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Смертельная охота

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I'm glad I came here.
Because it wasn't until now that
I fully realized
how little I cared for the man...
...that I will not miss him.
Well...
Happy 1932.
Oh, you feel good.
You feel pretty good yourself.
Take it easy, kid. Easy.
You've got a lot of potential for a rookie,
but damn, you're ragged.
What do you mean, ragged?
Look, if you're in a do or die
contest with big stakes
you let the other guy
get a head start on you.
Take smaller swigs and
hold your breath, eh?
It looks like it's getting to your head.
When you see it's getting to him,
turn that sucker up
and bust it on down.
then you pray to the Lord you get the
hell out before you fall flat on your ass.
Where did you learn
them high school tricks?
Smooth - boy,
you've got to think smooth.
You're standing on my feet.
Sorry. You want me
to take my boots off?
- Where'd you say you learned this?
- Louisiana.
Louisiana?
You know, I used to practice
on my uncle's still.
Damn, I'd drink his whiskey
better than anybody around.
So, my uncle named that whiskey
after me:
Sundog whiskey.
That's a goddamned lie.
That whiskey was called Sundog
a hundred years before you were born.
Go on. Tell them what
your real name was.
Go on.
- I ain't ashamed of it.
- What is it?
George Washington
Lincoln Brown.
Yuck, yuck, yuck!
What's so damn funny about that?
Nothin'. Not a thing, Mr President.
No, but he was a first rate pitcher
with the Negro League.
Then he tried to make
the move over to the majors
by saying he was a Jamaican.
- Or was it Cuban?
- Mexican.
You don't look Mexican.
They didn't want to let me in
the majors and you know why.
Damn right I know why. I must've
heard that story 600 times.
Because I was too damn good.
That's why.
Hell, I'd have pitched that ball
down Ty Cobb's throat,
and made George Sisler
look like a damn electric fan.
They'll never let a Negro
do that to a white fellow. Never.
No shit.
I just kept trying to keep out of the
cold, and that was good enough for me.
Excuse me.
Alvin, she wants to know when
you can be ready for her.
- Tell her soon.
- She says you're a virgin.
She says you walk like you've
got a roll of nickles up your ass.
She says she can wait
for you in the bedrroom.
Well, there's nothing in the book that
says fucking's against the law.
- I'm surprised.
- About what?
- This.
- What?
What about you?
What about me?
Well...
I mean...
didn't it mean anything?
Oh, God, woman, please.
Get your hands off me!
Where is he?!
I've got to talk to him now!
Get out of my way!
Edgar!
That crazy son of a bitch killed Jimmy Tom!
The fucker who stole my dog!
And you let him be!
Crazy bastard!
Do you hear me Edgar?!
Jimmy Tom is dead!
I'll take care of it.
Jimmy Tom is dead!
I told you I would take care of it.
Get up!
A friendly fella.
He set right where you are, boy,
and paid for everyting with $100 bills.
Hey, he just wanted some supplies.
Bought two of my best shotguns
and 700 rounds of ammo.
From the way he acted,
he didn't look crazy to me...
...at least not any more crazy
than anyone else around here.
You dumb fuck.
You lost what brains you had.
How the hell was I supposed
to know who he was?
700 rounds of ammo?
Bought it all. He had a lot of money.
Who is this guy?
Ever hear of the mad trapper - the one
who steals gold from men's teeth?
Yes, I've heard of him.
You think this guy's him?
Sure it's him! How else
would he get all that money?
Must have made a fortune in gold.
It doesn't make sense.
Listen here to the high fallootin' expert.
Tell us what makes sense.
I just figure any man who'll
risk his neck to save a dog's life
isn't going to kill somebody for gold teeth.
Wrong, boy. He's the mad trapper, alright.
Deak, I want to talk to you.
What really happened last night?
I told you.
Deak, I have to know everything
about this man we're going after.
I gotta know him so good,
I can taste him.
Now, how did you get
Смертельная охота Смертельная охота

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