Young Guns

CHAVEZ:

You want to play games, pendejo?

STEVE:

You red-assed Mexican greaser. You do it with your

horse! Mexican greaser!

STEVE:

Greaser! Greaser... come on greaser, cut me there!

DICK:

Hey, hey! Knock it off, knock it off, hey!

STEVE:

Cut me there, Mexican!

DICK:

Knock it off! You know better, Chavez!

STEVE:

Navajo! Navajo!

DICK:

Enough. John's back. Now wash it up and in your

supper clothes! NOW! Both of you!

BILLY:

Who are them?

TUNSTALL:

They, William. Who are they. They are the boys of

the dregs...the flotsam and jetsam of frontier

society, if you will. We got room in the bunkhouse,

my young man. If you don't want to stay...the Santa

Fe runs out of Albuquerque in the morning.

DICK:

Glad you're back, Doc. Stile hold the rope, inside.

CHARLEY:

John bring another hard case in?

STEVE:

Hope it ain't another Mexican.

CHAVEZ:

Mexican-Indian, you son-of-a-b*tch!

TUNSTALL:

If you do wish to stay...well...we have just the job

for you.

STEVE:

He ain't all there is he?

CHARLEY:

Hey, did you know pigs are as smart as dogs? It's

true. I knew a fella in El Capitan... taught his pig

to bark at strangers. What you doing here, body? We

work for Mr. Tunstall as regulators. We regulate any

stealing of his property. We're damn good at it too.

Mr. Tunstall's got a soft spot for runaways---

derelicts---vagrant types... But you can't be any

geek off the street... you gotta be handy with the

steel, if you know what I mean, earn your keep.

BILLY:

Go on, go on, get!

CHARLEY:

Not that I'm a pistoleer...or a knifesmith like that

greaser... Chavez-Chavez, over there. I'm pugilist.

But then I ain't expecting... you to know the

explanation of that word... HOG BOY!

BILLY:

Sh*t, you don't even know why I'm here.

CHARLEY:

Sure I do. You're a runaway derelict, scudbottom

vagrant, ain't you, like the rest of us? Footpad,

maybe? Petty thief? Rob a bank? Kill somebody? Huh?

Huh, kill somebody.

DICK:

Regulators!

CHARLEY:

Hey, you ain't a regulator boy, you can stay here

with the pork. They're smarter than you anyway. You

might learn something!

DICK:

Cattle looks spooked in the lower forty, let's take

a look.

BILLY:

Smart ass!

TUNSTALL:

Well now, look at those appetites. William? Have

some more.

DICK:

Have you ever worked beef before, Billy?

BILLY:

Yeah... I worked a little out Fort Sumner way. Pete

Maxwell's place. Did the chow line. But, I got a way

with cattle.

TUNSTALL:

Is that so jolly funny, Master Steven? That's no

proper table manners.

CHARLEY:

Got a way with hogs.

TUNSTALL:

Congratulations, Charles... You and Steven will be

doing the dirty crockery alone this evening.

CHARLEY:

Sorry, John, it struck me funny.

TUNSTALL:

And to William. Both of you.

CHARLEY:

Apologies William. Just hacking on you, that's all.

STEVE:

Yeah, we're just hacking on you.

DICK:

Rumor has it, you killed a man, Billy? You don't

seem like the killing sort.

STEVE:

Yeah Billy, what'd you kill him for?

BILLY:

He was hacking on me.

STEVE:

There are plenty of men... who will never su-sede...

TUNSTALL:

Succeed...

STEVE:

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