Carry On Cowboy

Synopsis: Stodge City is in the grip of the Rumpo Kid and his gang. Mistaken identity again takes a hand as a "sanitary engineer" (plumber) by the name of Marshal P. Knutt is mistaken for a law marshal! Being the conscientious sort, Marshal tries to help the town get rid of Rumpo, and a showdown is inevitable. Marshal has two aids - revenge-seeking Annie Oakley and his sanitary expertise...
Genre: Comedy, Western
Director(s): Gerald Thomas
Production: HBO Video
 
IMDB:
6.2
NOT RATED
Year:
1965
93 min
274 Views


# carry on, cowboy

# For to ride the range you iove

# Across the wide prairie

# With the burning sun above

# Till you hang up your saddle

# Lay down your gun

# TllI the iast stray's been branded

# Oh, cowboy, carry on

# Tralls where the sage is biowin'

# I'd see the prairie sky

# Dust from the campfires giowin'

# Dogies sing your iullaby

# With your pinto to carry you

# TllI the iast great round-up's done

# carryy on, cowboy

# Oh, cowboy, carry on ?

[# Dramatic soundtrack music]

[Horse whinnies]

[Texan drawi]

I wonder what they wanted.

What the...? Ah, business.

Take good care of 'em, mister.

They were good friends of mine.

It'll be a pleasure, sir.

What do you want? Plain coffin,

one dollar. Padded, two dollars.

Or maybe you'd like pillows,

beautiful silver handles?

All the trimmings.

- But... that'll be an extra two dollars.

- Give 'em pads...

- Pads.

- ...pillows...

- Pillows.

- ...handles...

Handles.

- And some flowers.

- Flowers?

Pansies.

Hold it a minute, Russ.

- What's the matter, Judge?

- I thought I heard shots just now.

Nah. it's probably

just a horse backfiring.

Oh, yes.

Hey, wait a minute.

I know a horse backfiring

when I hear one.

Come now, Judge,

there ain't been no shootin' in Stodge

since the day you ran

Jessie James out of town.

- What a day that was, eh?

- Hey-hey.

You know, Judge,

I never credited you

with either the guts or the courage

to do a thing like that.

Oh, I don't know. I didn't like having

to get tough with Jessie, though.

She was a nice girl.

I never did get to know exactiy

what she done that was so wrong?

old Ben was a friend of mine, Sam,

and she killed him.

It was his own fault. He was 92.

I warned him not to marry her.

[Laughter]

How she did it was immaterial.

Come on. Let's get back to the game.

it's your draw, Judge.

Someone's dropped one.

- Eh?

- Oh, it's me.

I've got it.

Mrs Bun, the baker.

Happy famllies.

That's another pot I've won.

He, he!

Oh, and mighty purty it is too.

That one's gonna take a lot of timber.

Six and seven-eighths.

Business is picking up.

Yup, I reckon we've come far enough,

old pal. Time to rest up.

Howdy, stranger!

Nice day.

[Spittoon dings]

Disgusting.

Remind me to put up a notice

about that. "No spitting."

Yeah. Yeah, sure, Judge.

[? Piano plays

"My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean"]

Yes, sir. What'll it be?

Lemonade, ginger beer, sarsaparilla?

Don't be funny. Whisky.

We're not allowed to serve hard stuff

in Stodge, sir. Mayor's orders.

That is correct. But I can thoroughiy

recommend the ginger beer.

Don't you talk to me about ginger beer.

- Who is this?

- Judge Burke.

I am the Mayor.

Better keep away from my horse.

He ain't seen a mare in three weeks.

- Come on. Whisky.

- Certainly not. We are fully temperance.

I don't care if you're full of flatulence.

I've been on the trail six days non-stop.

I can't help that.

- I don't like people who get in my way.

- I can't help that.

And I just shot three men who did.

I... Oh, well, in that case,

perhaps just a little one.

They keep a bottle or two for me

for purely medicinal purposes, of course.

- Leave the bottle.

- Oh, I say, I can't have that.

[# Piano stops]

Bottoms up.

[Gunshot]

[# Honky-tonk piano]

[Growls]

- I'll just take that gun of yours, cowboy.

- What for?

I don't allow no shootin' at my piace.

Lady, I wouldn't dream of shootin'

at your place.

I'm not afraid to use this, you know.

My, but you've got a big one.

I'm from Texas, ma'am.

We all got big ones down there.

And the other. Hand it over.

I'll take those, Belle.

Check them, will you, Charlle?

Thank you. Here's your ticket.

You can have them back

when you're ready to ieave.

I ain't leaving for a while.

Oh, that's nice.

We could do with a bit of fun round here.

So you're Belle?

Yeah. My intimate friends call me...

Ding Dong.

Like to give you a clang some time.

How about letting me have

a coupie of rooms?

$10 a day, all in. OK?

Oh, no. I'm sorryy, Belle,

I can't have him staying in Stodge City.

Now, listen here, my good man.

I run this town

and I can't have any trouble around here.

- You won't have to worry about that.

- I won't?

From now on, I'll be running it.

Yes...

Come on.

I'll show you your rooms.

- Do you mind putting that away first?

- Oh, why, sure.

Wow. What a hoister.

Disgusting.

I'm gonna get the Sheriff.

How about that? Three all at once.

Who says there ain't no Santa Ciaus?

It's a disgrace. What's the use

of me putting these notices up?

Where's the Sheriff?

What's he doing?

Earp! Earp! Sheriff!

Sheriff!

Oh, there you are.

Wake up.

There's been a shooting.

It's all right. it's all right.

Don't go mad. it's only me, Judge Burke.

Now, llsten,

there's been a shooting.

- What's that?

- I say, there's been a shoo...

Oh, for heaven's sake,

where's your thing?

There's been a shootin'!

- Yeah?

- There's three men laying dead out there.

- Strange. I didn't hear nothin'.

- I'm not surprised.

You never have your thing in.

It's my afternoon off, Judge.

I don't know what we pay you for,

really I don't.

- Who done it? Do you know?

- Some terriblelooking rough.

He's over in Belle's place now.

You've got to run him out of town.

I don't want that kind of person here.

It iowers the tone

of the whole neighbourhood.

Well, don't you worr none, Judge.

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Talbot Rothwell

Talbot Nelson Conn Rothwell, OBE (12 November 1916 – 28 February 1981) was an English screenwriter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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