Transcription
1TOMBSTONEAn original screenplayByKevin JarreFourth draftMarch 15, 1993?
ROLL PROLOGUE OVER MAIN TITLE: a collage of old photos, prints, etc., and silent live-actionvignettes, all dark and heavily shadowed like a dimly-remembered dream. The first images show theopulence of the Gilded Age, the epic vistas of the west, cattle drives and cowtowns with all theirviolence .V.O. NARRATION“The economic explosion followingthe Civil War created anunprecedented nation-wide marketfor beef. Previously worthlesscattle running wild throughoutTexas were gathered into herdsAnd driven north to the railheadsIn Kansas. Fortunes were made asCowtowns sprang up on thePrairies, wide-open centers ofCommerce and vice, their streetsChoked with heavily-armed youngMen fresh from the cattle drives.In those days the correct termFor a cowhand was ‘drover’.‘Cowboy’, like ‘cowpoke’, wasoriginally an insult implyingdeviant sexuality and was rarelyused. But these invading droverswere a wild breed for soonshootings and wholesale drunkenriots became so frequent thatordinary citizens literally couldnot walk down the street. In factat their height the cowtowns hadhigher murder rates than modernNew York or Los Angeles and thereWas no law but that of the gun.”A dashing FIGURE in a Prince Albert coat appears, long locks tumbling down his shoulders, twin NavyColts thrust into a red sash at his waist, a tin star on his chest. Next we see him in action, downing 3barroom opponents at once, pistols FLASHING around the room like a strobe light:V.O. NARRATION“Straight-up at 75 yards or eyeto-eye at point-blank range, thegreatest gunman of all time wasan Illinois abolitionist farm boynamed James Butler Hickok, betterknown as Wild Bill, the Prince ofPistoleers. But Wild Bill workedHis trade on the side of justiceAnd as marshal of cowtowns likeHays City and Abilene he became aLegend, the one man who stoodBetween law and chaos.”Now Hickock sits facing us, playing poker as a shabby-looking FIGURE with a gun steals up behind himand FIRES .
3V.O. NARRATION“Wild Bill’s fame spread nationwide but his end came quietly inthe spring of ’76 when a strangecross-eyed little drifter put abullet through the back of hishead, apparently for no otherreason than he wanted to kill acelebrity.”Now a group of cowhands carouse a streetcorner, raising hell as 2 mustachiod young LAWMEN walk up,trying to quiet them down.V.O. NARRATION“In Dodge City meanwhile, WyattEarp and Bat Masterson wereBecoming known as fast-guns. ButTheir fame had nothing to do withShooting.”Seeing it’s hopeless, the lawmen whip out their pistols and start clubbing the drover’s making them staggerand grimace, holding their heads .V.O. NARRATION“Earp and Masterson operated morelike modern policemen, usingteamwork and persuasion to keeporder. Still, sometimes thingsgot out of hand.”An ARMED DROVER creeps up behind the lawmen, about to fire .V.O. NARRATION“But Wyatt had a guardian angel.”A REED-THIN FIGURE with a sawed-off shotgun steps from the shadows behind the drover and FIRES.The huge blast WHITES-OUT the screen for an instant, making the drover seem to disappear. The lawmenspin around. The thin man breaks the shotgun open then calmly holds out his wrists to be cuffed. Earplooks at him in shock, mouthing the word “thanks”.V.O. NARRATION“John Henry ‘Doc’ Holliday wasthe son of an aristocratic,highly cultured southern family.Trained in Philadelphia, he hadEmbarked on a career as a societyDentist when he contractedTuberculosis. Advised to practiceIn the west where it was thoughtThe climate and clean air wouldProlong his life, Doc soonRealized it was all only a matterOf time and gave up dentistry toBecome a professional gambler andGunman ”
4The scene shifts to an elegant Victorian home: a stern Jewish patriarch orders his darkly beautifulDAUGHTER upstairs as her weeping mother looks on. The girl huffs up the stairs followed by her littlewhite dog. Next, the girl and dog are seen escaping through a window to the street below and a waitingcab.V.O. NARRATION“Others headed east. Bent onbecoming an actress. JosephineMarcus defied her wealthy andVery proper San Francisco JewishFamily to run away with aTraveling theatrical company,Braving the perils of theFrontier on her own. Dangerous asThis might seem, it was anotherAge and women were so rare, theirPresence so cherished that theyCould travel virtually anywhereIn the west in perfect safety.”Now we see HORSEMEN silhouetted against the night sky, a hand knocking on a door, figures conferringin darkness, then more riders, moving west in restless haste toward the rising sun .V.O. NARRATION“At about this time the TexasRangers, having eliminated theCommanche threat, turned theirAttention to the outlaw gangsMarauding along the Rio Grande,Cleaning up the border strip in 4Years of hard riding. Those theyCould not indict or convict theRangers put down in their BlackBook, letting it be known thatThey could either leave Texas orFace summary execution. ThisResulted in the mass migration ofThe absolute dregs of the TexasUnderworld to the most dangerous,Uncivilized part of the entireCountry, the southeast corner ofThe Arizona Territory.”A jagged, moonlit landscape, a lone prospector and his burro moving along a ridge, a pick digging into arocky ledge, an ore car emerging from a mine shaft, finally a hilltop cluster of tents becoming the skeletalwood-frame beginnings of a town .V.O. NARRATION“Harsh and inhospitable, savagedin turn by the Apache and Mexicanbandits, this had always been anaccursed place, a virtual hell onearth where it was thought lifeitself could never prosper, muchV.O. NARRATION (cont.)
5less civilization. Then in 1879,a prospector named Ed Schiefflinset off alone into the DragoonMountains. Friends told him heWas crazy, that the only thingHe’d find in this GodforsakenPlace would be his tombstone.Instead he found silver, lots ofIt, and overnight the town ofTombstone sprang up. MiningTaking out millions in ore. LandValue shot sky-high andSpeculators and gamblers andOpportunists of all nationsScrambled in by the thousands toMake Tombstone queen of theBoomtowns, so rich that theLatest Paris fashions, hard toFind even in the biggest cities,Were sold there by the wagonloadFrom the makeshift storefronts.”An engraving of a stagecoach holdup, herds of cattle moving north, a newspaper story of a massacre inMexico, congressmen railing at each other, shaking their fists .V.O. NARRATION“Meanwhile, the exile Texans hadbanded together to form thenucleaus of an organized gang.Seizing controp of theSurrounding countryside theyRobbed stagecoaches at will whileThe big absentee businessInterests employed them as taxCollectors and strongarm men. ButThe backbone of their tradeRemained border rustling,Periodic raids into Mexico toSteal cattle while engaging inWhat was described as a virtualOrgy of murder and violence. TheRaids became so frequent and soBloody that the MexicanGovernment formally protested toU.S. President Chester A. Arthur,Prompting heated debate inCongress. General ShermanDeclared that the only possibleWay of bringing order was to sendIn the army but in the wake ofCivil War Reconstruction federalIntervention in civilian affairsWas politically impossible.”
6Pounding hooves, flowing manes, a pack of night-riding HORSEMEN kicking hell-for-leather across thedesert moonscape .V.O. NARRATION“With only some 100 members, thegang was an elite body of gunmen,known by the red silk sashes theywore around their waists.Fiercely proud of theirTerrifying reputation andAnswerable to no one, they were aLaw unto themselves, finallyEmerging as one of the earliestExamples in American history ofFull-scale organized crime.”END MAIN TITLE as the screen fades to an ominous black and .V.O. NARRATION“They called themselves theCowboys.”EXT – SONORA DESERT/CANYON ENTRANCE – DAYBurning daylight, hard reality. A squad of uniformed MEXICAN RURALES rides through the Sonoradesert, sabres glinting in the sun. Approaching the mouth of a rocky canyon their hard-bitten CAPTAINsignals them to stop, leaning down to study a jumble of hoofprints on the ground. He turns to the anxiouslooking YOUNG RURALE on his right, speaking in Spanish via subtitle:CAPTAINIt’s them, only an hour north.YOUNG RURALEBut this is the border.CAPTAINYou saw what those animals did atThat rancho. You think a borderIs going to stop me? No, I’mGoing to see them suffer for whatThey did! I swear it on my soul!The Captain spurs his horse and they ride on at a gallop, plunging into the canyon .DELETEDEXT – SKELETON CANYON – NIGHTThe full moon throws fantastic shadows across the high walls of the canyon as the Rurales ride through. Atthe bend the Captain halts them. The young one starts to speak but the Captain shushes him, peering intothe darkness. A few beats then:CAPTAINTurn around! Fast! Now!
7But suddenly GUNFIRE erupts from the shadows all around them, blasting them from the saddle, eachpowder flash lighting up the canyon for an instant, freezing each victim in the moment of his death. Then,just as abruptly the firing stops, leaving only the Captain, the young Rurale, and a 3rd Rurale alive. Dazedand bloody, they struggle to their feet as 6 armed FIGURES emerge from the shadows, walking into themoonlight toward them. With broad-brim hats swept up in front, silk scarves and red sashes, high bootsand silver-studded gunleather, they look like 17th century pirates. These are the Cowboys: OLD MANCLANTON, the ageless, white-bearded leader; CURLY BILL BROCIUS, 2nd -in-command, smiling, bullnecked; IKE and BILLY CLANTON, the old man’s sons; FLORENTINO, a Mexican half-breed; andJOHNNY RINGO, dark, Byronic, with an air of something very strange. The Old Man nods to Florentino:OLD MAN CLANTONTell ‘em to get on their knees.Florentino does so in Spanish. The others kneel but the Captain remains on his feet, steely-eyed, defiant.FLORENTINOHe will not kneel. He is proud.CURLY BILLSo how’d you like our littleCarry-on over at that rancho?Kinda hit the spot didn’t it?CAPTAINAnimals! Butchers!OLD MAN CLANTONHey, somebody get that stick onHis knees.Curly Bill casually FIRES his shotgun into the Captain’s legs, dropping him into a splayed lotus position.Curly Bill knods.CURLY BILLGracias.OLD MAN CLANTONThey call me Old Man Clanton. I’mWhat you might call the founderOf the feast. Now maybe you ain’tHeard, but we skylark throughYour dingy little country justAbout any time we damn wellPlease and big-hat, crummy Lookin’ free-holes stumblin’Around in the dark ain’t allowed.Messican po-lice, huh? ThinkYou’re bad medicine, don’t you?Hell, I’ve let stronger stuff runDown my leg. So next time we comeBetter step aside. Get in ourHair again, we’ll saw your prodsOff with butter knives and stuff‘em in your gobs. Ain’t kiddin’neither. You been told. Now git.
8The others rise and dash away but Curly Bill stops the Captain:CURLY BILLHold up, jefe. Got a joke I wannaTell you.The Captain speaks grimly in Spanish. Florentino smiles.FLORENTINOHe say he know you killing him.CURLY BILLNow how’d he figure that out?FLORENTINOHe say he is no’ afraid, someoneWill revenge for him. A sickHorse.CURLY BILLA sick horse? What the hell Scattered chuckles from the others but we notice Ringo frown and draw his pistol as the Captain repeats thewords.FLORENTINOSomething, I don’t know, he talkFancy, you know, like a priest.Is like, “a sick horse who sits---“RINGOThat’s not what he said, youIgnorant wretch. Your spanish isWorse than your English. Come on,Let’s get it over with.Ringo takes aim. The Captain sneers, suddenly in English:RURALE CAPTAINYou go to hell!RINGOYou first.EXT – ARIZONA DESERT – DAWNGUNSHOTS as the Cowboys fire their pistols and shout, running their stolen herd out of a draw into aclearing where the McLaury brothers wait: FRANK, older, edgy; and TOM, younger, easy-going.TOMLooks like you had a party!CURLY BILLOh, we had a big time!
9The Old Man, Curly Bill, and Ringo rein up and look out at the sun rising magnificently from the desertfloor. The Old man stretches his legs in the stirrups, taking out a whiskey flask.OLD MAN CLANTONAin’t that sweet? That’s why IStay out here. Thank you, God.He raises the flask and drinks. Curly Bill turns to Ringo:CURLY BILLWhat’d the Messican mean, a sickHorse’s gonna get us? Didn’t makeNo sense.RINGOHe was quoting the bible,Revelations: “Behold a pale horseAnd the one that sat on him wasDeath and Hell followed with him.”CURLY BILLWell now that’s a little moreLike it.EXT – TRAIN STATION PLATFORM/TELEGRAPH OFFICE – DAYA BLACK HORSE, a fabulous thoroughbred stallion, rears and neighs on an open flat-car where it’stethered with 4 near-identical geldings. A small boy tries to pet it as a strong-featured, fair-haired MANappears, quieting the horse. Tall and slim in a black frock coat and black flat-brim hat, he moves withassurance and grace, a man in control. This is WYATT EARP.DAKE“Dear Governor Gosper—in reyours directing action againstCowboys, stop. Beg to inform haveTwice sent deputies to serveWarrants on Cowboy suspects,Stop. Nothing to show for it but2 dead deputies, stop. Short ofdeputizing U.S. Army am at loss—DEPUTY(points at Wyatt)The tall man over there, Marshal.I’m not sure but I think that’sWyatt Earp.DAKEWyatt Earp? Oh, right, Dodge City.Back down the platform Wyatt strokes the stallion gently, looking up as Dake approaches.DAKEMr. Earp? My name’s Dake, Crawley Dake. I’m the U.S. Marshal for—
10WYATTForget it.DAKEExcuse me?WYATTI said forget it, answer’s no, IDon’t want the job and that’sFinal. I’m going to Tombstone andNothin’ short of dyin’s gonnStop me. Good day.DAKEBut wait, you don’t understand—WYATTNo Marshal, you don’t understand.I’m through with lawing, I’mThrough with the wholeProposition. Forever. I did myDuty, now I’d like to get on withMy life. That is if you don’tMind. Jesus. Good day now.DAKEI see, off to strike it rich,Huh. All right, fine, wish youLuck. Tell you this though, neverWas a rich man yet didn’t wind upWith a guilty conscience.WYATTAlready got a guilty conscience,Might as well have the money too.Dake retreats. Wyatt turns back to his horse testily. Suddenly:O.S. VOICEBoy, I’d know that sour faceAnywhere.Wyatt turns. His brothers stand behind him, smiling. Though VIRGIL is a little older and heavier.MORGAN a little younger and slimmer, they’re otherwise identical to Wyatt, right down to their style ofdress. Wyatt breaks into a grin, hugging them both, his cool replaced with an almost boyish enthusiasm.MORGANWell how do we look?WYATTHey! Virgil! My God! Morgan! Hey,Boy! You look great! Both of you!Virgil’s blonde wife ALLIE, small, fierce, and Irish, steps up with Morgan’s fair, cameo-lovely youngLOUISA in tow.
11VIRGILWyatt, you remember AllieALLIEGood God, well he better.WYATT(hugs her, laughing)Allie-girl And Louisa! You’reSo lovely. I’m at your feet,Darlin’. Just at your feet.(turns to Morgan)Guess it’s only right. Ma alwaysSaid you were the prettiest.VIRGILBut she doted on the frownerWyatt’s handsome blonde wife MATTIE enters from the street:MATTIEWyatt, I couldn’t find a singleStore that had laudanum any—WYATTMattie, they’re here! Folks thisIs Celia Ann but you can call herMattie. Or even Mrs. Earp if youPrefer.VIRGILMrs. Earp? Land O’ love, it finally happened! Mattie it’s aPleasure!All exchange greetings and hugs. Wyatt positively beams:WYATTBoy, I sure been dreamin’ aboutThis. God! Since forever! Wait!He turns them toward the stationhouse window, arranging them in a group and pointing to their reflection.WYATTThere, look at that! GodAlmightyWyatt smiles, shaking his head. Morgan’s starts to speak, but:WYATTDon’t talk, just yeah.They stand silently, studying themselves, together as a family. Wyatt still shaking his head happily,drinking it in. Finally:WYATTAll right, now let’s go make our fortune.
12DELETEDEXT – WAGON – MAGIC HOURA large woman, Wyatt’s black horses tied to the rear, crosses the majestic, forbidding Arizona desert withits red volcanic rocks and the giant saguaro cactus dotting the landscape so mysteriously, like huge, spinyhieroglyphics .EXT – CAMP BY RIVER – NIGHTA camp by the river under a clear night sky dripping with stars. After dinner. The women, Virgil, andMorgan sit by the fire. Morgan petting his dog, a sweet little foxhound. Louisa sits behind him, twirlinghis silky blonde hair, turning to Mattie:LOUISADon’t you love their hair? TheyAll have the same hair.Just then Wyatt appears on his stallion, galloping across the moonlit plain toward them, sitting his horselike a centaur. It’s clear he’s a magnificent horseman. Virgil smiles:VIRGILLook at him go, will ya? I tellYou, that’s the real Wyatt, bornIn the saddle.MATTIEOh, he can go all right.ALLIECan he then?MATTIERather ride than eat.The women cackle lasciviously. Virgil groans at Allie:VIRGILTry to be a lady, will you?Wyatt rides up and dismounts, unsaddling the horse.MORGANGive him some good exercise? SureSome stud. Some string in fact.What’re you gonna do, race ‘em?WYATTHope so. Clean up with this boy.Louisa turns to Mattie, fishing in her bag:LOUISAMattie hon’, did you say youNeeded some laudanum? I have aBottle right here. Just be
13Careful. It’s full of hop.MATTIEYou’re a lifesaver! Don’t worry,I just get headaches sometimes.As Wyatt leads the horse away the women get up, Allie and Louisa going to the river with dishes, Mattiecrossing to the wagon. Virgil and Morgan watch her appreciatively:VIRGILMighty fine. Wonder where heFound her. Same place we foundOurs probablyAt the other end of camp Mattie climbs into the wagon and lies down. Wyatt appears and starts to strokeher head.WYATTCome up to the fire, honey.MATTIEI think I’ll just lie down awhileA coyote starts HOWLING from the far darkness. Mattie shudders:MATTIELong as I live I’ll neverGet used to that sound.WYATTThey’re just lonely is all. Hell,I howl myself sometimes.MATTIEYou get lonely?She seems genuinely surprised. Wyatt looks genuinely confused. Over at the fire, Morgan hugs andmashes Louisa playfully.MORGANCome up, Lou. Come up here, girl.LOUISAStop She fights loose. Wyatt walks up, sits, shaking his gold watch.WYATTLook at that. Busted. Brand newMoney Ward, too. 33 years oldAnd I don’t even have a decentWatch. ‘Bout time I startedLookin’ out for myself.VIRGILWell here we are a family again.
14Been so long plain forgot howGood it feels. Want to thank youFor that, Wyatt. All your doin’.WYATTWe’re gonna do it, boys. GonnaGet ours. Feel it in my bones.All we have to do is keep ourEyes on that brass ring.MORGAN(lies back)Boy, look at all those stars. BetYou can see every star there is.Practical touch ‘em. Kinda makesYou think, you know? I mean youLook up and you think God madeAll that but he still rememberedTo make a little speck like me.Kinda flattering really. Hey,Wyatt, you believe in God? No,Come on, really, do you?WYATTMaybe, yeah. Hell, I don’t know.MORGANWell what do you think happensWhen you die?WYATTGot me. Somethin’. Nothin’. IDon’t know.MORGANI read this book, book onSpiritualism VIRGILOh, God, here he goes MORGAN said a lot of people, whenthey’re dyin’, they see thislight, like in a tunnel. They sayit’s the light leading you toheaven.WYATTReally? What about hell? They gotA sign or what?MORGANHey, Wyatt, God damn it, I’m serious!
15WYATTWell that’s your problem. HeyVirge, see anything of Doc whileYou were in Prescott?VIRGILHit a streak when we left. HimAnd Kate.ALLIE(from the stream)Uh, that woman.WYATTI miss Doc. I miss that ol’ rip.VIRGILI don’tALLIENeither do I.WYATTHe makes me laugh.INT – PRESCOTT SALOON – NIGHTA handsomely appointed saloon. At a corner table, the pot is so rich 2 players have folded leaving EDBAILEY, a big, sullen, tough-looking gambler, facing gaunt, elegant DOC HOLLIDAY. Full of southernrefinement and languid, almost feline grace. Doc has such unerring style and aplomb that he makes hisconstant tubercular coughing sound as if he’s merely clearing his throat. Bailey leans forward, seethingwith impatience:BAILEYI said that’s 500 to you,Holliday. In or out?DOC500? Sly boots, must be a peachof a hand.KATE HORONY, Doc’s voluptuous Hungarian consort enters, refilling his engraved silver stirrup cup.She has a faint accent:KATEHere, Doc.DOCBless you, darling(puts arm around her)Darling! Are you mad? You’re notWearing a bustle. How lewd!BAILEYOh, for Christ’s sake!
16DOCEd Bailey, you look like you’reJust ready to burst. Well call meA fool but I guess I’ll just haveTo call. Cover your ears, darling.Doc covers the bet and shows his hand. Bailey pounds the table.BAILEYGod damn son of a DOCIsn’t that a daisy?BAILEYJust pick up your money and go.Sick of listening to you simper.DOCNow Ed, are we cross?Doc leans forward, revealing an ivory gun-butt under his coat.BAILEYSkinny lunger, your guns don’tImpress me. Wasn’t for those gunsYou’d be nothin’.DOCWhy Ed, what an ugly thing toSay! Does this mean you’re not myFriend anymore? You know, Ed, ifI thought you weren’t my friend IDon’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 hisnickel-plated .38 Colt Lightning and .45 Peacemaker and lays them on the table.DOCThere, now we can be friendsAgain. But remember, Ed,Friendship is trust—so pleaseDon’t hurt me.Doc bats his eyelashes. Bailey jumps up, boiling. A long, sweaty moment, then Bailey LUNGES. Docspring up, grabbing him by the hair and jabbing his fist into Bailey’s armpit. Bailey screams and doublesover. Doc gives him two more blows, so light they hardly seem capable of the effect they’re having. Butas he turns to give him another we suddenly SEE that there’s a KNIFE in Doc’s hand. The bartenderreaches for the shotgun under the bar. Kate pulls a Derringer from her muff and puts it to his ear.KATETouch that gun, I burn you down!He backs off. Kate covers the room. Bailey drops to his knees.
17BAILEYOh, my God DOCDoes it hurt? A lot? Good.Eyes gleaming cruelly, Doc blows his cigarette smoke into Bailey’s face. Bailey sinks to the floor in a fetalposition. Kate gathers up the pot as Doc retrieves his guns, looking around the room. Then both back up tothe door.DOCWell, good evening then.They exit. The others look down at the groaning Bailey lying in a pool of his own blood. A GAMBLERshakes his head:1ST GAMBLERJudas EXT – STREET OUTSIDE – NIGHTDoc and Kate stride quickly down the board sidewalk to the hotel.DOCI calculate that’s the end ofThis town. And let’s don’t botherAbout the luggage, darling.KATEI been having the boy at theHotel pack us up every nightSince your streak startedKate points to 2 horses saddled and packed outside the hotel.DOCMy sweet clever Magyar, so that’sWhy you’re not wearing a bustle.Doc gives Kate a peck on the cheek as they mount and ride off EXT – TOMBSTONE OUTSKIRTS/COTTAGES – DAYA small cottage at the edge of town. As the Earps drive up we SEE a sobbing woman sitting splay-leggedin 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 tofight. Virgil restrains her, Stillwell looks up:STILLWELLWhat’re you lookin’ at?Virgil looks at Wyatt who shakes his head. They drive on as .
18EXT – ALLEN STRESS, TOMBSTONE – DAYUnlike the dreary, weather-beaten western towns in movies, Tombstone is new and colorful, part town, partmining camp, a wild mixture of brightly painted wooden storefronts and half-finished stone buildingsrimmed by clusters of tents and shanties, all perched atop a hill with a magnificent view of the desert andthe 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, themain drag, lined with saloon after saloon, sidewalks bustling with drovers, miners, Chinamen, and sullengun-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 walksup and shakes hands:BEHANNewcomers, eh? Names John Behan,I’m Cochise County Sheriff. JustHit town?WYATTJust this minute. I’m Wyatt Earp,These’re my brothers—BEHANWyatt Earp Dodge City, right?WYATTGave all that up. Going into business.BEHANWell I’m the man to see. BesidesSheriff I’m also tax collector,Captain of the Fire Brigade, andChairman of the Non-partisan AntiChinese league. A man of manyParts. Got a place to stay yet? IAlso sit on the TownlotCommission. Got a couple ofLovely cottages coming up forRent. Here, let me show you EXT – TOMBSTONE OUTSKIRTS/COTTAGE – DAYThe Earps and Behan stand on the porch of the very same cottage we saw the Cowboys evict the familyfrom.BEHANThe one next door and the oneAcross the street are vacant too.Same rent and I’ll throw in aGood cleaning. Believe me, youWon’t find a better deal withinTown limits.Wyatt looks enquiringly at his brothers. They shrug. He’s calling the shots. Wyatt shrugs back. Finally:WYATTGuess we’ll take all three.
19EXT – O.K. CORRAL/ALLEN ST. – DAYA large stable and corral backing up into a vacant lot. Wyatt’s big horses feed in their stalls while Wyattfaces the stableboy:WYATT and easy on the grain, I don’twant ‘em too fidgety.Morgan and Virgil enter with FRED WHITE, the jovial old town marshal. Shaking hands, all 4 go upAllen, taking in the town.MORGANWyatt, meet Fred White, he’s town marshal.WYATTLotta law around here. Just met the Sheriff.WHITEWho, Behan? He ain’t no law, onlyReal law here’s the Cowboys.VIRGILThe Cowboys, yeah. I heard of ‘em.WHITENobody does nothin’ without ‘em.They’re it. Hell, even theApache’re scared of ‘em. There’sA couple right there: ShermanMcMasters and Pony Deal. CanAlways spot a Cowboy, they allWear those red sashes.White points to SHERMAN MCMASTERS and PONY DEAL, a half-breed, standing over by the hotel,joking in sign language.VIRGILLook pretty rough.WYATTJust like any other hard cases.Gotta know how to handle ‘em.WHITEWell I’m no Wild Bill. Way IHandle ‘em’s just mainly live andLet live. That usually answersBut even so, gets kinda spookySometimes. Still somebody’s gottaDo it, I mean how the hell elseYou gonna walk down the street?VIRGILDoesn’t anybody raise a stink?
20The hell kinda town is this?WHITEBoomtown. Wide open. PeopleGrabbin’ with both hands ain’tGot time for any law and order.In fact the less law the moreOpportunities there are forMakin’ money. Plain fact is theCowboys’re good for business.WYATTWhat about all these saloons?WHITEAh, now that’s the real motherLode in Tombstone. Up and downAllen Street, full-blast 24 hoursA day, liquor, hostesses,Gamblin’, makin’ money hand overFist. All except the Oriental. OnAccount of the element. Have aMan for breakfast in there mostDays. Regular slaughter house.High-rollers won’t go near it.Too bad, nice place.Wyatt nods, suddenly v ery interested as they walk on and .EXT – ORIENTAL SALOON – DAYWe feel the sensual delight of going from hot sun into cool dark as Wyatt enters, going up to the ornatemahogany bar. Though a large, handsome saloon complete with gaming tables, it has only a few patronson hand. “The Lilly and the Rose” is on the player piano as bartender MILT JOYCE appears:JOYCEWhat can I get you?WYATTLet me have one of those cigars.(lights up, looks around)Kinda nice in here. You run it?JOYCEMilt Joyce, owner-operator.WYATTWell, 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 bigD.A. Colt .45 carried ostentatiously in a shoulder holster, deals to a couple of scruffy-looking drifters.JOYCEYou see that bird at the faroTable? That’s Johnny Tyler. He
21Barged in here one day, said heWas takin’ over the game, startedSlappin’ customer, wavin’ hisGun around, scarin’ off all theHigh-class play. Only trade comesIn here now’s just bummers andDrovers, just the dregs.WYATTWhy don’t you get rid of him andGet yourself straight dealer?JOYCEWell sure, neighbor, easy to say.INT – FARO TABLE – DAYAs Wyatt walks up Tyler starts snarling at one of the players:TYLERYou back that Queen again, youSon of a bitch, I’ll blow youRight out of that chair!(looks up, sees Wyatt)Somethin’ on your mind?WYATTJust wanted to let you knowYou’re sitting in my chair.TYLERThat a fact?WYATTYeah. It’s a fact.Tyler looks Wyatt over, noting he is unarmed. He stands, sneering:TYLERFor a man that don’t go heeledYou run your mouth kinda reckless.WYATTDon’t need to go heeled to getThe bulge on a dub like you.TYLERThat a fact?WYATTYeah. It’s a fact.TYLERWell I’m real scared.
22WYATTDamn right you’re scared. I canSee it in your eyes.Wyatt steps forward suddenly, eyes cold and hard like a shark. Suddenly realizing he’s in way over hishead. Tyler shrinks back reflexively, his hand moving toward his gun. The other players scatter. Wyattnods, his voice calm and steady:WYATTGo ahead. Skin it. Skin thatSmoke wagon and see what happens.TYLERListen Mister, I’m getting’ tired—Wyatt abruptly SLAPS his face, making his teeth clack together.WYATTI’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.WYATTI said throw down, boy.Another slap. Tyler stays frozen, blood dripping down his chin.WYATTYou gonna do something or justStand there and bleed?Tyler’s done. Wyatt plucks his gun away, handing it to Joyce.WYATTNo, I didn’t think so. Here,Milt. Keepsake, hang it over theBar. All right, youngster. OutYou go Wyatt takes Tyler by the ear, dragging him across the room like an unruly child. At the door he gives theear a twist.WYATTAnd don’t come back. Ever.Tyler winc
in darkness, then more riders, moving west in restless haste toward the rising sun . V.O. NARRATION “At about this time the Texas Rangers, having eliminated the Commanche threat, turned their Attention to the outlaw gangs Marauding along the Rio Grande, Cleaning
