[laughing]
5,000 Texas Longhorns. Not bad for one night's work.
Pick a color. [He and Bill are playing with a cootie catcher]
I said, not bad for one night's work. [Phil and Bill pay attention to Slim and clap] Thank you. And judging by the ear mark, I'd say these are the last of Big Mike Donald's herd.
Big Mike Donald had a farm?
E-l-E-l... [Slim bashes them on the heads with his fists] Ohh...
That's right. He had a farm. [He goes to his dressing screen stock and puts on his Yancy O'Del disguise] Now that all his cash cows have disappeared, that poor sap's gonna be flat broke. Perfect time for a certain upstanding land owner to step in and take all the land.
[screams]
Who are you?!
What did you do with Uncle Slim?!
Put up your dukes, Mr. Fancy Britches! [Slim grabs his fingers] Aah-aah-aah-aah-aah-aah!
It's me. Hello! [Slim takes off the glasses and the blue top hat and holding a cane] This here is the disguise I use to sneak into all them auctions and buy all the land, you brainless monotone monkeys.
Shoot, you got to be the richest land baron in the the west. [Phil and Bill clap]
Yes, but the part that really warms my heart is watching those homesteaders suffer. [He grabs a branding iron and brands Mike Donald's Farm and the Dixon Farm on the map] Back in the day, I worked the highfalutinest ranches you ever seen, but those stuck-up ranch bosses couldn't appreciate my talents.
Maybe they just didn't like your singing.
My singing?! [Bill cover's Phil's mouth] Songbirds sing. Saloon gals sing. Little bitty snot-nosed children sing. I yodel! And yodeling IS AN ART!!!!
Well, maybe they just didn't like your yodeling.
[Phil cover's Bill's mouth and Slim tries to hit them with his branding iron, but misses them when they duck]
He didn't mean it, Uncle Slim. Everybody likes yodeling.
Hmm?
Why, it's one of the funniest, cornball, goofy, silly sounds in the whole west.
[Slim tries to hit Gil with his branding iron, but misses as Gil ducks, then Slim sees Patch of Heaven on the map as it's unauctioned as he twitches]
Uh, Gil?
Uh-huh?
Am I correct in assuming that each and every time we brought a herd back to this secret lair you've managed to sit in the exact same spot, blocking that choice piece of property from my view?!
This is my comfy place. [beat] What? [Slim grabs him by the neck as he unintelligible gets choked on]
It's called Patch of Heaven, Uncle Slim. Goes on auction Thursday morning.
[his fury quickly replaced by eagerness]
Perfect! [He hits Gil on the head with his branding iron and lets him go] Pencil it in. Thursday morning... right after we sell off this herd.
But it's just a little old dirt farm.
Ah, what's the difference? When you're talking revenge, every last acre counts. [He brands Patch of Heaven on the map with his branding iron]
