Emperor of the North

[Whistle Blowing]...

...[Whistle Blows]...

...[Train Chugging, Approaching]

Easy. Easy. Easy. Hold it.

Hold it. Hold it right there.

- [Brakes Squeaking]...

...[Engineer] Spout it okay?

Okay.

[Engineer] How far down?

- Just about half.

Three quarters is enough.

- Okay. Three quarters.

[Water Continues Pouring]...

...[Engineer] Almost there?

- It's just about three quarters.

Let's get her goin'.

- Okay.

[Metal Clangs]...

...[Engineer] Ready to go, Shack.

[Whistle Blows]

- [Train Chugging]

Goddamn bo.

[Yelps, Whimpering]...

...[Chuckles]

- [Screaming]...

...[Screaming Continues]...

...[Whistle Blowing]...

...[Whistle Blowing]

All right. Bring 'er back.

Come on.

Back, you old bastard.

Come on. Come on.

Hold it.

- [Clatters]...

...[Train Idling In Distance]...

...[Clucking]

- [Shushing]

Now.

[Boy]Jump him.

- [Chicken Squawking]...

Hey, kids, get that damn chicken.

- [Grunting] Geez.

Get the chicken.

Get it. Grab him.

[Boy] I'll get it. [Grunts]...

...[Growling]...

...[Train Whistle Blowing]

Damn.

[Whistle Blows]...

...[Chuckling]

Get out.

[Bolt Clattering]

Huh.

[Whistle Blowing]...

...[Rattling Bolt]...

...[Grunting]

Son of a b*tch.

[Grunting]...

...[Whistle Blowing]...

Hey, look. It's the 19.

- Hi, engineer. Hi.

[Car Horn Honks]

Who are you callin' a fool?

You call me a fool,

I'll push your face in for ya.

[Whistle Blowing]

Oh, I get a hold of that Shack,

I'm gonna bust his ass bad.

[Crossing Bells Ringing]

You ain't gonna light up here?

Well, why not?

- Well, you'll burn us down.

Don't make no difference, kid.

We're gone, no doubt about it.

Ah, it's nothin' but a old pig car.

Uh, pigs eat corn.

This here's hay.

Well, it's nothin' but a old steer car.

Ah, so long, kid.

You croak first,

I'll pray over ya.

Ah, don't pull that crap.

Let me tell you somethin'.

What do you mean, 'So long'?

Well, they'll be loadin' steers

in here in a couple of hours.

Well, what of it?

Steers got horns, kid.

You don't have any.

Ah, they wouldn't do that to us.

What do you mean, 'us'?

- I'll call a cop.

Ninety days on the rocks ain't horns.

It ain't the rocks, kid-

not in this part of the country.

And it's not 90 days either.

You're paroled to the bottom of a pit...

...while the sheriff pockets the two dollars

that he's paid every day for your keep.

And that's no ghost story. This country's

in the midst of an economic depression.

Two dollars a day is a lot of money.

Even the law is sweatin' hard times.

Country's gone to hell.

Ah, they couldn't get away with it.

Not with old Cigaret,

they couldn't.

[Crossing Bells Ringing]

- Old Cigaret?

You remember Hee-haw Mike, all right.

- Oh, the old-time yegg.

Well, uh, I ain't tryin' to scare ya...

...but you ain't seen Mike around, I guess.

I heard he got his neck

broke down in Texas.

Ya heard right.

You the guy that chilled Mike?

Now ya know me.

[Chicken Clucking Softly]

How was Texas?

Still there. So's he.

Hee-haw Mike got it in Frisco.

Shot full of holes by nobody knows.

[Whistle Blowing]

- [Crossing Bells Ringing]...

...[Grunts]

- Well, how we gonna get outta here?

Well, don't worry, kid.

I won't leave you to face it alone.

We'll die game, you understand?

[Chicken Clucking]...

...[Grunts]

Come on. Come on. Hey, hey. Damn.

[Muttering] Hey, hey, hey, hey.

You Rhode Island Red son of a b*tch.

Them horns won't take us alive, kid.

[Strikes Match]

You loony. Geez, you'll get us- [Yelps]...

...[Chortling]...

...[Continues Chortling]...

...[Chortling, Cackling]

Hey, Captain.

Goddamn.

Oh, he's gonna be a mean

son of a b*tch now.

What was he before?

[Chortling, Cackling]...

...[Clattering]

- [Grunts]

Get outta here, you.

[Chortling]

- Jesus Christ.

Close it. And lock it.

Goddamn bo son of a b*tch.

[Man] Mr. Logan, number 19's on fire.

- Holy mackerel.

Don't you understand?

The 19 is on fire.

[Men Shouting In Distance]

- The 19's on fire.

Son of a b*tch.

You ain't cuttin' out on me.

Come on. Get some water up there.

Bring some water.

Come on.

On your feet, bo.

- [Cigaret] Oh, hey. Aw, come on, you guys.

Oh, wait a minute. Hey, wait. Wait.

- Move.

Oh, wait a minute. Aw, come on, you guys.

- That oughta keep you.

Yardlet. Yardlet.

Get them fire extinguishers.

Wait. Wait.

Get some water buckets.

Water buckets.

Wait. Wait.

Sand pails. Sand pails.

I got a train on fire.

George, get that fire extinguisher. Come on.

Get it next to that oil tank,

and the whole yard'll go up. Holy smokes.

What the hell are ya playin' around for?

Damn.

All right. Brake it.

Slow her down.

Get ready to kick it.

Get some hand pumps.

Hand pumps.

[Shack] Come on. Come on. Brake it.

Goddamn y-

- Okay. Stop her.

Come on, Bill. Get out.

Everybody.

Okay. Kick it.

- [Man] Get all the buckets you can.

Hurry.

- Kick it.

Okay. Hold it.

- [Brakes Squeal]...

...[Man] Come on.

That's straw in that car. Get that fire out.

[Men Shouting, Chattering]...

...[Grunts]...

...[Coughing]...

...[Continues Coughing]...

...[Wheezing]...

...[Yardlet Laughing]

- [Shack Blowing Bubbles]...

...[Yardlet Continues Laughing]...

...[Yardlet Continues Laughing]...

...[Sirens Wailing]

Who forgot to grease those journal boxes?

Next time I pick up an empty,

I'm not gonna have it burned...

'cause some damned yardlet

forgot to grease the journal box.

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