Outside in the street, Merrick is calling out the names of the jurors when Cy and Al walk to the front door to continue their little chat. Cy says the Bella Union is struggling to get their "craps concept" off the ground. Al says that's the way with any new idea, it takes the people in town time to adjust. He says he sometimes wishes he could just knock them all over the head, steal their wallets and throw their bodies in the creek. Only sometimes, Al? Smarmily, Cy notes, "But, that would be wrong." No, Cy, what's "wrong" is the crazy lavender top hat you're wearing, for which I cannot believe Al has not boxed your ears.
Bullock is grumpily watching the jury selection go on when Doc approaches him, announcing that he's just seen Mrs. G. Bullock pats his vest pocket, saying he has the proxy he needs her to sign. "You ought to go ahead and get that done," Doc says, "so she can go ahead and leave camp." Today is not the day to be giving Clench any helpful suggestions, though. "Anything else on your schedule I'm behind on?" he snappily asks Doc, who says no, sir, there isn't.At the hotel, E.B. is cooking up something foul for breakfast while being hounded by Mrs. G, who has apparently asked his guidance on someone who can take care of the little girl. "There's a cripple who'd do," E.B. says, "if I could pry her from Mr. Swearengen." Mrs. Garret asks how much money it would take to loosen his grip. "More likely Al would bridle at breaking his routine," E.B. says. "He likes to berate the gimp, mornings." Mrs. G has got the junkie shakes and says she can't see to the child, that the little girl needs someone less distracted. "I wish to see you extricated from all these complications and difficulties, Mrs. Garret," E.B. says, to which Mrs. G gives a little scoff. Like a knight in dirty armor, Bullock enters the hotel just as E.B. asks if Mrs. G has decided about his offer on the claim. Dang, too late, E.B. Bullock and Mrs. Garret introduce themselves to each other -- Mrs. G tells him that she watched him in the gunfight he and Wild Bill had a few nights previous. They share an awkward moment. Timothy Olyphant is, honestly, too hot for words sometimes, and even through her laudanum tremens, Mrs. G is feeling the clench, if you know what I'm saying. They go through the proxy paperwork, much to the extreme chagrin of E.B., who watches her sign away his chances of buying that claim. Saying he'll go to the Gem to see about hiring the aforementioned cripple, he wanders onto the hotel porch as if in a daze and steels himself to face Al.