(to Maj.Warren)

  Heard of her?

  MAJ.WARREN

  Should I?

  JOHN RUTH

  Well she ain’t no John Wilkes Booth. But maybe you might of heard tell ’bout the price on her head.

  MAJ.WARREN

  How much?

  JOHN RUTH

  Ten thousand dollars.

  MAJ.WARREN

  Damn, what she do? Kill Lillie Langtry?

  JOHN RUTH

  Not quite. Now that ten thousand’s practically in my pocket. It’s why I ain’t too anxious to be handin’ out RIDES. Especially to professionals open for business.

  MAJ.WARREN

  Well I sure can appreciate that. Only I ain’t got no designs on ’er. One of my fella’s is worth four thousand, one’s worth three thousand, and one’s worth one. That’s damn sure good enough for me.

  JOHN RUTH

  (meaning the three dead white guys)

  Who are them fellas?

  MAJ.WARREN

  Warren Vanders, Homer Van Hootin, and Rebel Roy McCrackin.

  JOHN RUTH

  Let me see their paperwork. Like I said, molasses-like.

  Maj.Warren slowly removes the handbills from his winter coat pocket.

  John Ruth lowers his rifle from Maj.Warren’s chest, and takes the papers to study. He removes from his pocket a pair of spindly gold framed reading glasses that he applies to his face.

  O.B., up on his driver’s seat perch, yells back at them;

  O.B.

  (yelling)

  Look, I sure hate to interrupt y’all! But we gotta’ cold damn blizzard hot on our ass we tryin’ to beat to shelter!

  JOHN RUTH

  (yelling back)

  I realize that! Now shut your mouth and hold them damn horses while I think!

  The grizzled guy studies the handbills.

  Then raises both of his eyes and the brim of his hat to study the black Major still standing with his hands raised.

  John Ruth makes up his mind.

  JOHN RUTH

  Okay boy, we’ll give it a try. But you leave those pistols over yonder with the driver.

  Daisy Domergue says;

  DOMERGUE

  You ain’t really gonna’ let that nigger in here is ya’? I mean maybe up there with O.B., but not in here—

  John Ruth takes the pistol in his cuffed hand, switches it to his free hand, and brings the iron weapon down hard on the side of Daisy’s skull with a sickening CRACKING SOUND. This knocks the woman onto the floor of the stagecoach on her hands and knees. Blood trickles from her hair, and runs down the side of her face.

  John Ruth leans his big hulking frame over her on the stagecoach floor, and says with real grit;

  JOHN RUTH

  How you like the sound of them bells, bitch? Real pretty, ain’t they? You open up your trashy mouth again, I’ll knock out them front teeth for ya’. You got it?

  From the floor, Domergue says;

  DOMERGUE

  Yeah.

  Yanking her cuffed wrist hard with his arm.

  JOHN RUTH

  Let me hear you say: “I got it.”

  Domergue looks up at the brute with hate flashing in her eyes, and says;

  DOMERGUE

  I got it.

  JOHN RUTH

  You damn well better.

  After Ruth is through dealing with Domergue, he turns back to face Maj.Warren.

  MAJ.WARREN

  I’m gonna’ need some help tyin’ these fella’s up on the roof.

  JOHN RUTH

  Give O.B. fifty dollars when ya’ get to Red Rock, and he’ll help ya’.

  MAJ.WARREN

  Well, I think O.B.’s right. That storm’s got me kinda’ concerned. We get goin’ a lot faster you help too.

  JOHN RUTH

  (irritated)

  Goddamit to hell, I’m already regretting this! Now I can’t likely help ya’ tie fella’s to the roof with my wrist cuffed to hers. And my wrist is gonna’ stay cuffed to hers, and she ain’t never gonna’ leave my goddamn side, until I personally put her in the Red Rock jail! Now do you got that?

  MAJ.WARREN

  Yeah, I got it.

  Maj.Warren walks over to O.B. on his driver’s perch.

  MAJ.WARREN

  You help me tie these fellas up on the roof, I’ll make it worth your while, we get to Red Rock.

  O.B.

  I hear you makin’ eight thousand off these dead fuckers?

  MAJ.WARREN

  Yeah.

  O.B.

  I’ll help ya’ for two hundred and fifty dollars.

  MAJ.WARREN

  How ’bout a hundred and fifty dollars, and first two days we in Red Rock, I pay for all your booze. They got ’em a social club in Red Rock?

  O.B.

  Why yes they do.

  MAJ.WARREN

  I’ll stake ya’ a night there too.

  Now that’s a good deal, son.

  O.B. lights up.

  O.B.

  Shit fire, that’s a damn good deal!

  He leaps to the ground, and shakes hands with the black Major.

  O.B.

  You gotta’ deal, smoke. Let’s get to it.

  TIME CUT

  EXT—SNOW WHITE WYOMING MOUNTAIN ROAD—SNOWY DAY

  SLOW MOTION EMPTY FRAME

  We hear the slow motion sounds of the horses running and grunting through cold. Then we see the noses of the two lead horses bob into FRAME. Then with a little more effort on their part, their faces.

  SLOW MOTION HORSE HOOVES

  tear and kick up the snow as they move forward.

  We hear only the slow motion horse sounds.

  INT—STAGECOACH (MOVING)—SNOWY DAY

  MAJOR MARQUIS WARREN

  sits on one side of the stagecoach, preparing his pipe for smoking.

  JOHN RUTH & DAISY DOMERGUE

  attached at the wrists, sit beside each other on the opposite side of the wagon.

  John Ruth’s pistol is pulled and sits on his lap. Barrel lazily pointed in the direction of Domergue….…

  .…… or Maj.Warren.… if need be.

  JOHN RUTH

  prepares his pipe for smoking as well.

  JOHN RUTH

  So what happened to your horse?

  MAJ.WARREN

  He was pretty old. I done had him for a bit. When the weather took a turn for the worse, he did what he could, but it got to be too much for ’em.

  JOHN RUTH

  That’s too bad.

  MAJ.WARREN

  Yes it is. Me an’ ole’ Lash rode a lotta’ miles together. You might say he was my best friend—if I considered stupid animals friends.… which I don’t. Never the less.… I’m gonna’ miss ’em.

  John Ruth lights his pipe with a MATCH STROKE, and says;

  JOHN RUTH

  I had a horse like that once—bout twenty years ago. Called ’em Cauliflower. Use to call ’em my “beast friend”.

  MAJ.WARREN

  What happened to him?

  JOHN RUTH

  Some rattlesnakes shot ’em out from under me.

  MAJ.WARREN

  Didja’ make it right?

  The black man touches the match flame to the tobacco in the pipe bowl.

  John Ruth PUFFS some SMOKE out of the side of his walrus mustache;

  JOHN RUTH

  Oh, you know I did.

  EXT—SNOW WHITE WYOMING MOUNTAIN ROAD—SNOWY DAY

  OVERHEAD SHOT—SLOW MOTION

  The six horse pulled stagecoach with three dead frozen men now tied to the roof rides through FRAME.

  BACK TO THE STAGECOACH (MOVING)

  MAJ.WARREN

  says;

  MAJ.WARREN

  (to John Ruth)

  So who’s Daisy Domergue?

  JOHN RUTH

  A no damn good murdering bitch, that’s who.

  MAJ.WARREN

  How long you been haulin’ her?

  JOHN RUTH

  Five days. Caught her tryin’ to catch a boat to Italy.

  MAJ.WARREN

  What happened to her face?

  JOHN RUTH

  Disagreements.

  MAJ.WARREN

  I can see you ain’t got mixed emotions ’bout bringing a woman to a rope.

  JOHN RUTH

  If by woman, you mean her?

  Jerking a thumb in Domergue’s direction.

  JOHN RUTH

  (CON’T)

  No I do not have mixed emotions.

  MAJ.WARREN

  So you takin’ her into Red Rock to hang?

  JOHN RUTH

  You bet.

  MAJ.WARREN

  Gonna’ wait to watch it?

  JOHN RUTH

  You know I am. I wanna’ hear her neck snap with my own two ears.

  Domergue says wearily;

  DOMERGUE

  Enjoy yourself John. If the shoe was on the other foot, I’d laugh as you died.

  JOHN RUTH

  Now that I can believe.

  (to Maj.Warren)

  You never wait to watch ’em hang?

  MAJ.WARREN

  My bounties never hang, cause I never bring ’em in alive.

  JOHN RUTH

  Never?

  MAJ.WARREN

  Never ever. We talked about this in Chattanooga. Bringing desperate men in alive—is a good way to get yourself dead.

  JOHN RUTH

  Can’t catch me sleepin’ if I don’t close my eyes.

  MAJ.WARREN

  Yeah well, I don’t wanna’ work that hard.

  JOHN RUTH

  No one said the job was suppose to be easy.

  MAJ.WARREN

  No one said it was suppose to be that hard, neither.

  (to Domergue)

  But that, little lady, is why they call him “The Hangman”. When the handbill says DEAD OR ALIVE, the rest of us shoot ya’ in the back from up on top of a perch somewhere, bring ya’ in dead over a saddle. But when John Ruth The Hangman catches ya’, you don’t die by a bullet in the back. When the Hangman catches you… you hang.

  Domergue looks sideways at the black man across from her, and says;

  DOMERGUE

  (to Maj.Warren)

  You overrate ’em nigger. I’ll give you he got guts. But in the brains department, he like a man who took a high dive in a low well.

  Domergue LAUGHS at her own joke.…

  SUDDENLY.…

  John Ruth ELBOWS Domergue HARD IN THE FACE.

  She SCREAMS, as her hands go to her face.

  John Ruth leans closer to her and says;

  JOHN RUTH

  Now Daisy, I want us to work out a signal system of communication. When I elbow you real hard in the face… that means shut up.

  Daisy looks at Ruth, she couldn’t hate him more.

  JOHN RUTH

  You got it?

  DOMERGUE

  I got it.

  Major Warren LAUGHS.

  Daisy’s eyes flash across the wagon over to the black man.

  She couldn’t hate John Ruth more.

  That is unless he was a laughing nigger.

  Then in that case, maybe she could hate him more.

  They ride along quiet for a bit, when John Ruth asks Maj.Warren;

  JOHN RUTH

  (to Maj.Warren)

  I know we only met each other once before. And I don’t mean to unduly imply intimacy. But-a…… do you still got it?

  Maj.Warren knowing perfectly well what the old dog is referring to;

  MAJ.WARREN

  Do I still got, what?

  JOHN RUTH

  … the Lincoln letter?

  MAJ.WARREN

  Of course.

  JOHN RUTH

  Do you got it on you?

  Maj.Warren nods his hat brim, yes.

  JOHN RUTH

  Where?

  Maj.Warren takes two fingers and points at his heart.

  MAJ.WARREN

  Right here.

  JOHN RUTH

  Look, I know you gotta’ be real careful with it and all. I can imagine you probably don’t want to take it in an’out of the envelope all that often. But if you wouldn’t mind, I’d sure appreciate seein’ it again.

  MAJ.WARREN

  Well, like you said, I don’t like taking it in an’out of the envelope that often. However seein’ as you’re saving my life an’ all, I suppose I could let you read it again.

  John Ruth breaks into a big grin.

  Maj.Warren carefully takes out an envelope from his inside jacket pocket.

  John Ruth watches the envelope.…

  Maj.Warren ever so carefully removes the letter inside the envelope..…

  John Ruth puts on his spindly reading glasses.

  .… then carefully opens up the letter from its folded position…

  … then hands the open letter to John Ruth.

  Daisy Domergue has no idea what’s up with this letter.

  JOHN RUTH READS

  the letter. Moving his lips along with the words, but not saying them out loud.

  MAJ.WARREN WATCHES

  him read.

  John Ruth looks up from the letter, to Maj.Warren sitting across from him.

  JOHN RUTH

  (reading from the letter)

  “Ole’ Mary Todd’s callin’, so I guess it must be time for bed”

  ..… Ole’ Mary Todd..…

  (to Maj.Warren)

  That gets me.

  MAJ.WARREN

  That gets me too.

  John Ruth turns to Domergue, and holds out the letter in front of her.

  JOHN RUTH

  You know what this is, tramp? It’s a letter from Lincoln. It’s a letter from Lincoln to him.

  (pointing at Maj.Warren)

  They shared a correspondence during the war. They was pen pals. This is just one of the letters.

  Daisy Domergue looks over at the letter with interest.…

  THEN.…

  HOCKS UP A LOOGIE

  and SPITS it on the letter with a BIG SPLAT!

  This shocks both Maj.Warren and John Ruth.

  MAJ.WARREN SLAMS his FIST into the right side of DOMERGUE’S FACE… so hard… he ends up punching her into the stagecoach door with such force… IT FLIES OPEN… and DOMERGUE TUMBLES OUT of the six horse pulled vehicle… the handcuff chain taking JOHN RUTH WITH HER… as well as the Lincoln letter… and John Ruth’s rifle.

  EXT—STAGECOACH ROAD—SNOWY DAY

  Daisy Domergue and John Ruth go flying out of the speeding wagon, tumbling and somersaulting in the snow.

  O.B. pulls up on the reins yelling at the ponies, bringing the fast steeds to a slushy stop.

  John Ruth lies in the snow, still chained to the dazed Domergue, holding his arm in pain.

  JOHN RUTH

  (cursing at the cold)

  … of all the stupid—like to rip my goddamn arm off!

  Maj.Warren climbs out of the stopped vehicle.

  John Ruth takes out a SMALL KEY, and for the first time in the story, UNLOCKS the handcuffs that tie him to his female prisoner.

  For the moment… both John Ruth and Daisy Domergue are free.

  He doesn’t want to unchain Domergue, but his arm hurts like the dickens, and he has to walk it off.

  Daisy Domergue spits some blood from her mouth into the snow. She touches her freed wrist. She watches John Ruth walk off the pain in his shoulder. “Awww, he hurt his arm, ain’t that too bad”, she thinks to herself.

  Maj.Warren looks for his Lincoln letter.

  John Ruth yells at the Union Officer;

  JOHN RUTH

  I didn’t drag her stinkin’ ass up this goddamn mountain, just for you to break her neck on the outskirts of town!

  MAJ.WARREN

  You the one handed her my goddamn letter. I didn’t give it to her, I gave it to you!

  JOHN RUTH

  Okay, it’s both of our faults.

  Maj.Warren gives him a look. Then goes back to looking for his special presidential correspondence.

  John Ruth’s arm feels a little better. He picks up the fallen rifle and approaches Domergue.

  With bloody teeth Domergue looks up at Ruth and says;

  DOMERGUE

  That nigger like to bust my jaw.

  JOHN RUTH

  You ruin that letter of his, that nigger’s gonna’ stomp your ass to death. And when he do, I’m gonna’ sit back on that wagon wheel watch and laugh.

  Maj.Warren finds the letter.

  It’s worse for the wear, but still intact.

  John Ruth calls to him;

  JOHN RUTH

  How is it?

  MAJ.WARREN

  She didn’t help it none. But it’s alright.

  Maj.Warren puts the Lincoln letter back in its envelope, then puts the envelope back in the pocket of his winter jacket.

  Then the colored Union Officer scoops up a handful of snow, and crafts a snowball. He looks at Domergue.

  She looks at him.

  DOMERGUE

  Is that the way niggers treat their ladies?

  MAJ.WARREN

  You ain’t no lady.

  Maj.Warren throws the snowball in her face, and trods off.

  John Ruth looks down at her.

  JOHN RUTH

  You’re about one wise word from being tied up on the roof with them other fella’s. Now pick your trash ass up, and haul it back in that coach. Open your mouth again, and I’ll feed it a knuckle sandwich.

  O.B. the Stagecoach Driver, calls from OFF SCREEN;