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"Well, didn't you just make a rosy mess of that one."
"I didn't mean to." "Did mean to? Son, that's a mighty big cannon you're holding in your hand if you didn't mean to turn that man inside out." "But... it's just..." "Yes?" "What sort of man was he?" "He's a dead man now." "Yes, but this whole taking-from-the-rich and giving-to-the-poor... he doesn't look rich." "Well, no... not with that sorry hole in him." "Before that. His jacket wasn't, well, it wasn't new." "But you shot him." "Yes. And..." "And?" "And now I don't know if I should have." "What? It's a little late for that." "What if he was a good man?" "A good man, guarding this gold? All this gold? With people starving in the streets?" "Well, how would we know?" "Are you serious? Look, son, kill'n comes with the job. We steal from the rich, give to the poor, and ourselves ... we always being poor. And the people that try to stop us die." "I don't know if I can kill good men." "Fine, you want to see if he's a good man?" "Yes. That's my point." "Fine. Here... hold this." "Please, stop... that's disgusting." "Look, I'm not the one who wanted to know if he was good or not." "But you're... you're..." "Yes?" "Those are his intestines!" "Well, it's not like we can ask him if he was a good man or not. That's the whole point of the "ask first, shoot second" school of thought." "Why? Why are you doing that?" "Phrenology of the soul." "I thought that's what you do with someone's skull." "Skull? That's a load of nonsense. It's always been the intestines. You ever get a feeling in your gut? Yeah? Well, how often you get a feeling in your head? Hmm? Only headaches -- headaches are other people's problems that you have to deal with. Gut feelings are things you have to deal with. That's why phrenology is the study of the guts." "Really?" "Look, you're the one who wants to know if this man was kindly or not." "I felt bad about shooting him, I feel worse now." "Well, searching the soul's messy business." "And?" "And?" "Was he a good man or not?" "Well, you've erased a lot of it... but I don't think he was all that kind to animals." "He was cruel to them?" "Nah... I don't get that... more like he just didn't care for 'em. You know. Those guys who never grew up with dogs... just don't understand 'em is all. Wasn't cruel... wasn't kind." "I can't shoot a man for not liking dogs." "Well, you did." "Is there anything else?" "He was stealing from his boss." "You can see that?" "Well, he's got some of our gold stuffed in his jacket pockets... rather more than his guard job was worth." "Not hardly worth it, the way it turned out." "Look. You see this?" "Yeah, what is it?" "It's his gall bladder. It's filled with anger. He had an angry angry gall bladder. He was an angry man. Furious. Monstrous. Angry man." "He looks kinda peaceful now." "Well, he's dead. You've freed him. Can we go now?" "Sure. Hey, wash your hands first." |