Allow me to properly introduce myself.
I'm Oswaldo Mobray, the hangman in these parts.
- La-di-da. - Ah.
Looks like I brought you a customer.
Yeah, so it would appear.
You ever spent two days or more
locked up with one of your customers before?
- I can't say I have. - Don't talk to my prisoner.
I talk to my prisoner, that's it.
- You got it? - I got it.
Jolly good.
You got anything in here besides coffee
that can help warm us up?
Well, the bar is open.
Follow moi.
Line, O.B.!
Oh, whoa.
Oh.
Whoa.
Hey.
Whoa, Ace, whoa.
You're all right. You're all right.
Come on, goddamn it. I'm cold!
I'll feed and water the horses.
You go inside and get some hot coffee.
Got some stew cooking.
Should be done soon.
Now, look.
No matter how bad this blizzard gets,
we still got to feed these horses
and take a squat from time to time.
So me and Chris better lay out a line
from the stable to the front door
and from the front door to the shithouse.
Okay?
Good idea.
Come on, Chris.
I'll give you a hand.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Go inside. Get warm.
You're doin' stable work in a goddamn blizzard.
I offer to help, you say no?
You're right, amigo.
Muchas gracias.
All right. Follow me.
We're gonna drop one every ten paces,
from here to the door. Yeah!
All right!
Now, you're wanted for murder.
For the sake of my analogy,
let's just assume that you did it.
Now, John Ruth wants to take you back to Red Rock
to stand trial for murder.
And if you're found guilty,
the people of Red Rock will hang you in the town square.
And, as the hangman, I will perform the execution.
And if all those things end up taking place,
that's what civilized society calls justice.
However,
if the relatives and the loved ones
of the person you murdered
were outside that door right now,
and after busting down that door,
they drug you out into the snow and hung you up by the neck,
that would be frontier justice.
Now, the good part about frontier justice
is it's very thirst-quenching.
The bad part is it's apt to be wrong as right.
Well, not in your case.
In your case, you'd have it coming.
But other people, maybe not so much.
But ultimately, what's the real difference
between the two?
The real difference is me.
The hangman.
To me, it doesn't matter what you did.
When I hang you, I'll get no satisfaction from your death.
It's my job.
I hang you in Red Rock.
I move on to the next town.
I hang someone else there.
The man who pulls the lever that breaks your neck
will be a dispassionate man.
And that dispassion is the very essence of justice.
For justice delivered without dispassion
is always in danger of not being justice.
How about that cowboy fella?
What's he writing in that book?
His diary, I suppose.
- What's his story? - Don't know.
- He doesn't say much. - What do you mean he doesn't say much?
You rode up that whole mountain together, didn't you?
- And he didn't say much. - What's his name?
- I don't know. - He never said his name?
I don't think so.
No offense, cowboy fella.
Just gettin' your attention.
Yeah, well...
you got it.
What you writin', friend?
Only thing I'm qualified to write about.
What's that?
My life story.
You're writing your life story?
You bet I am.
Am I in it?
You just entered.
Well, you like writing stories so much,
why don't you tell me the story that brings you here?
Who's asking?
I am. John Ruth.
I'm bringing in this one to Red Rock to hang.
And ain't no way I'm spending a couple of nights
under a roof with somebody I don't know who they are,
and I don't know who you are.
So, who are you?
Joe Gage.
- What? - That's my name.
Joe Gage.
Okay, Joe Gage.
Why you going to Red Rock?
I ain't, I ain't, I ain't going to Red Rock.
Where you going?
About nine miles outside of Red Rock.
What's there?
My mother.
Your mother?
Listen, I'm just a cowpuncher.
I just, uh, got back from a long drive, and...
and I wasn't just an ass in a saddle this time.
I was a partner.
First time in my life I made a pretty penny.
And, uh, figured I'd come home
and spend time with my mother for Christmas.
Now, that's funny.
'Cause you don't look like
the coming-home-for-Christmas type.
Yeah, well,
you know, looks can be deceiving.
Because I definitely am a...
coming-home-for-Christmas- to-spend-time-with-Mother type.
Christmas with Mother, I mean, uh,
it's a wonderful thing.
Now, is that, uh,
good enough for you, John Ruth?
For now.
You steer clear of my prisoner.
Hello, old-timer.
General.
You, sir, are a hyena.
I have no wish to speak to you.
I've been called worse.
Fair enough, General.
Sorry to bother you.
Hey!
- You gotta kick it open! - Gotta kick it open!
- What?! - Kick it open!
- That latch, you gotta kick it open! - You gotta kick it open!
Jesus Christ!
- Close it! - Close it!
- Close the door! - What?!
- Close it! - The goddamn door!
It doesn't have a latch! Close it!
It's already cold enough in here!
Doesn't have a latch.
- You gotta hammer up a board. - You gotta nail it shut!
The hammer and nails by the door.
There's a hammer and nails right there!
Ah, God!
- Hold this here, Chris. - Here! Here.
- Watch your fingers. - Yeah.
- Really nail it in! - Yeah.
You need two pieces of wood.
You got to hammer another one.
One ain't good enough!
It's gonna blow right open!
Now, goddamn it!
Gonna open if you don't ham...!
- Shut up! - Ah, got it!
Son of a bitch!
Jesus Christ.
That's door's a whore.
Oh.
I get it. "Haberdashery."
That was a joke.
How's the coffee?
Now? Pretty good, if I do say so myself.
Thank you.
Ooh!
Ha! Navajo!
Guess who he is.
Buffalo Bill?
Hardly.
No. I'm Oswaldo Mobray. I'm the...
He's the hangman of Red Rock.
Oh, you are?
- Yes, I am. - Well!
- Uh, good to meet you, uh, - Yeah.
- Mr...? - Uh, Mobray.
- Mobray. - Yeah.
I'm Chris Mannix.
The new sheriff in Red Rock.
- Really? - Pfft, horseshit!
Pay no attention to him.
Horseshit!
Fella warmin' himself by that potbelly stove
is a hell of a driver named O.B. - Ah.
That's the only thing you've said that's the truth.
You comin' into Red Rock to hang Lance Lawson?
- Precisely. - Do you have the execution orders on you?
- In my bag. - May I see 'em?
Of course.
Who's, uh, who's Lance Lawson?
He's a fella been sittin' in the Red Rock jail
about a month now.
He's the fella who shot the fella
who was sheriff 'fore me.
Precisely.
Thank you.
What did she mean when she said,
"The bounty hunter's nigger friend in the stable"?
He's got a nigger bounty hunter friend in the stable.
But all that just to guard her?
Uh, I don't think that was the original idea, but...
- that's the idea now. - Oh. Mm.
Want a little snake bite in your coffee?
Yeah.
Five of you?
Well, well, well, looks like Minnie's Haberdashery
is about to get cozy for the next few days.
Yes, it does.
- Here. - Ah. Ah.
Are you the chap with the Lincoln letter?
The Lincoln what?
Yes. The letter from Abraham Lincoln.
President Abraham Lincoln?
Yes. Weren't you pen pals?
With the president?
Well, I'm sorry, I heard that somebody in your party
had a letter from Abraham Lincoln.
I assumed it was you.
Not him!
The black fella in the stable.
The nigger...
in the stable has a letter from Abraham Lincoln?
Yeah.
The nigger in the stable has a letter from Abraham Lincoln?
What'd you say your name was again?
- Bob. - Warren.
Minnie and Sweet Dave in there?
Minnie and Sweet Dave went to visit her mother
on the north side of the mountain.
- What? - Yeah.
Minnie ain't here?
Yes, they're visiting her mother.
- Her mother? - Yes.
Hmm.
Never knew Minnie had a mother.
Well, everybody's got a mother.
Yeah, I suppose.
And she left you in charge?
Si.
That sure don't sound like Minnie.
Are you calling me a liar?
Well, not yet I ain't.
Just sounds peculiar is all.
What sounds peculiar?
Well, first off, Minnie never struck me
as the sentimental type.
And secondly, I can't imagine Sweet Dave lifting his fat ass
out his chair long enough to fetch well water
unless Minnie was laying a frying pan upside his head,
let alone take a trip to the north side.
Well, that sounds a whole lot
like you're calling me a liar, mi negro amigo.
Yeah, it do sound a whole lot like that, don't it?
But I still ain't done it yet.
Minnie still serve food?
- Do you consider stew food? - Yes.
Then we serve food.
She still stinking up the place with Old Quail pipe tobacco?
Minnie doesn't smoke a pipe.
She rolls her own.
Red Apple Tobacco.
But, mi negro amigo, I think you already know this.
Yeah, I do, Señor Bob.
Just seeing if you do.
Come on!
Fill 'er up, O.B.
Yeah.
Goddamn it.
Thank you.
Well, cut my legs off and call me Shorty.
Is that General Sanford Smithers I see?
You got a good eye, son.
Ha-ha! Well, I'll be double-dog damned!
General Sandy "Don't Give a Damn" Smithers?
Captain Chris Mannix, Mannix's Marauders.
Erskine's boy?
Yes, sir.
Uh... may I sit down, sir?
Well, according to the Yankees, it's a free country.
General Sandy Smithers. Ha-ha!
Boy...
oh, boy, did my daddy talk about you!
I heard you gave those Blue Bellies sweet hell.
Me and my boys did our part.
Just like Erskine and his boys did their part.
Hell yeah, we did.
Yankee sons of bitches.
I never knew your father, son.
But I always respected his resolve.
Well, thank you for saying that, General.
Your respect would have meant the world to him.
Can I get you some coffee?
That'd be nice.
Well, how about a blanket?
That'd be even nicer.
Hell, you know what? You can have mine.
Here we go, General.
Ha-ha! So what brings you out Wyoming way, sir?
If you don't mind my askin'.
My boy.
- Oh, you got a boy that lives in Red Rock? - My son.
Chester Charles Smithers.
He died out here a few years back.
Oh, forgive me, sir.
There's no forgiveness needed, son.
Like I said, it was a few years back.
It was after he'd served his service.
He came out here to the hills of Wyoming...
to make his fortune.
Never to be heard from again.
I bought him a symbolic plot...
in the Red Rock cemetery.
And I'm here to advise a stone maker on his headstone.
Was he a goner for sure?
No chance he could be livin' the cold life
out in the woods?
It's a rough life, but folks can learn it.
If he'd have done what he came out here to do,
he'd have come home.
Where's home?
Georgia.
Yeah.
Well, what say we have us a drink?
To Chester Charles Smithers.
A drink to your service to the South, sir.
And a drink to the great state of Georgia.
Well, that's a drink I'd enjoy.
From Erskine Mannix's boy
to my boy.
And that's a drink I'd like to drink.
Excuse me, General.
What's to drink, John Ruth?
Tequila and mescal.
- And brandy. - Where's the brandy?
Over there.
Who's he?
Another passenger.
What's his name?
Joe Gage.
What's he writing in that book?
His life story.
Joe Gage, is it?
It is.
Pleased to meet you.
I'm Chris Mannix, the new sheriff of Red Rock.
You, too, Chris.
Can me and my new friend have some of your brandy, Joe?
Help yourself, Chris.
Thanks a bunch, Joe.
You're welcome, Chris.
General.
This is a drink to Chester Charles Smithers!
This is a drink
to one man's commitment to a cause.
And this is to the red in Georgia clay!
Cheers.
Mmm. Ah.
General Sandy Smithers.
It's a small damn world.
I don't know about the world,
but this goddamn mountain sure seems pretty fucking small.
Hold it. Close it, close it!
You have to hold it closed while I nail it shut.
Well, who's the idiot broke the damn door?
Oh, j-j-j...
just fucking hold it closed!
Orale, cabrón!
Hold it closed.
Okay.
One more.
Keep holding, keep holding,
mi negro amigo.
We need two pieces of wood.
Orale, cabrón! All right.
There you go, motherfucker!
Lot of hats, Señor Bob.
Huh?
Considering Minnie's "no hats indoors" policy,
which, if I remember correctly,
was one of them Bar of Iron rules.
Kind of rule she'd want kept up in her absence.
You seem to have a laissez-faire attitude
when it come to the hats.
I'm guilty.
I have a laissez-faire attitude about the hats.
How about we forget about the hats today
considering there is a blizzard going on and on?
We'll make tomorrow "No Hat Day"!
- A large black dog. - ♪ Now take my tip ♪
♪ Before you ship to join ♪
- His name was Henry, I believe. - ♪ The iron gang ♪
- Labrador. - ♪ Don't be too gay ♪
♪ In Botany Bay ♪
♪ Or else you'll surely hang ♪
♪ Or else you'll hang, you'll hang, said he... ♪
You know, my daddy...
I-I said that my-my daddy
- always said that Davis... - A plum tree.
...was a courageous man,
but he should've put the capital
in Montgomery and not Richmond.
Yes, sir. I agree with that.
The army in northern Virginia would've been used
in a very different way. I said the army
of north Virginia would've been used in a very different way!
♪ They'll flog the poaching out of you ♪
♪ Out there in Botany Bay. ♪
Shut up!
O.B.
Got a proposition for you.
Well... what do you propose?
You asked for $250 the first time, right?
Yeah.
Well, how about $350?
Well, how about it?
Help me take them fellas down off the roof,
stash them in snow.
When the snow melts, tie them back on.
The same deal?
About the booze and them ladies in Red Rock?
Mm-hmm.
You got yourself a deal, smoke.
Oh, Major Warren, this is, uh...
Oswaldo Mobray, Major.
At your service.
Oh-ho. You're the executioner in these parts.
Yeah, precisely.
Well, fella over at the bar brought you a customer.
So it would appear.
Yeah, well, my three felons,
they won't be needing your services.
All right.
Do you know that nigger, sir?
I don't know that nigger.
But I know he's a nigger, and that's all I need to know.
Well, that nigger just ain't any nigger.
That nigger, he...
General Sanford Smithers?
Battle of Baton Rouge?
Inform the nigger
in the cavalry officer's uniform
that I had a division of Confederates
under my command...
in Baton Rouge.
Major Nigger, General Smithers wishes me to inform you...
I heard him, hillbilly.
Inform this old cracker that I was in Baton Rouge also.
On the other side.
Oh, that's interesting.
Uh, General Smithers,
he said that he was also in Baton Rouge on the other si...
Captain Mannix,
tell the nigger
that I don't acknowledge niggers
in Northern uniforms.
You captured a whole colored command
that day...
but not one colored trooper made it to a camp, did they?
We didn't have the time or the food
nor the inclination to care for Northern horses,
and least of all...
Northern niggers!
So we shot 'em where they stood!
Gentlemen!
Gentlemen.
I know Americans aren't apt
to let a little thing like unconditional surrender
get in the way of a good war.
But I strongly suggest we don't restage
the Battle of Baton Rouge
during a blizzard in Minnie's Haberdashery.
Now... my Nubian friend...
while I realize passions are high,
that was a while ago.
And if you shoot this unarmed old man,
I guarantee I will hang you by the neck
until you are dead once we arrive in Red Rock.
I damn well guarantee that, too.
Yeah, Warren,
that's the problem with old men.
You can kick 'em down the stairs
and say it's a accident, but you can't just shoot 'em.
Uh, gentlemen... since we may be
trapped here,
close together-like, for a few days,
may I suggest a possible solution?
We divide Minnie's in half.
The Northern side and the Southern side.
With the dinner table...
operating as a neutral territory.
We could say that the fireplace side of the room
acts as a... a symbolic representative of...
Georgia.
While the bar...
represents...
...Philadelphia!
Long as the bar's Philadelphia...
I agree.
Are you done yet?
The hell is this?
It's a chicken.
No, it's not.
It's a half-plucked chicken.
A half-plucked chicken is bad luck,
and we don't need bad luck in a blizzard.
Now, what's it doing here?
I was plucking it when your stage arrived.
- Stopped to take care of the passengers, huh? - Yeah.
Well, you're not taking care of passengers now.
I thought better to deal with the stew.
Pluck the chicken.
Oh, that's Major Marquis,
the nigger that burnt down Wellenbeck prison camp.
Killed 47 rebs and 37 Yankees.
Now, his own side drummed his black ass out of the cavalry
with a yellow stripe down his back.
And the Confederacy, General,
if you will remember,
put a reward on that nigger's head. $30,000!
And then it dropped down to eight.
Last days of the war, it was five.
Now, a lot of fellas went looking to collect that reward,
and a lot of niggers got their head chopped off.
But nobody ever did get them the right nigger head.
That nigger...
is the nigger with the $5,000 reward on his head?!
Well, there ain't no reward no more.
But during the war, yeah.
That's that nigger.
That damn door is a dirty whore.
I just made some more coffee.
Grab some cups and get some in ya.
We still got that deal we talked about in the wagon?
- Thank you. - I help you protect your $8,000,
you help me protect my ten? Yeah, I suppose.
One of them fellas is not what he says he is.
What is he?
In cahoots with this one, that's what he is.
One of them, maybe even two of them,
is here to see Domergue goes free.
To accomplish that goal, they'll kill everybody in here.
They got 'em a couple of days,
so all they got to do is sit tight
and wait for a window of opportunity.
And that's when they strike.
Huh, bitch?
If you say so, John.
Are you sure you ain't just being paranoid?
Our best bet is this duplicitous fella
ain't as cool a customer as Daisy here.
He won't have the leather patience it takes
to just sit here and... wait.
Waiting for an opportunity
and knowing it's the right one isn't so easy.
He can't handle it, he'll stop waitin'.
Try and create his opportunity,
and that's when Mr. Jumpy reveals himself.
Now, what you got to say about all this?
What do I got to say?
About John Ruth's ravings?
He's absolutely right.
Me and one of them fellas is in cahoots.
We're just waiting for everybody to go to sleep.
That's when we're gonna kill y'all.
Okay, everybody.
Hear this.
This here is Daisy Domergue.
She's wanted dead or alive for murder.
$10,000.
That money's mine, boys.
Don't want to share it, and I ain't gonna lose it.
When that sun comes out,
I'm taking this woman into Red Rock to hang.
Now...
...is there anybody here
committed to stopping me from doing that?
Really?
Nobody got a problem with this?
Well...
I guess that's very fortunate for me.
However...
I hope you all understand
I can't just take your word.
Circumstances force me to...
take...
precautions.
When you say...
"precautions"...
why do I feel that you mean me?
Because I'm gonna take your gun, son.
You are?
Yes, I am.
- Nothing personal. - Just mine?
Hangman's got himself a gun, too.
I'll be dealing with his gun after I deal with yours.
I feel kind of...
naked without it.
Oh, I still got mine.
I'll protect you.
A bastard's work is never done.
Huh, John Ruth?
That's right, Joe Gage.
- Now, give me the gun. - If you want it...
...you're gonna have to come and take...
Calm down.
Take your hand away from your gun.
Blink if you're calm.
He blink?
He blinked.
Blink if you're gonna remain calm.
He blinked.
Take his pistol.
I'm real sorry about this, son.
Like I said...
nothing personal, just...
a precaution.
Pretty sneaky.
Afraid the same applies to you, too,
Mr... Mobray.
Ah, precautions must be taken
because life is too sweet to lose.
Hand me that little bucket.
O.B.
Go to the outhouse.
Take this bucket and... dump it down the shithole.
Why do I got to go outside?
Well, your jacket's already on, and I sorta kinda trust you.
When we get to Red Rock,
I'll replace the weapons you lost.
That's the best I can do.
When he leaves, you and you...
nail the door behind him.
Get to it!
You, back to the bar.
You, back to the bed.
You were doing good the way you were, lying down.
So, lie down!
Okay, Mr. Mex,
where's your guns?
I don't have a gun.
What's that?
Oh, well...
there is that.
Take it off the wall and put it on that table.
Open your coat.
Wide open.
Sit your ass down on that bench.
So...
any more guns I don't know about?
Now, later on, I'm gonna remember asking this question
and I'm gonna remember your answer, so one more time.
Any more guns I don't know about?
I just want to make an announcement.
What announcement?
Stew is on.