Why is there a giant hole in my front yard?
It's simple, dad.
Don't get upset.
The hole was my grave.
What?
Gus made me dig my own grave,
then shot me and stole my boots.
Only he didn't bury me far enough, and the buzzards ate my entrails.
So you...
You were playing cowboys and indians, huh?
Just cowboys. Playing indians is offensive.
And then the buzzards ate your entrails. That's awful.
It was a tragic end to our adventure.
But it's the realism that makes it fun. If it helps, Gus ended up getting hung
by a one-eyed, crooked sheriff.
- Did the buzzards eat his entrails too? - Of course they did.
I got a game for ya.
It's called "get your butt in my yard
"and fill in that hole now."
It's the realism that makes that fun too.
He's going to kill us.
What?
He hasn't said a word the whole time he's been driving.
Face it, Shawn. He's finally snapped.
He asked us for a favor. That's all.
We can leave anytime we want. Case in point.
This is all your fault. You and all your practical jokes you play on him.
Those were team-building exercises to build camaraderie.
How do you build camaraderie by changing someone's bank account numbers?
What the hell's going on back there?
Look, I know I've been a tad annoying in the past.
But shooting Gus and disposing his body in the aquifer is not the answer.
Don't be ridiculous. I'm not gonna shoot anyone.
He didn't say anything about knifing anybody.
- Do you really need that clarification? - It would be nice, yes.
So what's with all the secrecy, you handsome, pasty devil?
What we're doing isn't exactly official Santa Barbara police business,
and it isn't exactly in my jurisdiction.
We're going to a small town. The sheriff's an old friend of mine.
Some unexplained things have been happening at night.
You two have a propensity for finding something from nothing,
and I need that gift.
Where's the town?
This is the back.
The back?
Just how old is Old Sonora?
I will ask you to stifle your urge
to make fun of everything that is decent.
Sheriff Hank is a good man who deserves not only your respect,
but your admiration.
Sheriff!
Well, look at you.
Ain't you a sight for sore eyes?
- Thanks for coming. - How you doing, sheriff?
These are the men I was telling you about.
This is Burton Guster and Shawn Spencer.
Well, pardon me, but we had a mess of trouble here last night.
Sheriff Hank Mendel. Pleasure to meet you.
Welcome to Old Sonora.
Thank you, sheriff.
I'm sure you've heard about what I do, how cool it is.
You've now seen my hair, which means you're impressed,
but let's not get wrapped up in gushy compliments.
I get a little self-conscious.
Hell, I wasn't gonna even call you out here,
but binky insisted.
- Binky? - Oh, you don't call him binky?
We do now.
Sheriff Hank, why don't you tell the boys what the problem's been here?
Well, it started out as simple vandalism.
Somebody's been stealing our wood from sidewalks, buildings,
fence posts.
Wood thieves. My first instinct is beavers,
but I'm not willing to rule out those pesky keeper elves.
- What else do you got? - Well, our water's been poisoned,
and check this out.
There's been a stench in the air that wasn't there before.
That's funny. I don't smell anything.
Gosh. Cat urine.
Don't mind him. Cat pee is Gus's kryptonite.
As a child, he was locked in a closet
with the family's incontinent tabby, Mr. B.
- It's a very long story. - No, it's not. That's the story.
Breathe through your mouth.
Since then, things have gotten more aggressive.
Stuff has been stolen,
misplaced,
destroyed.
And folks are starting to get nervous.
And it's my job to protect them.
Drop your weapon and come peaceably.
Well, sheriff, I ain't exactly...
a peaceful man.
- Holy crap. - He shot that guy.
I know. Isn't it great?
This is not a real town.
It's a tourist trap.
Psych 403 "High Noon-ish"
Timing: Psych Team
Listen closely 'cause I'm gonna only say this once.
Old Sonora is an old historic mining town with buildings recreated
to capture the spirit of the old west.
I spent every weekend of my childhood in this beloved place,
and I am not about to let some faceless coward
who only comes out at night tear it down.
I need you two to find out who's doing this... and fast.
All right. Count on us.
I knew I could.
Here's your bedrolls. Good luck.
- We're sleeping here? - Well, it happens at night,
- so you have to stay here at night. - What about you?
Are you kidding? I can't be caught investigating here.
Do you know how far out of my jurisdiction we are?
- See you later, Hank. - Thanks for your help, binky.
You got it. I'll check back with you in the morning.
Wait, so you expect me to stay here the entire night?
Binky! Come back.
I hope you boys like beans.
If this turns into Blazing Saddles, I'm out of here.
- Pull that. - Stop.
Tell me, Hank...
Have you ever seen this vandal?
I've felt 'em.
Was that in an appropriate way?
I felt their presence.
I see.
Can you think of any other explanation
for why this town is falling apart?
Are you talking about the ghost rider?
What do you mean by ghost rider?
According to the legends, he was a horse thief that met his fate
at the end of a rope.
They say his spirit still haunts these parts.
Now I, myself, don't cater to this tale,
no matter how many people out here see him.
- I'm out of here. I'm calling a cab. - Those things don't work out here.
We got no TVs, no radio,
no refrigerators.
Sounds like prison, except they have all those things.
Would you stop it?
How long have you known binky, Hank?
30 years or so.
Used to come here every weekend.
His pa wasn't around that much,
and his ma worked days, so she dropped him off Saturdays.
I guess he needed somebody. I suppose I did too.
We've been close ever since.
In fact, he's about the nearest thing
I got to... family.
I didn't know that about Lassie's papa.
His pa wasn't around much, Gus.
What are you doing?
You hear that?
Something's spooking the horses.
What the hell are we doing?
I don't know, Gus.
I think I'm starting to get why Lassie loves this place so much.
It represents a simpler time
when people weren't so preoccupied with the distractions of modern life.
Like living past age 40.
All right, you be your cynical self.
I'm just saying. Technology is way overrated.
That's interesting. Yesterday you told me you intend
- on having your wedding in space. - And that hasn't changed.
I'm just saying I think the past is also worth preserving.
Your people have a much affectionate memory
of this period of history than my people do.
What are you talking about? We saw Posse together in theaters.
I want to go home.
Yeah, that's fair.
Here's how it's gonna go.
We're gonna tell Hank his town's old and decrepit,
and he should be glad it didn't fall down ten years ago.
There is no saboteur, no vandal, no bad guy.
At the worst, he has a terrible cat problem.
- Watch your feet! - Watch my feet?
- I'm leading the way. - Your stride is too long, Shawn.
It's your ridiculous gait. That's the problem.
No, your shoes are too large.
What?
Don't panic.
- There's no Hank. - No horses.
What is that sound?
Look out!
- Bring him in. - I don't believe this.
I sent you two out there to find out what the heck's going on,
and you get sheriff Hank run over by horses?
First of all, I don't even know how to get someone run over.
And as long as we're assigning blame, the horses shouldn't get off scot-free.
We feel terrible about this, even it was Hank who left us there all alone.
You're lucky he didn't get killed.
I don't want him bleeding all over my couch.
There you go.
Easy.
- That's better. - He should be in an emergency room.
- No hospitals. - He doesn't believe in 'em.
Says the only way he's ever gonna go in one is feet-first.
Come here. Let's put it up here.
Let's take a look.
Guys, this is deep. This man has got to see a doctor.
I don't even have anything to numb the pain.
That's okay. I don't believe in anesthetics.
Gus, just bite down on my big toe.
It'll make me forget about the pain in my leg.
I'm not.
Damn it, Gus, when a man asks you to bite his toe, you bite his toe.
- You do it. - Drink this.
Much obliged.
Hank, I just want to say on behalf of Gus and I,
thank you very much for saving our lives.
I'm the sheriff. That's what I'm paid for.
Technically, you're not a real sheriff, and when you say "they",
you mean you, being that you own the town, which isn't really a town.
- Why? - Just hurry up and do this, will ya?
I got to open them gates by 9:00.
Pal, you're not going anywhere for quite a while even if I do get this sewn up.
Old Sonora hasn't closed in 45 years
and it ain't gonna close today.
Spencer, come here.
With everything that's been going on out there
now finding this dead body, the county wants to shut down Old Sonora
which means not only will a place that teaches children lessons
from a simpler time be lost forever, but sheriff Hank will be left destitute,
and I will not let that happen.
Don't worry, binky.
I already have a plan.
All right, everybody, take a good look.
Keep looking.
Drink it in.
Like a...
bottle of laudanum.
- There a point to this? - There's a point. This.
There's a new sheriff in town, guys.
It's me.
It's just for a couple days.
We all know how we feel about old Hank.
The man loves beans.
So I'll be helping out after the accident last night.
And don't worry.
I'm not gonna go changing too much about the way things work around here.
At least...
- not right away. - Maybe after lunch.
I would like the opportunity to sit down with each of you,
ask a few probing questions, and...
Get to know you a little better.
We can do that later.
They're not very helpful, are they?
- How about I wear the spurs? - How about the sheriff wears the spurs?
How about you kiss my blacksmith ass?
That was county. They got an I.D. on the body outside of Old Sonora.
- He's a Santa Barbara resident. - Yes, that is awesome!
That's gonna at least get us some sort of access to this case.
- I'm calling the county sheriff. - It gets a little more strange.
What, he's a hobo, a drifter,
a psycho with a longstanding grudge against beloved childhood institutions?
He's a multimillionaire businessman. Frank McBain.
Got a house up on the hill. Been missing for a few days.
Wife thought he was on a business trip.
All right,
so let's figure out what he was doing wandering alone
in the hills of Old Sonora in sneakers and shorts.
In the meantime, I'm gonna call a buddy of mine who's a county judge,
get a warrant for McBain's office.
The McBain homicide is a county case. The chief made it very clear
- you are not to get involved. - Damn it, whose side are you on?
I am just following jurisdictional protocol like you taught me to do.
Sometimes there are exceptions.
Look at this.
All of the acreage around Old Sonora has been purchased by McBain,
which means the only land that he doesn't own is Hank's.
And Hank will never sell.
- What's this? - That's the new toll road.
This road's supposed to run ten miles south of here.
Not necessarily. The council hasn't made its final vote yet.
So what did McBain know that we don't?
McBain wanted Old Sonora.
And he would do anything to get it, including wrecking the town,
tryingto shut it down, now getting Hank run over by horses.
We solved it!
Detective Lassiter and O'Hara,
you remember sheriff Becker from the county sheriff's office.
Sheriff Becker just informed me that you have been sticking your noses
into his investigation,
which I recall specifically telling you not to do.
We have cause, chief. We believe McBain was using vandalism
to run a cherished local institution out of business.
The name of this cherished local institution
wouldn't happen to be Old Sonora?
That's neither here nor there.
The fact is we have blown this case wide open.
Well, I hope you have some solid evidence to support those accusations.
Of course.
It's obvious why McBain wanted the land.
He's building a mass transit system in association with the new toll road.
Probably at taxpayers' expense, the heartless bastard.
That's a kiddie railroad.
It's a free park that McBain is donating to the county.
Here's the permit.
He's calling it the ashley baird park. He's not even naming it after his wife.
This woman is probably his mistress, which makes him a two-timer.
Ashley Baird.
Wasn't she the little girl who had leukemia?
She was so brave.
Okay, chief, maybe I jumped the gun a little bit here,
but this McBain is one bad hombre, you got to believe me.
And we can consider this vandalism case completely closed.
- There's a few loose ends to tie up. - Vandalis...
We're talking about murder!
And now we got a prime suspect.
You don't. What are you talking about?
The person who owns Old Sonora who wouldn't sell.
That's not possible.
Dang it, Hank, why didn't you tell me about Frank McBain?
You watch your language, binky, and who the hell is Frank McBain?
He's been trying to buy your land for the last two years.
Hank, you cannot keep this kind of information from us.
We are killing ourselves trying to find who may want to hurt you,
and you leave a prime suspect off the table?
No, the only folks trying to buy my land is the Sweetwater Land corp.
I'll bet McBain used dummy corporations to make the purchases.
It keeps prices from skyrocketing when investors see what's going on.
It's a good thing she's pretty.
Now Sweetwater Land don't want to hurt me.
They sent me two letters six months ago.
I politely declined, and I never heard from 'em again.
Are you sure? 'cause McBain's secretary said
he'd already been out to Old Sonora three times this month alone.
I never spoke to the man.
Then who did?
What the hell is going on here?
This is called 19-card stud.
Regular poker's too complicated. It makes it easier to get pairs.
Plus, anything with a picture's wild.
Why aren't you two out interviewing suspects
or feeling the walls or whatever it is you do? At least do something.
Man, I tried.
I did. These people are kind of mean.
It's a tough racket being sheriff. Besides,
I got to go gun down that stinky feet fellow in about 20 minutes.
- Stinky Pete. - You wouldn't understand.
- You've never killed a man. - Yes, I have.
But you've never pretend-killed one. Repeatedly.
- Struggle with it every time. - Two times now.
- Both times. - While you were sitting here
playing cowboys and indians...
Just cowboys.
Injuns is offensive.
- I didn't say injuns, Guster. - That's what I heard.
- Me too. - Would you just shut up?
Hank has managed to become our number one suspect.
McBain wanted his land, and he was talking to somebody here.
You two need to find out who it was.
- You were thinking today? - A man's life is on the line.
Get out there, and get me a lead.
Man's all hopped up on cactus juice.
Let's start at the saloon.
Little lady.
- What are you doing? - Exactly what it looks like.
Hee-yaw now.
Really?
It's stinky feet!
- He's trying to bushwhack us! - Bushwhack us?
That's not stinky Pete. He's a tourist.
I think you're right about that.
Sorry about that, friend.
Man in my line of work can't afford to be too careful.
I'm sure you understand.
Hello, Miss Annie.
I'd appreciate it if you'd refer to me as sheriff Spencer...
Or hickory pot.
Or dry gulch slim. Any of those would do me just fine.
- That's not gonna happen. - Fair enough.
- How long have you been doing this? - About a decade.
Five years here. Before that at Disneyland.
- They have madams at Disneyland? - No, I worked the teacups.
I'll bet you did.
I'm gonna have to ask you a couple of...
uncomfortable-type questions about Hank.
- You mean that we were lovers? - You... no.
Not... not that uncomfortable, no.
He broke my heart.
But that was a long time ago.
Ancient history.
Hey, there.
You the one that plays deputy sheriff Tripsy, is that right?
That's what it says on my paycheck
if I still get one.
Sounds like you're not too happy with your job right now.
Maybe you're angry enough to take it out on your boss Hank.
Maybe you poisoned the water
so that you could have Old Sonora all to yourself.
Maybe even enough to kill for it?
I don't know what you're talking about.
And as far as Hank goes,
I love the man like a brother.
Please. That's what everyone says.
- Who's everyone? - Miss Annie.
She doesn't love him like a brother.
Definitely not like a brother.
Unless they have a really weird family.
They got some serious flowers up in that attic.
- You know what I mean. - How would I know that?
Dude,
he was there before the horses trampled Hank.
Not so fast there, Tripsy.
You see, we know that you were at the corral the other night.
And just for the record, your nickname is extremely offensive.
So I was up there.
Something spooked the horses, and I went up to check on 'em.
And I caught a glimpse of whoever it was too.
And then he vanished.
You're trying to tell us it was the ghost rider
who tried to kill Hank? Please.
- I don't like your tone, mister. - Is that right?
'cause I've been told it's quite soothing.
- Try to stay on point. - I think you're lying, Tripsy.
It was you who spooked the horses
because you knew dag gum well that Hank would come running.
That's a lie!
I love Hank Mendel.
Get the county sheriff office on the phone.
You tell 'em we found ourselves the vandal
and that he might have just killed McBain too.
Okay, boys.
I didn't see nobody.
But something spooked the horses, and it wasn't me, I swear.
Yeah, I was up there.
It was for a different reason.
I was working for McBain.
Go on.
He was paying me to make a list
of all the safety violations we got around this place.
And he was gonna use 'em to force the county to shut us down.
After that,
Hank would have no choice but to sell to McBain.
And you say he was like a brother to you.
I ain't proud of what I done, mister.
Are there any other employees still here?
When Hank's not around, I'm always the last one to leave.
Is that the...
Ghost rider.
He must have gone in there.
That's completely sealed. There's no way he got through there.
Unless he can move through solids, which, by definition, he can.
Really? We have to have that conversation?
Fine.
Maybe the guy on the horse is not a ghost.
And let's say he is the vandal, which doesn't even make sense,
because the guy who wanted the land is dead.
Even so, there's still something we haven't taken into account yet.
What's that?
What if McBain's murder is related to something else?
Or just a random act of violence?
I'll go even further.
What if the guy on the horse is not vandalizing the town?
What if no one is? You said it yourself, Shawn.
What if this place is so rundown from neglect and old age
that it's falling apart, huh?
I see your point.
A ghost?
Maybe a ghost.
Definitely not a ghost. But a ghost-like fella.
- An ethereal moonlight figure. - Who might be able to go through rocks.
But probably not.
I sent you out there to investigate for 2 days,
and all you come back with is campfire stories?
- Gus got the consumption. - I did...
what's going on in here?
Costume party.
And this wouldn't have anything to do with the Old Sonora, would it?
Sorry, which one's Old Sonora again?
You know, I don't want to hear it, detective.
And if I find out that you hired Spencer and Guster on your own,
that constitutes a conflict of interest and there will be disciplinary measures.
I highly recommend that you stick to your assigned cases.
Gee, thanks for hopping in there and taking some of the heat from the chief.
- You're very welcome. - I was being facetious.
You wimped out.
If you believe the short-sided pundits on CNN,
- but I take a longer view of history. - That doesn't even make any sense.
The coroner's report said McBain's been dead for five days.
Yet the vandalism hasn't stopped since then.
Therefore, we can effectively eliminate McBain.
I'm now sensing that someone else
wants that land. McBain's got the kind of money that's tough to beat.
As a result, he or she...
Or even a he-she.
... had to kill McBain before he got it.
He was eliminating the competition.
Precisely.
Yeah, maybe.
And when I find this murdering scum, I'm gonna shoot him in the face.
Not entirely. That's all just wishful thinking.
We don't have the vaguest clue. No thanks to you Spencer.
So far you've given me bubkes.
Get back out there,
and get to work.
- He just said... - Bubkes.
The thing is, you never have to wonder why Lassie doesn't have more friends.
What are you doing here, man? You should be resting.
You didn't come back for the spurs, did you?
- Where are you going? - I'm leaving town.
- Why? - Well, I been licked.
Whole buildings are starting to fall.
Better I just move on and forget the whole damn thing.
I admit, it's a long shot,
but there's still a chance that we could save Old Sonora.
I've seen the park they want to build. It's a nice place.
And I believe that folks are gonna want to go there.
I'm an old relic.
I've known that for a long time.
Hank, we can... fix the buildings. We'll just get some nails.
And febreze.
Fellas, that sounds awful good, but...
no, it's too late. I've already contacted the folks over
at Sweetwater Land and accepted their offer.
Old Tripsy, he's gonna handle the last show.
Me, I'm done.
I guess that's that.
This list of possible suspects is garbage.
Detectives, a moment.
Now.
Look, chief, if this is about the...
Chief, I just want to say that I am 100% sure that you have no proof
whatsoever that I have done anything even remotely Old Sonora-related
in the last two hours.
Sheriff Becker would like to formally invite you into the McBain case.
Thank god, 'cause I was totally lying just then.
- Sheriff, what can I do for ya? - Just received the ballistics report.
The guys in our lab said they've never seen a slug
a slug like the one they pulled out of McBain, and...
well, I thought...
because of your...
expertise with firearms...
maybe you could help identify it.
They've never seen a bullet like this 'cause it's over 100 years old.
What kind of a gun uses a slug like that?
An original 1873 Colt peacemaker.
You sure this is all you got, Hank? I mean, we're good on space.
We can grab you a wagon wheel. Or that barrel.
- I need to see your pistol. - Why do you need to see that?
You don't think Hank had anything to do with McBain's death?
- Don't be crazy. Come on. - Shawn, stay out of this.
Your gun.
Slowly.
Why you been firing live rounds?
I saw a rat, and I shot it.
Hank Mendel, you're under arrest for the murder of Frank McBain.
Come on.
Read him his rights, O'Hara.
You have the right to remain silent...
Why do people that I try to help usually end up getting arrested?
Sometimes people you think are innocent
turn out to be guilty and vice versa.
The important thing is, how will you help me get his blood out of my couch?
Hank is innocent.
- Yeah, can you prove it? - Not yet.
You wanna know what I think?
No, I just came by for one of your inedible,
fat-free grilled cheese sandwiches.
Yes, I'd like to know what you think.
Lassiter is so emotionally invested in trying to save this town, you,
in trying to help him, have developed some of the same feelings and desires.
It's a simple case of transference.
You don't use words like transference.
Have you been secretly hanging out with mom?
We may or may not have dined together last week.
The point is, your judgment in this case is being clouded by your emotions.
Dined together?
You're David Niven now? That's your new thing?
You think Hank is innocent, go back to Old Sonora and get a proof,
but this time, don't look at the town as this magical place
that means so much to Lassiter.
Instead, look at it for what it really is.
A dump that probably isn't worth saving.
We've been looking for over an hour. I need a break.
There's gotta be a logical explanation for where they disappeared to.
I've got one for you. The next dimension.
Really, Winston Zeddmore? That's what you believe, huh?
I haven't slept in two days, Shawn. I don't know what I believe.
What? What do you see?
I'm not sure.
I think I broke my back.
And my neck. And my arm.
That's nothing.
I just bruised my coccyx.
- Say what? - You know what I mean.
I most certainly do not.
When I get home, I'm gonna have to rub oil on my coccyx.
- Oh, Gus, please. - That's disgusting.
What? A deep-tissue massage is definitely what my coccyx needs.
- Would you stop saying that word? - Coccyx?
That's what it's called, Shawn.
Dude...
this must be a part of the old mine shaft.
It's no wonder it's not on the tour. It's completely unauthentic.
Look at this. Look at these tools.
- They're all modern. - It looks like they're being used.
Let me see the light.
Dude.
What?
Are you kidding me?
That's what this whole thing is about? Copper?
That's gold, Shawn.
Oh, I guess that would make more sense.
So I was right.
Old Sonora was never being vandalized. At least not deliberately.
Clearly, I agree with you.
I just don't know why.
The theft and damage on the surface can be explained by the fact
that mining is going on underground.
The stolen wood posts are being used to prop up the shaft.
The contaminated water and the sinkholes are common side effects of shaft mining.
The foul odor in the air is from the exposed sulfur deposits.
The only thing I don't understand is,
why would a ghost be mining for gold?
It wasn't a ghost, Gus.
Then who is it?
It was the other gunfighter.
That stinky feet guy.
The name is stinky Pete.
Hold up!
Hold up! Hank.
We tested your gun.
It doesn't match the slug.
I told you it wasn't me, Binky,
but you don't want to listen no more.
Hank, I'm so sorry.
I never should have...
The murder weapon's most likely an identical twin to yours.
Well, actually, I think my gun might have been part of a set.
It was so long ago, I'd forgotten.
Do you have any idea who may have the other one?
As a matter of fact, I do.
How you doing over there?
Now I have a throbbing headache and a throbbing coccyx.
What?
Who are you really?
I'm a psychic.
And I can see everything very clearly now.
Just like Tripsy, you were on McBain's payroll.
When you went looking for safety violations,
you decided to check out the old mine shaft,
and, as dumb luck would have it, you found yourself a previously
undiscovered vein of gold.
What's more, you were the rider that we saw last night.
Pulling wood into the entrance of the mine,
which only appeared to be sealed.
'cause neither Hank nor anyone else thought to check
if the rocks were actually real.
I got to hand it to you, Pete.
It was quite a nifty operation you had going here.
Still do.
Unfortunately, McBain got what he needed
to ensure that hank would fail the upcoming safety inspection
so Old Sonora had to close down.
When McBain took ownership out of foreclosure,
it wouldn't take long for his crew
to discover your gold strike, so to slow things down
and give yourself more time to mine, well,
you went ahead and killed McBain.
I could deny it,
but then there ain't much point, is there?
There's more than a million dollars' gold in here.
Not only are you a murderer, but you're a thief.
This gold belongs to Hank, a man who's been more
than fair and generous with all of his employees,
including yourself.
Well, I guess after playing a bad guy all these years,
the line between actor and role got kind of blurred.
They say the same thing happened to Yul Brynner.
This is not good.
Dude, what are you doing?
It worked for Tim Robbins in Shawshank Redemption, Shawn.
Get busy living or get busy dying.
Gus, we don't have years to dig a tunnel.
Besides, it makes me Morgan Freeman.
That's weird.
Wait a minute.
That's water.
Dude, give me the pickaxe.
Watch yourself.
You see what I see?
Stop pushing, Shawn.
Dude, this tunnel's only big enough for one person.
Pete Dillingham!
You're under arrest for the murder of Frank McBain.
Throw your weapon down and come peacefully.
How can you tell which one's the bad guy if they're both wearing black?
I'm the good guy, you toothless hillbillies.
Though I did just shoot that man for real, so clear on out.
Well, the great news is, with all the money you'll make
from selling gold, you can fix up Old Sonora,
restore it to its former glory.
I don't know, Binky.
I've been thinking maybe it's time
this old cowboy hung up his spurs.
I guess I could take comfort in the fact that...
I've lasted this long.
Well, and that you're about to be filthy rich.
Well, that too.
I'm gonna miss this place.
Hank, you been a damn good friend to me.
You've been more than a friend.
Yeah, them are hard to come by these days.
Now if you'll excuse me, I got myself
a wayward and wild woman to ask to marry me.
What?
Look at that.
She's about to give up the world's oldest profession.
She was never a real madam, Shawn. You do know that.
Agree to disagree.
By the way, you ever call me Binky again, I'll shoot you.
Understood.
How about once more, just for old times' sake?
www.tvsubtitles.net