Jim: Well, it got so that every piss-ant prairie punk who thought he could shoot a gun would ride into town to try out the Waco Kid. I must have killed more men than Cecil B. DeMille. It got pretty gritty. I started to hear the word "draw" in my sleep. Then one day, I was just walking down the street when I heard a voice behind me say, "Reach for it, mister!" I spun around... And there I was, face-to-face with a six-year old kid. Well, I just threw my guns down and walked away. Little bastard shot me in the ass. So I limped to the nearest saloon, crawled inside a whiskey bottle, and I've been there ever since.
Howard Johnson: [reading paper] As chairman of the welcoming committee, it is my privilege to extend a laurel and hardy handshake to our new [looks up and sees Bart] nigger.
Mongo: Mongo only pawn... In game of life.
Reverend Johnson: Order, order. Goddamnit, I said "order."
Howard Johnson: Y'know, Nietzsche says: "Out of chaos comes order."
Olson Johnson: Oh, blow it out your ass, Howard.
[Gabby looks through the telescope and sees Bart.]
Gabby: Hey! The sheriff is a n... [church bells cut him off.].
Townsman: What did he say?
Olson Johnson: "The sheriff is near."
Gabby: No! Goflabindengflibit. The sheriff is a n... [church bells cut him off again.].
Lili Von Shtupp: Is that a ten-gallon hat, or are you just enjoying the show?
Reverend Johnson: Now I don't have to tell you good folks what's been happening in our beloved little town. Sheriff murdered, crops burned, stores looted, people stampeded, and cattle raped. The time has come to act, and act fast. I'm leaving.
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