High Noon-ish

1989

Henry: Shawn. Why is there a giant hole in my front yard?
Young Shawn: It’s simple, Dad. Don’t get upset. The hole is my grave.
Henry: What?
Young Shawn: Gus made me dig my own grave. Then shot me and stole my boots. Only he didn’t bury me far enough and the buzzards ate my entrails.
Henry: Oh. So you were playing Cowboys and Indians, huh?
Young Shawn: Just Cowboys. Playing Indians is offensive.

Henry: Then the buzzards ate your entrails. That’s awful.
Young Shawn: Yeah. It was a tragic end to our adventure. But it’s the realism that makes it fun. If it helps, Gus ended up getting hung by a one-eyes crooked sheriff.

Henry: Hey, Shawn, I’ve got a game for you. It’s called Get Your Butt In My Yard and Fill in That Hole Now. It’s the realism that makes that fun, too.

Present Day

Gus: He’s going to kill us.
Shawn: What?
Gus: He hasn’t said a word the whole time he’s been driving. Face it, Shawn, he’s finally snapped.
Shawn: He asked us for a favor, that’s all. We can leave anytime we want. Case in point. {he tries the door—it’s locked}.

Gus: This is all your fault. You and all the practical jokes you play on him!
Shawn: Those were team-building exercises. To build camaraderie.
Gus: How do you build camaraderie by changing someone’s bank account numbers?

Hank Mendel (James Brolin): Hell, I wasn’t even gonna call you out here, but Binkie insisted.
Gus: Binkie?
Oh. You don’t call him Binkie?
Shawn: We do now.

Hank: It started out as simple vandalism. Somebody’s been stealing our wood from sidewalks, buildings, fence posts.
Shawn: Wood thieves. My first instinct is beavers. But I’m not willing to rule out those pesky Keebler Elves.

Gus: Holy crap.
Shawn: He shot that guy!
Lassiter: I know. Isn’t it great?
Shawn: This is not a real town.
Gus: It’s a tourist trap.

Hank: Hey. I hope you boys like beans.

Gus: If this turns into Blazing Saddles, I’m outta here.
Shawn: Hm. Pull that.

Shawn: Tell me, Hank, have you ever seen this vandal?
Hank: I’ve felt him.
Shawn: Was that in an appropriate way?

Gus: I’m out of here. I’m calling a cab.
Hank: Those things don’t work out here. We got no TVs, no radios, no refrigerators.
Gus: Sounds like prison. Except they have those things.
Shawn: Would you stop it.

Shawn: I think I’m starting to get why Lassie loves this place so much. It represents a simpler time, when people weren’t so preoccupied with distractions of modern life.
Gus: Like living past age forty?

Gus: Your people have a much more affectionate memory of this period of history than my people do.

Lassiter: I don’t believe this. I send you two out there to find out what the heck’s going on and you get Sheriff Hank run over by horses?
Shawn: Look, Lassie, I don’t even know how to get someone run over. And as long as we’re assigning blame, the horses shouldn’t get off scott-free.

Gus: How about I wear the spurs?
Shawn: How ’bout the sheriff wears the spurs?
Gus: How ’bout you kiss my blacksmith ass?