Buford: Sure he's here. (darkly) Everybody's here tonight.
The DEPUTY MARSHALL arrives to check the visitors.
Deputy Marshall: You gentlemen are gonna have to check your firearms if you want to join in on the festivities.
Buford: (laughing) And who's gonna make us, tender-foot...you?
Marshall Strickland: (o.s) I am.
Buford (and the audience) turn to see MARSHALL STRICKLAND holding a rifle to Buford's shoulder. You guessed it, he's the grandfather of our very own Mr Strickland from 1955 and 1985.
Buford: Marshall Strickland. I didn't know you was back in town.
Marshall Strickland: If you can't read the sign, Tannen, I presume you can read this.
He means the rifle. Buford turns to him.
Buford: Pretty tough hombre when you're pointing a scattergun at a man's back.
Marshall Strickland: Just like you, Tannen, I take every advantage I can get. Now are you gonna check your irons?
Buford knows when he's beat, and backs down.
Buford: I was joking with your deputy. Of course I'm going to check my iron. We all were, weren't we boys?
They all give up their guns.
Deputy Marshall: Yeah. Right.
But Marshall Strickland obviously knows Buford a bit better than he wants to, because:
Marshall Strickland: Tannen - your knife, too.
Angry, Buford takes out the knife he's hidden in his boot. He throws it onto a nearby table as if it were a dart. He then turns to Marshall Strickland.
Buford: (being a bit of a smart ass) Smile, Marshall. After all, this is a party.
Marshall Strickland: The only party I'll be smiling at is the one that sees you at the end of a rope.
Buford and Marshall Strickland glare at each other before the Marshall lowers his gun. Buford and his gang are allowed in.
Deputy Marshall: Have fun!
A young boy is now seen next to Marshall Strickland. He's the Marshall's SON - the future father of Mr Strickland.
Marshall Strickland: That's how you handle them son, never give them an inch. Maintain discipline at all times. Remember that word. Discipline.
Son: I will, Pa.
Cut to the dance. At the table, Marty is eating some pie when Seamus, Maggie and William walk past him.
Seamus: Why, Mr Eastwood. Nice to see ya. I see you got yourself some respectable clothes, lad. And a fine hat.
Marty: Yeah, well, a couple other people didn't like the way the other one looked on me.
Maggie: Sure that one suits you Mr Eastwood. Very good for you.
Marty: Uh, thanks.
Marty finishes his pie and notices writing on the plate - "Frisbee".
Marty: Hey...Frisbee. Far out.
Marty grins at his ancestors and then leaves. Seamus and Maggie look at each other in a "how strange was that?" type of way.
Seamus: What was the meaning of that?
Maggie: It was right in front of him.
Seamus: Aye.
Cut to the dance. Doc and Clara, as well as other couples, are dancing to the music. Below the dance floor though, Buford and his gang are trying to find Doc. Gang Member 1 spots him.
Gang Member 1: There he is, Buford.
Buford: Where?
Gang Member 1: Right there. Dancing with that piece of calico.
Gang Member 2: What are ya gonna do, boss?
Buford: (darkly) I figure...I'll bury this muzzle deep enough in his back. Nobody'll hear the shot.
Gang Member 1: Careful, Buford, you only got the one bullet with that.
Buford: I only need one.
Cut back to Doc and Clara. They are enchanted with each other and dance into a corner. Doc suddenly feels a gun barrel in his back and freezes. It's happening! Two days earlier than he thought!
Buford: I told you to watch your back, smithy.
Doc: Tannen. But you're early.
Buford: It's a Derringer, smithy. Small but effective. Last time I used it the fella took two days to die. Bled to death inside, it was real painful. That means you'd be dead by about suppertime Monday.
Clara: (to Buford) I don't know who you think you are, but we're dancing.