Al's over at the bar eating some pears when Bullock comes in asking for a private talk. "Should I be armed?" he jokes to Bullock, waving his pear fork, and they go upstairs. "What do you think of that?" Johnny, looking on, asks Dan. But Dan has missed the whole exchange -- he only has eyes for Flora. "I think," he responds, looking hard at his least favorite drunk of the night, "that son of a bitch better stop looking evil at that little girl." Ew, and he is looking evil at her, too, all leery and boozed.
Upstairs, Al offers Bullock some whiskey. "So," he asks, looking at Bullock's wounded face. "Was it McCall who improved your appearance?" Heee. Bullock says no, and Al says that whatever the case, it's good to have him back. "Me being superstitious," he says, "and all hell breaking loose when you left." Bullock is not really in the mood for such pleasantries. He says he's come to talk about Mrs. Garret, and seeing Al's questioning eyebrows, explains that the man he wrote to assay her claim cannot come to Deadwood to do it. "Plenty of local alternatives," Al says. This is what Bullock came to talk about. "I want you to nominate someone," he tells Al, who is surprised anew. "So if any way his work was mistaken," Bullock explains, "I'd be coming after you." See? That's dumb, right? Also, why would Al put up with such drama queen bullshit from Clench? "Since I got nothing to do with the fucking venture," Al says, "what if I decline to make the fucking recommendation?" No matter how many times Ian McShane says the word "fucking," per scene, it is never too much. Somehow, he pulls it off with such nuance; it's like an art form. No one else can manage it as well. Bullock says in that case, Al had better hope whoever they get to do the assay does a good job, because Bullock would still come after him. "I ain't involved," Al says, ripping the whiskey off the table and back into the drawer. He says E.B.'s the one who offered on the claim. "Farnum's your water boy," Bullock says, flatly. "And I know what you've been trying to do to her." Al is nonplussed. He tries to get a handle on Bullock threatening him with a dire result should the widow's property turn out to be...not worthless. I'm with him -- it makes no sense. "She gets a square shake," Bullock says, "or I come for you." I mean, what is Bullock thinking? His fight with the Indian must have knocked something loose, because clenching around, threatening the hills' biggest bad-ass with circuitous, circumstantial reasoning is a great way to get shanked. Al puts it to him in plain words. "What if I come for you?" he asks. "Are you ready for that?" Bullock says he guesses he'd better be. "Then close your fucking store," Al says. "Because being ready for me will take care of your waking hours, and you better have someone to hand the task off to when you close your fuckin' eyes." Bullock clenches and says they understand each other (which is more than I can say about this scene), and before Al can knock his head off, there is a disturbance from below.Johnny yells urgently for Al, who rushes to the landing to see Dan and the evil-looker locked in a struggle. He rolls his eyes, goes back in the office to shoo Bullock out, and does not even make it down the stairs before Dan has the drunk up against the post, telling him to take one last look at Flora, because she's the last thing the guy will ever see. Al yells for Dan to let the guy down. Dan is reluctant, but finally does after, you know, pulling his knife out of the guy's gut. He falls, dead. "Or should I," Al says, turning to the wide-eyed Bullock, "have had him hold him up?" Blood on his face, Dan turns to Flora, apologizing that she had to see that bit of carnage, while Bullock and Al get into a game of Last Word. Bullock: "You heard what I said." Al: "Oh, yes, Your Holiness. You heard me, too." Flora is still in shock when Al yells at Miles to get her the fuck away from the Gem. "I warned him not to look at her," Dan tells Al, shaking. "I warned him." Al stands in true wonderment now, ruminating on the effects that women can have over even the bad-assest of men.