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[upon confronting a third thug on his way to the governor's office]
Sunset Carson:
This is getting monotonous!
Inspector Burke:
Sunset Carson? They should have named you Wildcat Carson!
[examining his pants, which have had a hole burned in the seat]
Dead Eye:
Guess I burnt my britches behind me.
Dead Eye:
Gosh, we're real saddlemates now!
Sunset Carson:
Saddlemates?
Dead Eye:
You know, pals, er, buddies, er, ah...
Sunset Carson:
You mean saddlemates?
Dead Eye:
Yeah! That's it.
Sunset Carson:
On one condition. You have to change that name of yours. Now let's see, ah, Killer? Ripper? Slugger? Well, how about Dead Eye?
Dead Eye:
Sounds awful frightenin' - but awful virile!
Sunset Carson:
OK, Dead Eye it is.
Sunset Carson:
Look, Dead Eye, this is my chance to talk to Loder. Bring your potatoes around to the front of the barn and keep watch. If anyone comes, whistle.
Dead Eye:
What do I whistle?
Sunset Carson:
Anything.
Dead Eye:
I don't know it.
Sunset Carson:
You don't know what?
Dead Eye:
"Anything."
Sunset Carson:
[exasperated] That, I know.
Dead Eye:
Oh, you know it? How's it go?复制复制成功复制失败，请手动复制
