Original subtitles

Previously on "Damnation"...

We're burying the bodies of three men we just killed.

When these three don't show up back in Chicago,

whatever doctor hired them will be sending more.

You get me something I can use to drive that cowboy

out of town, I'll make it worth your while.

One penny for the entire farm.

- Take her bid. - Sold to Martha Riley herself.

Why are you suppressing news of the farmers' revolt?

Are you trying to get me fired?

I'm trying to wake you up.

We agreed we wouldn't talk about our pasts.

- If you'd just lower your gun. - Don't even think about it.

Wendell!

People change.

Mm, Mr. Turner.

So how goes your bold Iowa escapades, hmm?

I think I'm making real progress in ending the strike.

- Yes. - Real progress.

And yet I've seen you bust citywide industrial strikes

in less than 72 hours.

You've been in Holden, Iowa, for nearly 2 1/2 weeks.

Why are you having so much trouble with these farmers?

If I recall, you even requested this particular assignment.

Things are in motion.

Very soon these farmers,

they're gonna take themselves down.

Is it the preacher?

Sorry?

Well, is he the reason this is taking so long?

I've heard rumors of his agitations, Mr. Turner.

And I was dismayed to hear my colleague Tuck Tandy's manhood

was threatened at knifepoint by this same preacher's wife

at what they're now calling a "penny auction."

This particular hayseed town is, uh...

It's complicated.

When I secured your release

from that wretched Wyoming prison,

it wasn't so I could listen to you stammer out

sub-mediocre excuses.

I secured your release

so you could help my client and I optimize the pace

of American progress and prosperity.

Of course.

When I assigned you to Iowa,

I also paid off three common Chicago street goons

to intimidate the preacher at the same time.

I have yet to hear word from those goons.

I've taken liberty to hire a professional

to dispense of the preacher and his wife

so you can get back to focusing on the farmers

and swiftly, Mr. Turner, ending the strike.

- Who did you hire to... - To kill him?

It would seem that, uh, information such as that

would be legally perilous for someone in your position.

End the strike.

I would so hate to see you return

to that insidious prison.

The enemy isn't just out there.

The enemy is inside us.

It's there when we doubt each other

and God's role in our lives.

Alive or dead, we are all one body,

one community.

If Wendell Davidson was still among us,

I have to believe he'd agree.

We're here because I let the strikebreaker divide us...

because this is what the rich and powerful want...

For the rest of us to be too demoralized,

too angry at each other

to recognize that they're our real enemy.

Why'd you drag me out here?

Well, I said I'd make it worth your while

if you got me information on the cowboy.

Here we are. Make it worth your while.

There's something between that cowboy and the preacher.

I saw it at the bargaining table.

This is about more than the strike.

I can't stop those two and get things back to normal

if I don't know what it is.

That cowboy'll never know.

- I told you... - he's just a john.

Who'll be on to the next town and the next.

Sporting girl.

Fine.

$332. That's how much I've got saved.

Get me the rest for the down payment,

and then we'll talk.

What are you doing all the way out here?

I've been writing about the life-and-death struggles

of my fellow man.

I didn't know if you had it in you, DL Sullivan.

Be right back.

- So? - What do you think?

Let me guess. Half-baked Hemingway?

You have a gift.

"And before the dust had time to settle,

"the deal was already done.

"Four men were dead at the strikebreaker's hand.

"Their children orphaned. Their wives widowed.

"But at least the rest of us will be spared

paying three cents extra on our next gallon of milk."

This is what people are hungry for, DL...

Not Hollywood gossip, real news about real people.

- Written by a fake staff. - A fake staff?

For our underground newspaper.

Our what?

The "Tribune" has a printing press, doesn't it?

Yes, but if Mr. Babbage finds out I'm using it,

I'd lose my job.

Well, then we will just have to make sure

that Mr. Babbage doesn't find out.

Has anybody new come to town?

You know, anything out of the ordinary?

Hmm.

That'd be one way of putting it.

The damn carnival's here?

- Here. - I'll come with you?

- Eh, better not. - Work's sloppy enough as it is.

Yes?

Y'all seen any, uh, strangers lurking around here?

Every man is a stranger to himself.

Precious.

Answer the question?

The only stranger here is you.

Doesn't feel the way you wish it would, does it?

What doesn't?

Freedom.

Revenge.

The world of men.

Look, peddle your bullshit to someone else, okay?

Uh, you seen any suspicious figures around here?

You know, anything out of the ordinary?

All I see is marks and carnies,

just like anywhere else.

Fair enough, I suppose.

I saw you wrestle once.

When I was a boy, I went with my daddy

on a business trip to Cheyenne, and I snuck into this building.

And it was Pitchfork Perry

versus Ed "The Strangler" Lewis.

And I thought you were done for,

'cause The Strangler, he had you in the sleeper hold,

but I'll be damned if somehow you didn't reverse

out of it into this full nelson.

It was over in 15 seconds.

Anyway, uh...

I don't think I'll ever forget it.

Hey.

We actually picked a guy up outside Des Moines.

Dropped him off at a church. He didn't give us a name.

And he just kills you again.

Lew?

I heard you might be out here.

I wanted to surprise you.

Happy to see me?

I'm not sure that we've thought this through.

Oh, come on, DL.

Did Thomas Paine get cold feet

when he wrote the "Rights of Man?"

Thomas Paine was arrested for treason.

Now, this is beautiful.

Sure beats a hand-cranked mimeograph.

It's a Super Heidelberg...

One horsepower, 3,000 impressions an hour.

Now let's get to work.

At least tell me you still drink.

Not tequila.

Oh, tequila's your drink.

I keep pretty dry these days, Lew.

So this is you?

Living in the middle of nowhere,

not drinking, not shooting or riding,

just... eating beans and conversing with the Lord?

I'm doing what preachers ought to be doing...

comforting the troubled and troubling the comfortable.

You sure you don't want some tequila?

It loosens you up.

You want me to loosen up or just drop my guard?

I'm nearly getting the feeling

you don't like having me here.

Look at that.

My bounty's almost doubled.

I'm damn near getting notorious.

If the local preacher is found harboring a bank robber,

it raises questions... Questions Amelia and I

can't afford to have raised.

Look, I don't want to blow up whatever it is

you got cooking here in Shitsville.

I just need a place to put my head down,

catch my breath for a few days.

Why do you think I'll agree to that?

Because you owe me.

Good night.

How are we going to get these out to people?

I don't know.

See you tomorrow.

If you value your life, you'll leave town tonight.

Somebody's been sent here to kill you and your husband.

No.

Not this time.

You may have divided the farmers,

but it won't work on us.

Seth told me that you're brothers...

and that Cynthia...

is dead because of you.

Well, then you just tell that son of a bitch

that he'd better sleep with one eye open tonight.

Hmm.

Good evening, gorgeous.

- I see you've met Lew. - Just about all of him.

I can explain.

Please do.

Me, Lew, and Creeley all grew up together.

My father found Lew and his mother half dead in the woods

when Lew was a baby.

He took them in, and they worked for us.

They lived out back behind our house.

He was practically a brother.

So, does that mean you trust him?

I don't know if I'd go that far.

Why not?

I know you don't like it, but there's still things

about my past I don't want you to know.

Just understand that, whatever you were,

whatever you've done...

We belong together, doing this.

No matter what your brother says.

Creeley talked to you again?

He said someone was sent here to kill us.

- Let me get that. - You're staying here.

Sweet of you to tuck me in.

Why are you really here?

What are you talking about?

They sent my brother after me.

How do I know they didn't send you, too?

If that's how little you think of me,

I suppose you don't.

Still pretty good.

With how Creeley is these days,

"pretty good" will get me killed.

Can't quite get used to hearing that.

Why, because Creeley used to be so yellow?

'Cause you two used to be so close.

If I remember correctly, you were usually at your best

somewhere between drinks five and eight.

Just because you don't trust me doesn't mean I'm wrong.

If you were anyone else, I'd say you'd gone soft.

If you were anyone else, I'd kick your ass

for saying it.

So Squealy's hardened up.

He has.

And I wouldn't go around calling him Squealy anymore.

Shit.

Squealy's gotten into your head.

Like hell he has, Lew.

Huh.

I seem to remember a gun barrel poking out

from under some bedsheets last night.

All right.

Preacher, try again.

Whoo!

Why is Creeley throwing warnings your way?

He's trying to spook me out of town.

Someone's investing a lot of money

in ending this farmer strike.

They've got Creeley and this asshole banker Calvin Rumple

in their back pocket.

So are you gonna mope about it...

or be the man you used to be and actually do something?

Depends.

You bring any more tequila with you?

You sleep?

Not much.

Four more.

Come on.

Are you gonna tell me what's going on?

Wasn't planning on it.

You pay me to be of assistance, don't you?

Let me assist.

The men I work for sent somebody to kill

my brother and his wife, and I can't let it happen.

I thought you were sent here to stop them.

Yeah, I was, but...

it's more complicated than that.

I need my brother alive.

Why?

- Well, just go on. - Come on, finish it.

You're out of room.

Switch sides?

Maybe you should warn your brother.

Eh.

Ahh.

I tried warning his missus,

but she's too stubborn to listen.

Well, in my line of work...

I've found words to be overrated.

So?

So, if they won't listen...

Give them a warning bigger than words.

Can you think of anything big enough to scare them?

Yeah, the bodies of the three goons

my brother must have killed.

Hands up.

Whatever you want, just take it.

I have cash, food...

collectible stamps...

- Whoo! - Whoo!

What the hell is wrong with you inbred farmers?

Well, us inbred farmers are pretty pissed off these days.

The world is changing.

Food's gonna be made in factories.

Now, I'm probably doing you a favor

for closing on your farms.

You...

What was that?

Okay, okay. What do you want?

Eh...

End the price fixing.

Stop foreclosing and auctioning our farms.

- I can't do that. - They want all this farmland.

Who does?

Untie me, and maybe I'll tell you.

Yeah, I don't know if there's really time for that.

So how'd it you feel, hmm?

Overly familiar?

Sweetly nostalgic?

Strangely arousing?

It felt like an asshole banker

just got what he deserved.

We better get cleaned up.

The local preacher will be expected to make an appearance

at the carnival.

I'm a wanted man, remember?

I can't really be seen enjoying a carnival.

You're going to the carnival as a different man.

- Good evening. - Cedar Elk Lodge.

You've reached the Cedar Elk Lodge.

May I be of service?

Uh, Martin Eggers Hyde, please.

I believe Dr. Hyde is in the Vorticist lounge.

Let me connect you.

Yes?

Martin Eggers Hyde?

- Martin Eggers Hyde, Ph.D. - What is it?

Mr. Hearst is running late.

Please extend our apologies to your esteemed client.

Mr. Duvall will not be pleased.

Who may I say is calling on Mr. Hearst's behalf?

For when the Devil calls,

it is surely because you asked for it.

Deny your worldly lusts!

Deny your ungodliness!

Oh!

For if you do not live in this world soberly

and righteously...

Then you may as well hang yourself,

for you are unworthy

of Christ's love.

I guess that's one way to get people to listen

to your sermon.

Afternoon, preacher.

Indeed, Deputy.

It's a blessed day.

You can get away with anything

wearing one of these, can't you?

Enjoy cutting-edge domestic technology.

I took care of our distribution problem.

The carnies are gonna take a stack with them on the road.

DL Sullivan,

you are full of surprises, aren't you?

Apparently I'm not the only one.

Go on, now.

Go on. Go on, get!

- Thank you. - Preacher?

Doesn't the Bible warn against weapons of warfare?

I believe there's an apocryphal exception...

Something about winning a tiny bear for a beautiful girl.

Pardon us, DL.

Sometimes we're overcome by the Spirit.

You know...

we always have a place for our best sharpshooter, DL.

Thanks, Uncle Joe. I'll keep that in mind.

Out for your daily constitutional?

Why does your car smell like rotting meat?

Why do you smell like piss?

Couple of farmers nearly killed me.

I'm leaving town...

the state.

Yeah, them, uh, farmers sure did a number on you.

Yeah.

Might even, uh, split open your ear there.

Ah! Oh, shit!

Now, I don't have a choice but to end this farmer strike.

So that means that you ain't got a choice either.

- You understand me? - Fine, fine!

What do you want?

A favor.

Or you're gonna leave this fu... ed-up town

in a pine box, you understand?

Now get in.

So what is it between the preacher and the strikebreaker?

Nothing.

They just found themselves on opposing sides.

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.

You are right about one thing, though.

All this is bigger than some farmer strike.

Continue.

The man behind the strikebreaker

is incredibly rich, incredibly powerful.

How rich and powerful?

What possible interest could a Duvall have

in a town like this?

I have no idea.

But whatever it is, I'd say your little empire here

is coming to an end.

It seems you've been busy.

The carnies are going to distribute the paper

in every town from here to Chicago.

And if we can get the farmers in the small towns

and the workers in the cities together...

This whole damn thing could spread like wildfire.

Too late to repent. Now you must suffer.

Too late to repent. Now you must suffer.

When in Rome?

I'm not the fortune-teller type.

Scribe your name.

My name is Tiresias.

Mine is a practice of spodomancy.

Divination in ashes.

Hey, partner. Hey, what say you, uh...

shut this thing down for ten minutes...

take a little break?

How about you double it?

Apparently everyone's a capitalist.

- Okay, we're shutting it down! - Everybody off!

Off.

Off!

What's going on over here?

I saw some carnies fornicating

behind the freak tent.

Clearly you're not who you're claiming to be.

- How do you know? - I don't know.

I believe. That is how I see what I see.

From the vantage of eternity,

everything in our world has already happened.

In eternity's eyes, you have already lived

and died.

Birth, life, death.

It's all one design, a single shape,

a spinning gyre that we enter and reenter again and again.

If you would only stop running from your past,

perhaps then you would not be so fated to repeat it.

I know where the bodies are buried.

You sure you don't want to leave town?

Aah!

Aah!

Who sent you?

So is this it?

You're gonna kill me now?

No.

I'm gonna take you in.

And you're going to confess to the murders

you framed me for back in Wyoming,

'cause I'm done being punished for your sins.

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