S. Quentin Quale
Joseph Panello
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Rusty, I no like-a the West. All-a the people do is kill each other. I like-a the West better if it was in the East. Let's get outta here.
Dialogue
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Indian: White man talk too much. Make Chief heap mad.
S. Quentin Quale: White man, red man's friend. White man want to make friends with red brother.
Joseph Panello: And sister, too.
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S. Quentin Quale: There's only one law in the west: the law of blood and bullets. It's either shoot or be shot. What are we gonna do?
Joseph Panello: Sue'em!
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Joseph Panello: My father-a shot the Indians in eighteen forty-two
S. Quentin Quale: Oh, he should-a shot the stork-a, when the stork-a brought-a you.
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S. Quentin Quale: Are you insinuating that the white man is not the Indian's friend? Ha! Who swindled you out of Manhattan Island for 24 dollars?
Joseph Panello: White man.
S. Quentin Quale: Who turned you into wood and stood you in front of a cigar store?
Joseph Panello: White man.
S. Quentin Quale: Who put your head on a nickel and then took the nickel away?
Joseph Panello: Slot machine.
S. Quentin Quale: Members of the tribe - I rest my case.
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S. Quentin Quale: This is the last hat of it's kind. The beaver's have stopped making them. They're all out playing football. Ten dollars.
Joseph Panello: Well, he's a poor boy. He'll give you a dollar. Will you take it?
S. Quentin Quale: Well, I'll take it but I'm only making a buck on it.
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S. Quentin Quale: What did he say?
Joseph Panello: He said, first they're going to give us a fair trial, then they kill us.
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