Calvin Candie: Hey! You lay your palms flat on that tabletop! If you lift those palms off of that turtleshell tabletop, Mr. Pooch is gonna let loose through both ends of that sawed-off!
Calvin Candie: There have been a lot of lies said around this dinner table here tonight, but that you can believe!
Dr. King Schultz: Actually, I was thinking of that poor devil you fed to the dogs today, D'Artagnan. And I was wondering what Dumas would make of all this.
Sheriff Bill Sharp: Now, why do ya'll wanna come into my town and start trouble? And scare all of these nice people? You ain't got nothing better to do than to come into Bill Sharp's town and show your ass!
Calvin Candie: I've heard tell about you. I heard you been telling everybody them mandingos ain't no damn good, ain't nothing nobody is selling is worth buying - I'm curious. What makes you such a mandingo expert?
Dr. King Schultz: Normally, Monsieur Candie, I would say "Auf Wiedersehen." But since what "Auf Wiedersehen" actually means is "'until I see you again" and since I never wish to see you again, to you sir, I say goodbye.
Dr. King Schultz: Alexander Dumas. He wrote 'The Three Musketeers.' I figured you must be an admirer. You named your slave after his novel's lead character. If Alexander Dumas had been there today, I wonder what he would have made of it?
Calvin Candie: You doubt he'd approve?
Dr. King Schultz: Yes. His approval would be a dubious proposition at best.
Big Daddy: Django isn't a slave. Django is a free man. You understand? You can't treat him like any of these other niggers around here, cause he ain't like any of these other niggers around here. Ya got it?
Betina: You wan' I should
treat him like white folks?
Big Daddy: No. That's not what I said.
Betina: Then I don't know
what'cha want, Big Daddy.
Dr. King Schultz: My name is Dr. King Schultz, and like yourself, Marshall, I am a servant of the court. The man lying dead in the dirt, who the good people of Daughtrey saw fit to elect as their sheriff, who went by the name of Bill Sharp, is actually a wanted outlaw by the name of Willard Peck, with a price on his head of 200 dollars. Now, that's 200 dollars, dead or alive.
Marshall Gill Tatum: The hell you say!
Dr. King Schultz: I'm aware this is probably disconcerting news. But I'm willing to wager this man was elected sheriff sometime in the last 2 years. I know this because 3 years ago, he was rustling cattle from the B.C. Corrigan Cattle Company of Lubbock, Texas. Now this is a warrant, made out by circuit court Judge Henry Allen Laudermilk of Austin Texas. You're encouraged to wire him. He'll back up who I am, and who your dear departed sheriff was. In other words Marshall,
you owe me 200 dollars.
Dr. King Schultz: Now as to you poor devils? So as I see it, when it comes to the subject of what to do next, you gentlemen have two choices.
One: once I'm gone, you could lift that beast off the remaining Speck, then carry him to the nearest town. Which would be at least 37 miles back the way you came.
Or Two: You could unshackle yourselves? take that rifle, put a bullet in his head, bury the two of them deep, and then make your way to a more
enlightened area of this country.
The choice is yours.
Oh, and on the off chance there are any astronomy aficionados amongst you, the North Star is that one.
Tata.
Bag Head #2: I think we all think the bags was a nice idea. But, not pointing any fingers, they could of been done better. So how bout, no bags this time, but next time, we do the bags right, and then go full regalia.
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Luke: Alright. I'll give it a try. Yoda: No. Try not. Do or do not. There is no try.