Into the Badlands

T.L. Barston, Bounty Man:
You better hope the wind don't shift. Your townsfolk get a whiff of you, they're liable to clear out faster than you can say formaldehyde.

T.L. Barston, Bounty Man:
Back in the days of the old West, there were these stretches of territory that I think God and nature just plain forgot about... dark and parched and empty as the moons of Mars. Places where sensible men never vertured... where only dreams and phantoms walked. Kind of a way station between civilization and the Ninth Circle of Hell - The Badlands.

T.L. Barston, Bounty Man:
I smell the aroma of cash.

T.L. Barston, Bounty Man:
I only wish I could have stayed, but with a bounty man, it just doesn't work that way.