tyler starts snarling at one of the players:
You back that Queen again, you
Son of a bitch, I'll blow you
Right out of that chair!
(looks up, sees Wyatt)
Somethin' on your mind?
Just wanted to let you know
You're sitting in my chair.
That a fact?
Yeah. It's a fact.
Tyler looks Wyatt over, noting he is unarmed. He stands, sneering:
For a man that don't go heeled
You run your mouth kinda reckless.
Don't need to go heeled to get
The bulge on a dub like you.
That a fact?
Yeah. It's a fact.
Well I'm real scared.
Damn right you're scared. I can
See it in your eyes.
Wyatt steps forward suddenly, eyes cold and hard like a shark. Suddenly realizing
he's in way over his head. Tyler shrinks back reflexively, his hand moving toward
his gun. The other players scatter. Wyatt nods, his voice calm and steady:
Go ahead. Skin it. Skin that
Smoke wagon and see what happens.
Listen Mister, I'm getting' tired-
Wyatt abruptly SLAPS his face, making his teeth clack together.
I'm getting tired of your gas.
Jerk that pistol and go to work.
Tyler goes pale, all pretense of courage gone. Wyatt slaps him again.
I said throw down, boy.
Another slap. Tyler stays frozen, blood dripping down his chin.
You gonna do something or just
Stand there and bleed?
Tyler's done. Wyatt plucks his gun away, handing it to Joyce.
No, I didn't think so. Here,
Milt. Keepsake, hang it over the
Bar. All right, youngster. Out
Wyatt takes Tyler by the ear, dragging him across the room like an unruly child.
At the door he gives the ear a twist.
And don't come back. Ever.
Tyler winces. Wyatt shoves him out into the street then turns to Joyce casually:
See how easy that was?
EXT - CORNER OF ALLEN & 5TH STREET (STAGECOACH) - DAY
Later. Wyatt walks up to his brothers at the corner.
Well we're off and running. Just
Acquired us a quarter-interest in
The game at the Oriental.
So to speak.
Down the block, unseen by the Earps, a wild-eyed Tyler is advancing on them
with a sawed-off shotgun. He is within 20 feet when suddenly:
Why Johnny Tyler, you madcap,
Where are you going with that
Tyler spins around to see Doc standing in a doorway, smiling. Tyler freezes.
Doc. I didn't know you were in town.
Wyatt spots Doc and walks up, brothers in tow. Though they don't so much as
shake hands, we sense a strong bond between the 2 men.
Doc! How the hell are you?
Perfect, Wyatt. Simply perfect.
Wyatt? Wyatt Earp?
Going into business for
Ourselves. Wyatt just got us a
Since when is faro a business?
Didn't you always say gambling's
An honest trade?
I said poker's an honest trade.
Only suckers buck the tiger. The
Odds are all with the house.
Depends how you look at it. I
Mean it's not like anybody's
Holding a gun to their heads.
That's what I love about Wyatt.
He can talk himself into anything.
They laugh. Frozen there. Tyler begins to tremble. Finally:
Oh sorry, Johnny, I forgot all
About you. You can go now. Just
Leave the shotgun.
Tyler scuttles off as Behan approaches affably. Doc sniffs.
Sheriff Behan, Doc Holliday.
Forgive me if I don't shake hands.
So how's Tombstone treating you?
Fine, fine. But I was thinkin',
You know what this town really
Needs is a race track.
Actually, you know, that's not a
Bad idea, send a signal we're
Little ahead of yourselves,
Aren't you? This is just a mining
See how everyone dresses? Awfully
Toney for a mining camp. No, the
Die's cast, we're growing, be as
Big as San Francisco in a few
Years. And just as sophisticated.
I can hardly wait.
As if on cue, a bullet WHIZZES past Behan's head. Everyone ducks. More GUNFIRE
as a man holding a bloody hand to his throat reels out the door of the nearby
Crystal Palace, his gun firing wildly like a sputtering engine before he pitches
face first onto the sidewalk, dead. Immediately 2 more men appear: a staggering
DRUNK with a bullet hole in his shoulder; and TURKEY CREEK JACK JOHNSON, a leathery
plainsman with his gun at the ready. A crowd forms as the drunk raises his pistol,
You son of a bitch!
That's right, keep comin', keep comin'...
(turns to Behan)
I know him. That's Creek Johnson.
Suddenly a 3rd man, TEXAS JACK VERMILLION, long-haired, hawk-nosed, appears,
pistol at the ready, keeping bystanders at bay.
Easy, gents. Private affair...
Wyatt! Doc! Hey!
The drunk now has raised his gun to where it's almost level and:
Yeah, good. Right about there.
Johnson FIRES. The drunk drops in a heap. Johnson spots Wyatt:
Hello, Wyatt! Hiya Doc!
What was that all about?
Drunks. Crawfished a bet, called
Him a liar. I saw the whole thing.
(turns to Behan)
Sheriff, may I present a pair of
Fellow sophisticates, Turkey
Creek Jack Johnson and Texas Jack
Vermillion? Watch your ear, Creek.
Doc points to his bloody ear. Johnson touches it, sees the blood, gives a silent
start. Just then White arrives, looking weary, facing Johnson and Vermillion.
'Fraid I'll have to have those guns.
Fair fight. We were legal.
Sorry, boys. Gotta take you
Before Judge Spicer.
Well law and order every time,
They hand over their guns while Virgil looks at the 2 dead men lying in the
street, shaking his head:
What kinda town is this?
They look. A stagecoach stops in the street. JOSEPHINE MARCUS looks out the
window, her little white dog under her chin. She and Wyatt spot each other instantly,
That must be the theatrical
Troupe. There's a show tonight at
Hey, Wyatt, you goin' to the
Show? Maybe we'll see you there.
(turns to White)
White leads them off to jail. Wyatt and Josephine hold each other's gaze as
the coach drives on. Doc smiles:
Well, an enchanted moment
EXT - GRAND HOTEL (STAGECOACH) - DAY
Pony Deal and McMasters watch as the actors exit the coach for the hotel. Josephine
turns to the pretty 1st actress:
Interesting little scene. I
Wonder who that tall man was.
Typical frontier type. Long and
Lean. And those gray eyes. Like a
Wild hawk. You see quite a few of
His type out here.
Oh, I want one.
INT - LOBBY, GRAND HOTEL - DAY
The actors enter, going to the desk while Josephine looks for a place to sit.
A fat, well-dressed easterner with a newspaper sits nearby, ignoring her. Seeing
this from outside, McMasters instantly barges into the lobby, hoists the easterner
out of his chair, and hurls him bodily out into the street. Josephine nods her
surprised thanks. McMasters tips his hat shyly, exits as the 1st actress returns
with her key. They exchange looks....
INT - SHIEFFELIN HALL - NIGHT
A full house, pandemonium. Curly Bill, Ringo and their Cowboy entourage form
a block in the center Rows while BILLY BREKENRIDGE, Behan's bespectacled, slightly
effeminate little Deputy makes his timid way down the aisle, looking for a seat
midst the off fist-fight and yelling match. 2 cocky young Cowboys, BILLY GROUNDS
and ZWING HUNT, call out to him:
Hey, Sister Boy!
Shut up, Zwing. Sit here, Billy.
Curly Bill beckons. Happy as a lark, Breakenridge takes the seat next to him.
Up above, the Earps sit in a box, the women thrilled:
This is so much fun! We haven't
Been to a show since years.
I hope they're good.
(shouting from below)
Lady, they better be good.
Doc enters, Kate on his arm. The women exchange uneasy nods.
Kate, you know the Earps.
They sit as White enters with Mayor JOHN CLUM and wife.
Wyatt, this is Mayor Clum and his wife.
Your reputation precedes you. I wonder -
Not a prayer. Nice meetin' you.
While the orchestra tunes up and the crowd's excitement rises, White sits next
to Wyatt, pointing out the different Cowboys and giving a thumbnail sketch of
each as we PAN over them:
Well everybody's here except the
Old Man. Got the blade, Billy
Grounds, Zwing Hunt, Billy
Claiborne, Wes Fuller, Tom and
Frank McLaury, Billy Clanton's
The youngest. Wild one. Then the
Breeds, Hank Swilling, Pony Deal.
Florentino's Mex-breed. They all
Hate Mex, but he hates 'em
Special. Johnny Barnes, Frank
Stillwell. That's Behan's little
Deputy, Billy Breakenridge.
Follows the Cowboys around like a
Puppy. And the big boys: Curly
Bill Brocius, he's the Old Man's
Rimrod; the one looks like an
Actor, that's Johnny Ringo. Best
Gun alive they say. He's kinda
Different. Curly Bill's the only
One he talks to. I mean they're
All rough boys, but Ringo... I
Don't know. I really don't
Music. The house lights dim. The audience hushes. A spotlight hits easel at
the end of the stage: "Professor Gillman and His Ballet of Gravity."
Out in the audience, Barnes groans:
Professor Gilllman? Oh hell, I
Seen him in Bisbee. He catches stuff.
The curtain goes up. PROFESSOR GILLMAN, a 3rd rate juggler in white tie, tailcoat,
and black tights steps out and starts tossing Indian clubs in the air. The audience
starts groaning but the Professor's rictuslike smile never changes. Having seen
enough, Frank Stillwell stands up and shouts:
Hey profesor! Catch this!
Stillwell raises his pistol and FIRES. An Indian club explodes in the Professor's
hand. Screams and scattered laughter in the audience. The Professor is frozen
in utter shock, staring at the bullet graze on his hand and saying out loud:
They shot me! I don't believe it!
A chord of music and the curtain drops like stone. Applause....
EXT - BACKSTAGE - NIGHT
The other acotrs hustle the Professor off the stage, appalled. The 1st Actress
turns to MR. FABIAN, a handsome, slightly raffish classical tragedian.
My God, they're shooting at us!
They're actually shooting at us!
What'll we do?
Only thing we can do, dear-be
Good. In any event, at least we
Won't have to wait for our
Notices. Exciting, isn't it? Now
This is theater!
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