Dr. King Schultz

Actually, I was thinking of that poor devil you fed to the dogs today, D'Artagnan. And I was wondering what Dumas would make of all this.

Alexander Dumas. He wrote "The Three Musketeers." I figured you must be an admirer. You named your slave after his novel's lead character. If Alexander Dumas had been there today, I wonder what he would have made of it?

Well, Brünnhilde was a princess. She was a daughter of Wotan, god of all gods. Anyways, Her father is really mad at her.

I can't exactly remember. She disobeys him in some way. So he puts her on top of the mountain.

It's a German legend, there's always going to be a mountain in there somewhere. And he puts a fire-breathing dragon there to guard the mountain. And he surrounds her in a circle of hellfire. And there, Brünnhilde shall remain. Unless a hero arises brave enough to save her.

Quiet spectacularly so. He scales the mountain, because he's not afraid of it. He slays the dragon, because he's not afraid of him. And he walks through hellfire... because Brünnhilde's worth it.

Mister Candie, normally I would say "Auf wiedersehen," but since what "auf wiedersehen" actually means is "'till I see you again", and since I never wish to see you again, to you, sir, I say goodbye!

Let me get this straight: Your slave wife speaks German and her name is Broomhilda von Schaft?

My name is Dr. King Schultz, and like yourself, Marshall, I am a servant of the court. The man lying dead in the dirt, who the good people of Daughtrey saw fit to elect as their sheriff, who went by the name of Bill Sharp, is actually a wanted outlaw by the name of Willard Peck, with a price on his head of 200 dollars. Now, that's 200 dollars, dead or alive.

I'm aware this is probably disconcerting news. But I'm willing to wager this man was elected sheriff sometime in the last two years. I know this because three years ago, he was rustling cattle from the B.C. Corrigan Cattle Company of Lubbock, Texas. Now, this is a warrant, made out by circuit court Judge Henry Allen Laudermilk of Austin Texas. You're encouraged to wire him. He'll back up who I am, and who your dear departed sheriff was. In other words Marshall... you owe me 200 dollars.

Our mutual friend has a flair for the dramatic.

I must admit, I'm at a bit of a quandary when it comes to you. On one hand, I despise slavery. On the other hand, I need your help. If you're not in a position to refuse, all the better. So, for the time being, I'm gonna make this slavery malarkey work to my benefit. Still, having said that, I feel guilty...

So, I would like the two of us to enter into an agreement.

I'm looking for the Brittle brothers.

However, at this endeavor, I'm at a slight disadvantage insofar as I don't know what they look like.

But you do. Don't ya?

Good. So here's my agreement: You travel with me until we find them...

I hear at least two of them are overseeing up in Gatlinburg, but I don't know where. That means we visit every plantation in Gatlinburg till we find 'em. And when we find them, you point them out, and I kill them.

You do that, I agree to give you your freedom; $25 per Brittle brother.

Wunderbar, Marshall! I have relieved myself of all weapons, and just as you have instructed, I am ready to step outside, with my hands raised above my head. I trust, as a representative of the criminal justice system of The United States of America, I shan't be shot down in the street, by either you or your deputies, before I've had my day in court.

Yes, that's exactly what I mean! Do I have your word as a lawman, not to shoot me down like a dog in the street?

Fair enough Marshall, here we come!

They're a little tense out there. So don't make any quick movements, and let me do the talking.

Yes indeed we are. Marshall Tatum, may I address you and your deputies, and apparently the entire town of Daughtrey, as to the incident that just occurred?

Now, as to you poor devils. So as I see it, when it comes to the subject of what to do next, you gentlemen have two choices. One: once I'm gone, you could lift that beast off the remaining Speck, then carry him to the nearest town; which would be at least 37 miles back the way you came. Or two: you could unshackle yourselves, take that rifle, put a bullet in his head, bury the two of them deep, and then make your way to a more enlightened area of this country. The choice is yours.

Oh! And on the off chance there are any astronomy aficionados amongst you, the North Star is that one. Tata!

Everybody calm down, we mean no one else any harm!

I am Dr. King Schultz, a legal representative of the criminal justice system of the United States of America. The man to my left is Django Freeman, he's my deputy. In my pocket is a warrant signed by circuit court judge Henry Allen Laudermilk of Austin, Texas, for the arrest and capture, dead or alive, of John Brittle, Ellis Brittle, and Roger Brittle...

You know them by the name "Shaffer," but the butchers real names were Brittle. These are wanted men; the law wants them for murder. I reiterate, this warrant states "dead or alive." When Django and myself executed these men on sight, we were operating within our legal boundaries. Now, I realize passions are high, but I must warn you, the penalty for taking deadly force against a officer of the court in the performance of his duty is, you will be hung by the neck until you are dead.

Do you know what they're going to call you? The "Fastest Gun in the South".

That is who Smitty Bacall is. If Smitty Bacall wanted to start a farm at 22, they would never have printed that.

But Smitty Bacall wanted to rob stagecoaches, and he didn't mind killing people to do it. Do you want to save your wife by doing what I do? This is what I do. I kill people and sell their corpses for cash. This corpse is worth seven thousand dollars. Now, quit your pussyfooting and shoot him.

Despite that cart, I haven't practiced dentistry in five years. But these days, I practice a new profession…

Bounty hunter.

Do you know what a bounty hunter is?

Well, the way the slave trade deals in human lives for cash, a bounty hunter deals in corpses.

Prost!

The state places a bounty on a man's head. I track that man, I find that man, I kill that man.

After I've killed him, I transport that man's corpse back to the authorities. Sometimes that's easier said than done. I show that corpse to the authorities, proving yes, indeed, I truly have killed him, at which point the authorities pay me the bounty. So, like slavery, it's a flesh for cash business.

Well frankly, I've never given anybody their freedom before. And now that I have, I feel vaguely responsible for you. Plus, when a German meets a real life Sigfried, that's kind of a big deal. As a German, I'm obliged to help you on your quest to rescue your beloved Broomhilda.

So, say a man wants to buy a horse - *needs* to buy a horse. He walks up to the farmer's farm. He knocks on the farmer's door and asks the farmer to buy his horse. And you know what the farmer says? The farmer says: no.

Fair enough. But, now you're a horse thief and they hang horse thieves. Not to mention the horse goes back to his original owner because the horse is still his property. We need her and we need a bill of sale.

May I offer an alternative plan of action?

Don't get so carried away with your retribution. You'll lose sight of why we're here.

Yes, I do! Stop antagonizing Candie. You're going to blow this whole charade or, more than likely, get us both killed. And I, for one, don't intend to die in Chi-cka-saw County, Mississippi, USA.

Mr. Speck, I'm afraid I'll require a bill of sale. Do you have one?