The Ridiculous 6

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Lookie here.

My day is made.

I didn't even finish breakfast

and I get to kill me a stinkin' Injun.

Injun?

Nah.

I just dress like this so's I don't get

scalped out on the prairie.

Oh, well, that's a convincing outfit.

Yeah, you can't be too safe out there...

with all of them savages runnin' around.

So, what can I do you for?

Need some flour.

Five sacks.

And a carrot with peanut butter on it.

Now, what's that gonna run me?

Well, sack of flour's 45 cents.

So, five sacks...

is 40...

Wanna get back to me on that?

Yeah, look...

Now, the flour's in the basement.

You can fetch it yourself.

Much obliged.

Well, lookie what we got here.

Sweet piece of red prairie meat

out all by her lonesome.

- What do you make of that, Nelly?

- Oh, I think she's waiting on you, Will.

Go on, get on it.

It's on now.

Yeah.

Go get her, Will.

Oh, oh, oh.

Here we go.

Now, you must be wondering why five badass

hombres with perfect jawlines...

all sport the same stylish eye patch.

Not my business.

We all carved our eyeballs

out our skull

to show how devoted

we are to this gang.

We the Left-Eye Boys!

Yeah!

Hey!

You got real pretty eyes, miss.

You reckon we can,

I don't know, borrow one?

Can we borrow one?

Now, is that a proper question

to ask a lady?

Who are you, slick?

The boyfriend?

Soon to be the husband.

Oh, wait a minute!

That's a white boy under that getup.

That's a white boy? Oh, shit.

You partial to pale faces, Poca-hot-tits?

Huh?

'Cause I can show you

what a real white man's like.

- Yeah, show her, Will. Yeah, go on.

- Yeah, shuffle up, Will.

- Dance now, boy.

- Shuffle on over.

- There you go.

- That's some white boy shit right there.

Now, I do want to carve my eyes out.

- What'd you say?

- Hey, fellers...

I'd hit the trail before you get hurt.

Before we get hurt?

Before we get hurt.

I think you've been smokin' too much

of that peace pipe, kemo-slobby.

Now, from what I see, there's one of you,

and there's five of us.

Four of you.

What just happened?

You wanna see it again?

Uh... yes.

- I don't like this shit.

- Shut up.

Well, that's some, uh...

real fancy footwork.

But I think this hullabaloo has escalated

to the firearms stage.

Boys, let's ventilate this.

What the shit that just happened?

What the hell?

What in the hell?

"Hit the trail. "

It was so simple.

You must stop doing this, White Knife.

One day, there will be too many.

But not today, Smoking Fox.

Please, my love...

we must go.

What the hell

happened out here?

Injuns.

They went that way.

You ain't no white man.

You're that orphan, White Knife.

Raised like an animal with those Apaches.

You think you can fool ol' Clem?

Sorry, Ringo.

Well, now I'm gonna shoot you

and your Injun whore.

Gotta cut breakfast short.

You suck, mister!

You suck!

What are you?

Yes, White Knife.

Go, White Knife.

Yay!

You lucky, Smoking Fox.

White Knife all man.

Bravest of all braves.

Not brave. Foolish.

I want to be wife, not widow.

Afternoon, ladies.

This is Apache land.

I'm not here to take your land, Chief.

I'm just looking for a particular boy.

I'm Frank Stockburn.

This boy's mother was my wife.

And the boy, Tommy...

he's my son.

It is wise to be slow to trust,

White Knife.

But every new journey begins

with a single step.

Speak with your father.

But you are my father,

Screaming Eagle.

Ever since my mother...

Ever since you found me...

you taught me to hunt,

to fight...

when to speak and when to be silent.

- To be a man.

- A good man.

And this Frank Stockburn,

he is filled with lies,

just like every other white man.

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