Quigley Down Under

Watch yourselves. Watch out there!

Hello, hello.

Either hurry up or let the man pass.

Partner, these people

have come a long way, too,

so I know you won't mind

them going ahead. Ma'am.

- Watch your step, ma'am.

- Excuse me. I'm next.

Old people should go last

or get the hell out of the way.

I'm so sorry, Mr. Quigley.

We seem to be holding that man up.

No, ma'am. I just spoke to him, and

he ain't in that big a hurry after all.

Come on!

- Where are you from, mate?

- Wyoming.

- That near Sydney?

- Bit further north.

Hey. I can tell you're a bloke

who's looking for somebody.

- No? Something?

- I could use a good horse.

It's a gentleman from the land of

the free and the home of the brave.

A drink, sir?

A place to rest your bones?

A woman, perhaps?

Ow!

Oh!

You're asking for bloody trouble

mixing in with this lot.

I don't reckon the lady's

all that anxious to get in your wagon.

Roy? Oh, Roy, it's you!

- I'm not Roy, lady.

- Every time there's a ship from America

I come down here looking for you.

Thank God you've come for me!

I'm sorry, Roy. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for everything.

Does Crazy Cora belong to you?

Didn't say that. I said

she don't wanna get in your wagon.

The boss says we can

take some white tarts back,

'cause we're sick of black ladies.

So you just tell Cora to come quiet, and

we'll feed her regular and everything.

Please take me home, Roy.

Bugger off, mate.

Excuse me.

I'm new here,

so I ain't rightly certain.

Is everybody in this country

as butt ugly as you three?

What do you want?

Give him another one!

Don't let the bugger

get behind you, mate!

Back for more, he is?

Look out, Roy.

Sorry, Roy!

- You stay out of this!

- I'm sorry, Roy.

My name ain't Roy.

It's Matthew Quigley.

You?

You're the fella Marston

sent us to bring back.

We sure showed 'em.

Didn't we, Roy?

You got somethin' against

ridin' horses in this country?

We ride 'em when it suits us.

Bullocks eat and drink rougher.

You can put your saddle

on one of them, if you like.

Riding in the back of the wagon

with the women.

I should've known to bring my own horse.

- I wasn't talking to you.

- Don't worry, Roy.

Everything's gonna turn out just fine.

- What are you doing?

- I'm gonna bandage your head.

- No you're not.

- It must hurt real bad.

- I wanna help it get better.

- Quit!

You've helped me enough already.

I'm much obliged.

I don't know why you're being

such a big baby about this, Roy.

Just hold still.

Quit! Now who the hell

is this Roy, anyway?

Hey! Do you need a hand

with Crazy Cora?

Here.

Thank you.

Look, lady. I don't know no Roy,

so you just leave me alone.

Go on.

Yoo-hoo.

Good night, Roy.

Good night, lady.

- What the bloody hell is it?

- Redcoats.

Mr. Ashley-Bloody-Pitt and his heroes.

- Friends of yours?

- They're British.

Get that bloody thing

away from my team!

Why are you taking the body back?

We've got orders to bring in

all suspected cattle thieves.

- The bugger's dead.

- The trial will not be lengthy.

- Carry on, sergeant.

- We're looking for two deserters.

- Can't say I blame 'em.

- Have you seen 'em?

- No.

- New distractions?

Who's this chap on the back here?

- The Yank Marston's brought out.

- Yank?

Come to do for Marston what these

bog-lrish convicts obviously can't.

Well, you just do yourjob

and stay out of trouble.

In our experience,

Americans are uncouth misfits

who have been run out

of their own barbaric country.

- Well, lieutenant...

- Major!

Major, we already run

the misfits out of our country.

We sent 'em back to England.

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