Doc Holiday

Around Dard City and in the territory on West, there's just one way to handle the killers and the spoilers And that's with the US Marshal and the smell of... Gun smoke! And who moved with it?

Marshal! I'm a preacher.

Not exactly. You dress like a preacher. If you'll excuse me. Back up fancy pants. You ain't no preacher, I figure I'm making you dance some for the folks. You think you can do it on me?

Dude, I said dance! I don't think I'd like to. Will it down here? Marshall, you move aside. I'm going to make this green and blue kick up his heels for us. That might be quite a trick, Thorne.

Unless he's changed a lot since I last met him. Happy a dark. Not for the good, Matt. I was afraid. You're Casey, face ten. But I said shut up. Thorne. Yeah. You just don't know it yet.

I'll take it good if you'd make me later at my office. I'm going to take a good if you'd make me literate my office. All right, Matt. You... Well, that's sure a lot of talk.

Now I'm going to shoot that dude's boot heels. Fire one shot, and I'll put you on. What's that? I'm kind of forgetting who's holding a gun, ain't you? I wasn't forgetting. Oh, my wrist. You broke my wrist.

I doubt it. Now let's go to jail. You can't put me in jail. I'm Thorn Finley. Move. You will like he'll be Jack about this and I will do that. He might be grateful to me for saving your neck.

You pull some full stomp stone, but you've never been closer to dying than just a minute ago. Do you mean from that fancy pan? Oh, I could handle six like him. That makes you a lot of man.