garcianacho/Scripts · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 1 3.04k
Oh.
Jill, please, it's alright. Nothing happened.
I want to go home.
Okay, let's go home, then.
Don't mind if I do.
LaRiviere's having a hell of a time in there. Master of fucking ceremonies.
Where's that gun you were bragging on today?
No brag. Just fact.
Got you for 450, 500 bucks?
I thought I told you to move that truck!
Relax, Chief. We're leaving. You wanna toke?
You gotta be more careful about that shit. Gordon or one of those guys sees you smoking that wacky tabacky around me they'll expect me to bust you. And I'll be outta a job.
Some job. Here, have a hit. Don't be such a hardass. I know you got problems, but everybody's got problems.
Not here.
Got a job first thing in the morning, first day of season. Saturday I'll hunt for myself. Twombley something. Er
Evan. He's a muckymuck union official from Massachusetts. You're lucky.
Don't know about lucky. The guy's a fullblown asshole. Pay's good, though. $100 a day. I got to guarantee a kill, of course. Which I can do. There's some monster bucks hiding out up there.
How'd you get the job?
Gordon, he's always got some angle working. He wants to keep Twombley happy, I'm his boy.
Like you and Gordon?
Right. The sonofabitch couldn't get along without me.
Yeah, he'd go broke tomorrow if you quit him.
Right!
Bastard's got his high beams on.
Shit.
Aw, shit, she's here to get Jill. Me and Jill had a little argument. Jack, I got to get back, get back to town. Move this thing, will you? See if you can get back to the Town Hall before they get there, okay?
Piece of fucking cake.
Where'd Twombley get shot?
In the chest.
No, I mean whereabouts.
A half mile in, along the old lumber road.
You bring him up yourself? That's a steep climb.
The ambulance guys lugged him up.
You stayed away?
Yeah.
Where'd you get the blood?
What blood?
On your sleeve.
Musta... How'd I know? What're you doing, playing cop?
I gotta make a report to Fish and Game. I was just wondering, that's all. What'd he do, to shoot himself, I mean?
Who the fuck knows? Musta slipped or something. I just heard the gun go off.
I never seen a man shot before. Not even in the service. Must be something.
Well, I didn't actually see him do it. Like I said.
Sure you did.
What?
Saw him do it?
What the fuck you telling me, Wade? I never seen the guy get shot, I told you that.
You musta seen him get shot. I know you did.
Let's get the fuck outta here. You're not making any sense, man.
There's your old twentygauge, and that there's the new Browning you was showing me last night. This must be Twombley's gun. Brand new. Very fancy tooling. Probably fired one time. It's a beautiful piece of work. But what the hell, Jack, I guess you deserve it. Right's right.
Yeah.
Twombley sure as hell won't be shooting it again.
He sure as hell won't.
I'm fucking out of here.
Lawford?
Out of this fucking job. This job sucks. Working outside in the winter sucks.
Open the door, will ya?
Why don't you quit now, you want out so bad?
Open the door. We're late.
I mean it you got enough money now. Head out for California. Surf's up, Jack, and you're digging wells in the snow.
What do you mean I got money? I'm as broke as you.
It's not enough snow, not for tracking the bastards. No advantage there, kid.
Don't worry, Mr. Twombley, I know where those suckers are. Rain or shine, snow or no snow. I know deer. We'll kill us a buck today. Guaranteed. Before ten.
Guaranteed, eh?
Yep. Right about now the does are holing up in the brush piles. The bucks are right behind them and we're right behind the bucks. This gun gets fired before ten o'clock. Whether it kills a deer or not is more less up to you. I'll put you inside 30, 35 yards of a buck the first four hours of the season. That's what you're paying me for, ain't it?
Damn straight!
Done much shooting with that rifle yet?
Tell you what. You get me close to a big buck by ten, kid, there's another hundred bucks in it.
If you get it?
Yeah.
You might not kill it.
You think so.
You might gutshoot it or cripple it for somebody else to find and tag. Can't guarantee that won't happen, especially with a new gun. I may have to shoot it.
You take care of your end, kid, I'll take care of mine.
Mmm.
You understand what I'm saying? I want a deer, a dead one, not a cripple or whatthefuck.
I get it. No sweat. You'll get yourself a deer and you'll get him dead. And you'll have him by coffee time.
And you'll get your extra hundred bucks.
Wonderful!
I'm okay.
Follow close. We'll cross the next meadow.
I used to play ball.
Yeah?
Drafted by the Red Sox.
You played for the Sox?
Double A. New Britain.
Oh.
Pitcher. "Best ballplayer to come out of New Hampshire since Carlton Fisk."
Really.
They said.
Hmm.
The only difference between me and that Clemens on TV is luck, shit luck.
What happened?
Ruined my arm. Brought me along too fast. Why'd it have to be my fucking arm, I used to think. Then I realized it had to be somebody's fucking arm.
Safety on?
Yeah.
This way.
Sun's gettin high.
Deers have ears too.
Fresh tracks. Deer shit. Big one. Here's your buck, Mr. Twombley. I'll circle around.

Oh.

Jill, please, it's alright. Nothing happened.

I want to go home.

Okay, let's go home, then.

Don't mind if I do.

LaRiviere's having a hell of a time in there. Master of fucking ceremonies.

Where's that gun you were bragging on today?

No brag. Just fact.

Got you for 450, 500 bucks?

I thought I told you to move that truck!

Relax, Chief. We're leaving. You wanna toke?

You gotta be more careful about that shit. Gordon or one of those guys sees you smoking that wacky tabacky around me they'll expect me to bust you. And I'll be outta a job.

Some job. Here, have a hit. Don't be such a hardass. I know you got problems, but everybody's got problems.

Not here.

Got a job first thing in the morning, first day of season. Saturday I'll hunt for myself. Twombley something. Er

Evan. He's a muckymuck union official from Massachusetts. You're lucky.

Don't know about lucky. The guy's a fullblown asshole. Pay's good, though. $100 a day. I got to guarantee a kill, of course. Which I can do. There's some monster bucks hiding out up there.

How'd you get the job?

Gordon, he's always got some angle working. He wants to keep Twombley happy, I'm his boy.

Like you and Gordon?

Right. The sonofabitch couldn't get along without me.

Yeah, he'd go broke tomorrow if you quit him.

Right!

Bastard's got his high beams on.

Shit.

Aw, shit, she's here to get Jill. Me and Jill had a little argument. Jack, I got to get back, get back to town. Move this thing, will you? See if you can get back to the Town Hall before they get there, okay?

Piece of fucking cake.

Where'd Twombley get shot?

In the chest.

No, I mean whereabouts.

A half mile in, along the old lumber road.

You bring him up yourself? That's a steep climb.

The ambulance guys lugged him up.

You stayed away?

Yeah.

Where'd you get the blood?

What blood?

On your sleeve.

Musta... How'd I know? What're you doing, playing cop?

I gotta make a report to Fish and Game. I was just wondering, that's all. What'd he do, to shoot himself, I mean?

Who the fuck knows? Musta slipped or something. I just heard the gun go off.

I never seen a man shot before. Not even in the service. Must be something.

Well, I didn't actually see him do it. Like I said.

Sure you did.

What?

Saw him do it?

What the fuck you telling me, Wade? I never seen the guy get shot, I told you that.

You musta seen him get shot. I know you did.

Let's get the fuck outta here. You're not making any sense, man.

There's your old twentygauge, and that there's the new Browning you was showing me last night. This must be Twombley's gun. Brand new. Very fancy tooling. Probably fired one time. It's a beautiful piece of work. But what the hell, Jack, I guess you deserve it. Right's right.

Yeah.

Twombley sure as hell won't be shooting it again.

He sure as hell won't.

I'm fucking out of here.

Lawford?

Out of this fucking job. This job sucks. Working outside in the winter sucks.

Open the door, will ya?

Why don't you quit now, you want out so bad?

Open the door. We're late.

I mean it you got enough money now. Head out for California. Surf's up, Jack, and you're digging wells in the snow.

What do you mean I got money? I'm as broke as you.

It's not enough snow, not for tracking the bastards. No advantage there, kid.

Don't worry, Mr. Twombley, I know where those suckers are. Rain or shine, snow or no snow. I know deer. We'll kill us a buck today. Guaranteed. Before ten.

Guaranteed, eh?

Yep. Right about now the does are holing up in the brush piles. The bucks are right behind them and we're right behind the bucks. This gun gets fired before ten o'clock. Whether it kills a deer or not is more less up to you. I'll put you inside 30, 35 yards of a buck the first four hours of the season. That's what you're paying me for, ain't it?

Damn straight!

Done much shooting with that rifle yet?

Tell you what. You get me close to a big buck by ten, kid, there's another hundred bucks in it.

If you get it?

Yeah.

You might not kill it.

You think so.

You might gutshoot it or cripple it for somebody else to find and tag. Can't guarantee that won't happen, especially with a new gun. I may have to shoot it.

You take care of your end, kid, I'll take care of mine.

Mmm.

You understand what I'm saying? I want a deer, a dead one, not a cripple or whatthefuck.

I get it. No sweat. You'll get yourself a deer and you'll get him dead. And you'll have him by coffee time.

And you'll get your extra hundred bucks.

Wonderful!

I'm okay.

Follow close. We'll cross the next meadow.

I used to play ball.

Yeah?

Drafted by the Red Sox.

You played for the Sox?

Double A. New Britain.

Oh.

Pitcher. "Best ballplayer to come out of New Hampshire since Carlton Fisk."

Really.

They said.

Hmm.

The only difference between me and that Clemens on TV is luck, shit luck.

What happened?

Ruined my arm. Brought me along too fast. Why'd it have to be my fucking arm, I used to think. Then I realized it had to be somebody's fucking arm.

Safety on?

Yeah.

This way.

Sun's gettin high.

Deers have ears too.

Fresh tracks. Deer shit. Big one. Here's your buck, Mr. Twombley. I'll circle around.