So, picture the scene. We've got the kids in bed, we've had our dinner, and we're sitting down to relax in front of the television. Let's have a look what we have saved on the Tivo. Ooh good, Deadwood. I'll have some of that. So we put our feet up, relax and hit play.
Swearengen's in his usual good form. A f***ing c**t here, a c***sucker there. Mr Wu joins in too, "Sweargen, c***sucker", with far more emphasis than I can possibly muster with my simple bold and underlining tools. Ooh, was that another "C" word and something disturbing about brine from that particular region? Outstanding. Hold on a sec, what was that noise? "Did you hear that dear?" And I very quickly develop a pit in my stomach as I realize that I recognize that sound. Yes, it's the sound of one of my very young children under the dining table rather than asleep in bed. Marvellous. How long has he been there? How much has he heard? Tomorrow, can I expect to be flooded with questions like "Daddy, what's a f***ing c**t?" Or, "What does a c**ksucker look like? Does it live in Africa? Does it have horns? Show me a picture of one on the computer." I guess I can only hope that he arrived very recently, missing all that language and only catching the blow job scene. Excellent.