Culpepper Cattle Company, The

---

Kiss my ass, Ben Mockridge!

Kiss my ass, Tim Slater,

if you can catch it!

Let's go! Let's go!

Yeah! Yeah!

Sh*t!

Whoa! Whoa!

- Got you again, Tim.

- Oh, goddamn.

Teach you to mess with

the Ben Mockridge Express.

I'm gonna get you next time, Ben.

Goddamn birds.

I tell you, Ben, if I don't ever see

another chicken again...

as long as I live,

it'll be too soon.

- I've been making plans.

- Yeah? Like what?

You'll see.

- I finally got it.

- Yeah? Where?

- It's in the wagon.

- Let me see.

- Maybe I will.

- Ben, did you bring the laundry?

Uh, here it is, Mr. Slater.

Tell your ma we'll

pay her next week.

That is unless you want

to trade for a couple of chickens.

No thanks, Mr. Slater.

My ma says we could wait.

Go get the laundry, Tim.

Hey. You're gonna show it to me.

- How much?

- Four dollars.

Yeah? Let's see.

That looks like a nice one.

I wish I had one.

If my pa caught me with one,

he'd give me hell.

- Does your ma know you got it?

- No.

- You've been practicing, huh?

- Yeah.

Can you do it? Can you-

Can you really do it?

- Of course I can.

- Let me see.

Told ya I've been making plans.

Yeah, but ain't you still

delivering laundry for your ma?

Not for long.

It so happens that

Frank Culpepper's...

gonna be driving 2,000 head...

to Ft. Lewis, Colorado.

- I plan to go with him.

- Yeah? He signed you on?

Not yet.

Oh, hell, I bet

you ain't even asked him.

I'm waiting for the right time.

- Yeah, when's that gonna be?

Three days after he's gone?

- I just told ya. I'm-

Tim! Unload those crates!

Goddamn chickens!

What you doing creating

so much dust around here?

Excuse me.

Could you tell me where I might find

Mr. Frank Culpepper?

Thanks.

Hyah!

- All right. Coming in.

- Get that big one.

- Come on. Bring in another one.

Keep that rope tight.

Stoke up that fire, boy.

Aaah!

Sorry.

Mr. Culpepper?

Mr. Culpepper is right over here.

Uh, Mr. Culpepper?

Mr. Culpepper?

- Mr. Culpepper.

- What is it, boy?

Can I talk to you

for a minute, Mr. Culpepper?

That's what you're doing, ain't it?

I wanna go with you,

Mr. Culpepper.

I ride real good, and I can do a lot of things.

I mean, I'll work at almost

anything, Mr. Culpepper.

- Oh, I really want to go.

- Why?

'Cause I wanna be a cowboy...

more than anything,

Mr. Culpepper.

Well, that's one hell

of an ambition, boy.

I work hard. I work real hard.

All right. See the cook and...

tell him you're gonna

be his Little Mary.

Thanks, Mr. Culpepper.

I'm Ben Mockridge.

Mr. Culpepper told me to see you.

- He did?

- Yes, sir.

- What for?

- He told me to tell you-

Well-

He told me to tell you-

I'm Little Mary.

I got the money, Ma,

from the Newsomes.

Uh, Mrs. Burns paid me, too.

And, uh, Mr. Slater said

he'd pay next week.

Mom...

I talked to Mr. Frank

Culpepper today.

They're leaving in the morning,

pointing them north.

I asked him

if I could go along.

He hired me, Mom.

Bye, Ben.

- Bye, Mom.

- Be a good boy now.

Yee-haw!

Yee-haw!

I've never been up north before.

Wait 'til we get to the desert.

Sand scorching your eyeballs.

Driving through country

that ain't fit for scavengers.

Dry enough to make you

drink your own piss.

Sit downwind, son.

You really got the itch, ain't ya?

Well, I do.

I guess all I want to do...

is punch cows and ride and...

well, just cowboying.

- There's nothing better than that.

- Like hell there ain't.

- That's all I want.

- Kid, cowboying is something you do...

when you can't do nothing else.

Hayden, you old belly cheater.

Damn, what a day.

Finished skinning them birds yet?

- This here's the last one.

- Did you gut him?

- No.

- Hell, what are you waiting for?

How do you know what

to put in there?

I don't.

How do you make that

look so good?

Print, you and Wallop

take the early watch.

Burgess and Old John,

you take the next.

- When's your turn, Frank?

- Not me.

I'm the king

on this one, mister.

King don't do nothing

but sit on his ass.

The way the Good Lord intended.

Hey, Little Mary...

picket up my horse for me.

Uh, yes, sir. Pete.

Good God!

I just told that kid

to take the horse...

over to

the picket line.

I didn't say to ride him.

I'm telling you,

that kid's as green as grass.

Hey, I had a girl back home once.

Lily of the valley.

Yeah, she was real pretty.

Uh-huh. Pretty goddamn ugly...

and pretty likely

to stay that way.

No, I was gonna marry her.

You'd fall in love

with a stump broke mule.

Oh, you sons of b*tches

can go to hell.

She's probably like

one of them girls...

you was telling us about,

in that saloon.

Oh, yeah. You should have

been with me, Print.

That was some place.

Oh, a place like

any other saloon.

Only it had this here

glass ceiling.

Bunch of Parisian girls

living up on it.

- How many of them was there?

- Sixteen, 17 of them.

- Naked as jaybirds.

- Damn!

That's right.

Every now and then, one of them kinda

hunkered down on all fours...

and licked the glass

with her tongue.

Goddamn!

I'm telling you. I was sitting

down there looking up at 'em.

Well, how come, uh, with all the naked

Parisian gals up there...

the glass didn't break?

Small. Little tiny girls.

Only stood about that high.

Well, that's the truth.

I gotta get out to the herd.

I got enough of this for one night.

Stampede! Stampede!

Stampede, boys!

Get mounted!

Hyah! Hyah!

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes