violence with violence feminist loyalty of the killer friendship
and how to become a writer
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The ultimate killer king
Rico 2022-03-21 09:01:10
The director starring in the production of Crete Eastwood Westerns is the most attractive genre. Although the total number of bullets consumed is not as good as the few seconds of modern gunfight movies, the fascinating atmosphere is incomparable. The last writer was completely stunned. Bob and Bill were both showing off their killer theory. Their understanding of guns made writers admire to write books for them. But the irony is that the stronger the stronger the better the better the better the brag. It is linked to tragic
violence with violence feminist loyalty of the killer friendship
and how to become a writer
violence with violence feminist loyalty of the killer friendship
and how to become a writer
Extended Reading
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Hayden 2022-03-25 09:01:05
A movie that has subverted almost all the classic plot settings of Western films without losing the soul of the west.
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Anabelle 2021-10-20 19:00:35
There are too many places to itch, but Westerns have a mellow style, so I don’t think there is a special anti-genre. Of course, the most exciting thing is... Still need to say, this is an autobiography, the actors and characters are integrated, and it is always Eastwood. In his whole life, he can witness a legend that is still alive.
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[the night after Davey is killed, a rock is thrown through the ladies' window]
Man: Murderin' whores!
Strawberry Alice: [screaming out the window] HE HAD IT COMING! THEY ALL HAVE IT COMING!
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[Little Bill is telling Beauchamp the real story of English Bob's gunfight]
Little Bill Daggett: You see, the night that Corky walked into the Blue Bottle, and before he knows what's happening, Bob here takes a shot at him! And he misses, 'cause he's so damn drunk. Now that bullet whizzing by panicked old Corky, and he did the wrong thing. He went for his gun in such a hurry that he shot his own damn toe off. Meantime Bob here, he's aiming real good, and he squeezes off another, but he misses, because he's still so damn drunk, and he hits this thousand-dollar mirror up over the bar. And now, the Duck of Death is as good as dead. Because Corky does it right. He aims real careful, no hurry...
W.W. Beauchamp: And...?
Little Bill Daggett: BAM! That Walker Colt blew up in his hand, which was a failing common to that model. You see, if old Corky had had two guns instead of just a big dick, he would have been there right to the end to defend himself.
W.W. Beauchamp: Wait a minute. You mean that, English Bob killed him when he didn't even have...?
Little Bill Daggett: Well, old Bob wasn't goin' to wait for Corky to grow a new hand. No, he just walked over there real slow - 'cause he was drunk - and shot him right through the liver. Pop!