Jinxed!

---

I fell head over heels in Tucson

'til the neon lights shined

on his wedding band

And once a handsome Cherokee

And we danced the night away

in old Cheyenne

Yeah, but something in my heart says

I'll know him in the dark

When at last he comes along

I see him ridin' through my dreams

We're ridin' double as he sings

Is a sagebrush moonlight scene

Yeah, have her bring it up to our room.

He's the answer

to a cowgirl's dream

I see him ridin' through my dreams

We're ridin' double as he sings

Is a sagebrush moonlight scene

He's the answer

to a cowgirl's

dreams

Hiya, dealer.

- I thought you were in Vegas.

- Well, I was, but Vegas got boring.

Las Vegas, boring?

Well, it used to be exciting,

but then, well, you know...

how can I say it? It lost its flavor.

Tahoe, here, is more like it.

Like Vegas used to be.

Oh, sh*t. Twenty-one.

- Is he counting cards?

- No way.

The card ratio wasn't in his favor.

Practically a fresh deck.

- Maybe our boy's tipping him off.

- I don't think so.

I want to see Willie right away.

- What do you want from me?

- A seven wouldn't hurt.

Go f*** yourself.

Why the hell should I?

Is much more fun f***ing you.

Two weeks severance pay, Willie.

- Why?

- 'Cause I think you're jinxed.

Me. Why me? Goddamn it!

P-T-l-O-L-S.

"Filly Baby" is the clue.

Come on, help me out, will you?

You know I hate that anagram crap.

- Reno. Christ!

- What are you bitching about?

Every time I find myself a gig I like,

I got to pull up stakes and move on.

Whenever our pigeon flies, we follow.

First time I had myself a drummer

who worked with me instead of against me.

Plenty of drummers, baby,

but only one pigeon.

- Goddamn!

- What? Stop that!

I told you to put the animal in the trailer!

He gets lonesome back there.

Who gives a sh*t?

I've got cat hairs all down my back!

Don't you touch him!

Get that lousy expression off your face

right now, girl. I mean it.

- I'll bust you one good. You think I won't?

- Okay.

Who's gonna hire a singer with no teeth?

Lay off.

Come on.

Whas your plan? What do you wanna do?

I'll find a place to put the trailer...

and then I'm gonna nose around town

till I find where my pigeon lands.

- How do you do it?

- What?

Work that guy.

- You'd really like to know, wouldn't you?

- Boy, wouldn't I.

God loves me.

Pistol! Filly baby.

A filly's a horse. A horse's baby is a colt.

A Colt is a gun.

A gun is a P-l-S-T-O-L, pistol.

Am I right, or am I right?

You gotta be right. You're Harold.

You bet your ass I'm right.

We're in luck, Bonita.

Our pigeon has found himself

a temporary nest at Harrah's.

I want you to do the same.

Harold, what is the big deal? Why don't you

just bust him and get it over with?

Why don't I just bust you

and get it over with?

I'm enjoying myself.

Would you let me enjoy myself?

Thas what life's all about, isn't it?

Honey, they're gonna go crazy down there

when they hear you sing.

They're gonna want to get you,

my little songbird.

Who spies on your little pigeon.

I gotta have somebody down there

to know what he's doing, don't I?

Right.

Gotta know whether he gets fired, right?

- Whether he's at home sick, right?

- Right.

- Am I right, or am I right?

- You're absolutely right. You're always right.

- Oh, sh*t. Why don't you try being fair?

- I am!

I'm taking the bread

out of the pigeon's mouth.

But I notice that you're eating some of it.

Just the crumbs, Harold.

Nancy!

Barbara, Nancy, together.

You know, like in "dance"!

Thank you.

Hi. What do you want?

I came to look for a job as a singer.

I'm up to my ass in singers.

I'm sure you're very good.

- Would you just listen to one?

- Susan!

- Pardon?

- Could you just listen to one song?

Whas the point?

- Susan, tuck in your tummy!

- I happen to be a good singer.

I'd really appreciate if you left!

- You don't have to be rude.

- Susan! Your tummy!

I'm a very good singer.

Susie! If you're tired, go home!

Oh, my pretty mama.

Hiya, handsome.

Harold, come on, they're gonna see us.

- Where is he?

- Pit No. 6.

You look good, Harold.

- Why don't you bring that on home?

- All right.

Hiya, dealer.

Give me a stack of fives.

- Why me?

- Empty seat. Lighs good here.

Yeah. It is pretty good.

And blackjack.

Is a wonderful game.

- How long has this been going on?

- Half hour.

Time for my break.

Hey, dealer. Here you go. Keep the faith.

Come on. Things can't be that bad.

- After all, is not your money.

- Yeah, but is my job.

- Is this the famous guy we heard about?

- Yeah.

Has anybody checked this guy out at all?

I mean, you know, something?

Since he beat your ass in Vegas,

he's been checked out.

And whad you find out?

His name is Harold Benson.

He's what the book writers call

a "subsistence gambler."

He only plays blackjack.

Wins a few, lose a few.

I'll tell you, Willie, those kind of guys

are the backbone of our industry.

Then last year,

something amazing happened to him.

- What?

- He met you.

- I've seen it happen before once.

- When?

It happened to a good friend of mine,

Stanley Norris.

Blackjack dealer, like yourself.

One day, all of a sudden, he picks up a jinx.

What happened to him?

- You know the Sahara in Vegas?

- Yeah.

He's the guy in the men's room

that hands you a towel.

What am I gonna do, Milt?

Well, something started it,

so something's gotta end it.

Like what?

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