Bunfight At The OK Corral



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SKU: BunfightFS Category:



Belle Bottoms has taken over the running of The Tumbleweed Saloon in Dodgy City, helped by her bar staff, Molly Coodle and Butch Casserole. Molly’s father Fester, suddenly strikes gold and the Frisco gang, hatch a plan to steal the deeds to his goldmine. After many Bunfight at the OK Corral is a wacky Wild West pantomime. But although the setting might be somewhat new, the story is still steeped in true panto tradition. Love interests, good versus evil, and slapstick comedy.

Belle Bottoms has just taken over The Tumbleweed Saloon in Dodgy City, along with its current staff, Molly Coodle and Butch Casserole. When Molly’s father Fester, suddenly strikes gold, the Frisco Kid and his gang, hatch a plan to steal the deeds to his goldmine. And after many comedy twists and turns, the action culminates in a slapstick showdown at The OK Corral.

A hilarious panto with overtones of Carry On Cowboy, and Gunfight at the OK Corral. It also includes a wonderful haunted goldmine scene with actors dashing in and out of many entrances, reminiscent of a Scooby Do chase scene.


11 principals plus several cameo roles and a chorus with some lines.


All of our scripts have a runtime of under 2hrs (not including any interval) But this is very dependent on your own production and can be edited by yourselves to suit your own needs.


All of our pantomimes come with a full, suggested songs and music cues and SFX list.


Traditional British pantomime, incorporating visual comedy, slapstick and audience participation.

Free Sample


Belle Bottoms
Butch Casserole
Molly Coddle
Marshal Marshall
The Frisco Kid
Doc Holliday
Mayor Burke
Sheriff Wyatt Twerp

Chorus/Minor roles

Stella Artois
Temperance League Ladies
Marshall’s Mother
Assay Clerk
Indian Chief
Mine Echo (unseen)
Saloon girls; Townsfolk; Indians; Ghosts; Skeletons; Puppets; etc;

Scene One

The Tumbleweed Saloon

All the actors enter and exit via the saloon swing-door (SR) unless otherwise stated. A bar is (USC) have as many tables and chairs as is practicable. Saloon Girls perform a song and dance routine. Music cue 1: Saloon Girls. After song ends…Exit Saloon Girls (USL)

Enter Butch.

BUTCH: Howdy folks! And welcome to Dodgy City! I’m Butch Casserole, and I work here at The Tumbleweed Saloon. Now, Dodgy City’s a mighty friendly place and we all greet each other in a mighty friendly way. So, every time I come on. I’ll shout howdy-doody, folks! and I want you all to shout back, howdy-doody, Butch! Will you do that? Let’s give it a try then. (exits and re-enters) Howdy-doody, folks! Great! The Tumbleweed Saloon is about to get a new owner today, on account of the previous one dying from a sudden case of lead poisoning. He was shot so full of lead, you could’ve sharpened his head and used him as a pencil. The new owner’s arriving on the next stagecoach.

CHORUS 1: I hope they don’t turn this saloon into a Weatherspoon’s.

CHORUS 2: Folks around here don’t like change.

BUTCH: I’ll try and remember that the next time you buy a drink.

Enter Molly at a run.

MOLLY: Butch! The stagecoach has just pulled up outside!

BUTCH: Okay folks, let’s give the new owner a good impression – no cussin’ or spittin’!

Enter Belle, singing.

BELLE: ‘Oh give me a home, where the buffalo roam, and I’ll show you a house full of…’ (notices everybody staring at her) What are you all staring at? Haven’t you ever seen a woman before?

CHORUS 3: Yeah, but we ain’t never seen one like you afore.

BELLE: (preening) I don’t suppose you meet many women, as refined as what I am.

CHORUS 4: You look about as refined as Jeremy Clarkson out on a stag do.

BELLE: (to Chorus 4) You’d better smarten up for starters if you wish to continue frequenting my establishment.

BUTCH: You’re the saloon’s new owner!?

BELLE: That’s right. Belle’s the name – Belle Bottoms.

CHORUS 1: I’ll be hornswoggled!

BELLE: Not in here you won’t! This is going to be a family-friendly pub.

Chorus 2 hoikes and spits on the floor.

BELLE: Oi you!

CHORUS 2: You talkin’ to me?

BELLE: Yes! You’re barred!

CHORUS 2: What fer?

BELLE: For spitting on the floor!

CHORUS 3: But we always spit on the floor.

CHORUS 4: What do you think the sawdust’s fer?

CHORUS 1: Next, you’ll be tellin’ us we can’t bring our horses in no more.

BELLE: Of course, you can’t! This is a saloon, not a stable!

CHORUS 2: I can see an ugly old mare in here, right now.

BELLE: Where? (whirls around) I don’t see any ugly old mare.

CHORUS 3: Try lookin’ in the mirror!

Chorus laugh.

BELLE: (to Chorus) That’s it! You’re all barred!

Exit Chorus murmuring.

Music cue 2: Enter Doc Holliday.

DOC. H: Where’s everybody going, Molly? You’re not closing, early are you?

MOLLY: No, Doc Holliday. (moves behind bar)

DOC. H: Thank goodness – I thought I’d missed breakfast. The usual please, Molly.

MOLLY: (places a bottle of whiskey on bar) Here you are, Doc.

DOC. H: (guzzles bottle) That’s better.

BUTCH: (to Belle) You do realise you’ve just barred most of our customers?

BELLE: We can do without people like that.

MOLLY: But they’re the only kinda people we got around here.

BELLE: And who are you two?

BUTCH: We’re your employees.

MOLLY: I’m Molly.

BUTCH: And I’m Butch.

BELLE: I must say, you hide it well.

MOLLY: You’re the third owner we’ve had this year.

BELLE: Didn’t the others like it here, then?

BUTCH: They liked it fine.

BELLE: Then why didn’t they stay?

MOLLY: They did.

BELLE: And where are they now?

DOC. H: In the cemetery.

BELLE: What are they doing there?

BUTCH: Not a lot.

BELLE: You mean they’re dead!?

DOC. H: Yup! They had more holes in them a sieve.

BELLE: What happened to them?

MOLLY: They got shot.

BELLE: Where?

DOC. H: In the body, mostly. And I should know, I’m a doctor. (swigs bottle)

BELLE: I meant whereabouts, geographically.

MOLLY: In this very saloon.

BUTCH: Friday nights can get a bit rough in here.

BELLE: Maybe I should get myself a couple of big bouncers.

DOC. H: (ogling her bosom) Looks to me like you already have.

Enter Mayor Burke.

MAYOR: Sarsaparilla please, Molly.

MOLLY: Yes, Mr Mayor. (moves behind bar)

BELLE: How do your Mayorship.

MAYOR: Who are you?

BELLE: I’m Belle Bottoms, the new owner of The Tumbleweed Saloon.

MAYOR: Let’s hope you last longer than the previous owners.

BELLE: I plan on being around a long time.

MAYOR: You look like you already have been.

BELLE: How long have you been Mayor?

MAYOR: Ten years.

BELLE: That’s how long my late husband’s been gone. (vamping) And I’m in the market for a new one.

MAYOR: Don’t look at me – I never shop at the market.

BELLE: I’ll never forget our honeymoon. I never slept a wink. All night long, it was up and down, up and down. In and out, in and out. (to audience) Take my advice ladies – never book a room next to a lift.

DOC. H: What did your husband die of?

BELLE: He died of a Monday – or was it a Tuesday?

DOC. H: I meant how did he die?

BELLE: He worked at the Nescafe factory, and died after falling into a vat of coffee.

MOLLY: What a horrible way to go.

BELLE: Yes, but at least it was instant. (to audience) I’ll wait.

DOC. H: I’d better be off – I have surgery this morning. Can I give anybody a lift?

BELLE: You can’t drive home in that state!

DOC. H: Why not?

BELLE: Because you’re drunk as a skunk!

DOC. H: Yeah, but my horse ain’t. (exits SL)

Enter The Frisco Kid.

FRISCO: Gimme a shot’a whiskey, barmaid!

MAYOR: I’ll have another sarsaparilla, Molly. (to Frisco) I believe in temperance.

FRISCO: I don’t care if you believe in flatulence.

MAYOR: We don’t want that sort’a language here. This is a respectable town I’ll have you know.

FRISCO: And I’ll have you know I’ve already shot three men today.


FRISCO: (brandishing his gun) So I could always make it four.

MAYOR: I’ll get these, Molly!

Molly pours their drinks.

FRISCO: Much obliged. Bottoms up! (downs it in one)

BELLE: (indicating Frisco’s gun) That’s a mighty big weapon you have there, mister.

FRISCO: I’m from Texas ma’am – everybody has big ones down there.

BUTCH: I once got into an argument with a man from Texas. He drew a gun, so I drew a gun. Then he drew another gun, so I drew another gun. Pretty soon, we were surrounded by lots of drawings of guns

FRISCO: (looking past Belle at Molly) What’s your name, gorgeous?

BELLE: (preens) It’s, Belle.

FRISCO: Well, you’ve just dropped a clanger, ‘cos I was talkin’ to your barmaid.

BELLE: Cheek! Who are you, anyway?

FRISCO: The name’s Keith – but everybody calls me The Frisco Kid.

MAYOR: I don’t hold with silly nicknames. I shall call you by your proper name.

FRISCO: Suit yourself. But the last person who called me Keith is feeding the buzzards.

MAYOR: (suddenly friendly) Are you planning on stayin’ long, Frisco?

FRISCO: What’s it to ya?

MAYOR: I’m Mayor Burke and I run this here town.

FRISCO: Well, from now on me and my ruthless gang will be running it.

MAYOR: Oh no, you won’t!

FRISCO: (pulls his gun) And what are you going to do about it?

MAYOR: Why I’ll…

FRISCO: You’ll what?

MAYOR: I’ll fetch Sheriff Wyatt Twerp. He’ll sort you out, just wait an’ see. (exits)

BUTCH: That’s a laugh. Twerp can barely see the end of his nose.

BELLE: Where are the rest of your gang, Frisky?

FRISCO: They’re outside tying up the horses.

Music cue 3: Enter Bonnie and Clyde.

FRISCO: What kept ya?

BONNIE: We had to tie our horses up outside town, boss.


CLYDE: We heard somebody say that this was a one-horse town. Didn’t we Bonnie?

BONNIE: We sure did, Clyde.

BELLE: These two idiots are your ruthless gang?

BONNIE: (proudly) We’re wanted in fifteen states!

BELLE: What for? Overdue library books?

CLYDE: How did you know!?

Enter Mayor with Sheriff Twerp who wears thick glasses and has a pair of handcuffs attached to his wrist, with one end open.

MAYOR: (pointing) There’s the Frisco Kid – now go and arrest him!

SHERIFF: Yes sir, Mr Mayor! (pulls his gun and pokes it against Belle)

BELLE: Is that your gun sheriff, or are you just pleased to see me?

SHERIFF: It’ll take more than dressing up in female clothing to fool me, Frisco.

BELLE: How dare you!

MAYOR: (turns Sheriff around) He’s over there, Twerp!

SHERIFF: Tryin’ to fool me by moving around, eh? (after much fumbling around, he finally manages to grab hold of Frisco) Okay Frisco, I’m taking you in.

FRISCO: I doubt you could take in washing.

SHERIFF: Make it easy on yourself and come quietly. (holds out the open handcuff)

FRISCO: Whatever you say, sheriff.

MAYOR: I told you the sheriff would sort you out, Frisco.

FRISCO: Yes, and I’d like to shake your hand for showing me the error of my ways.

MAYOR: Always happy to shake the hand of a reformed man. (offers handshake. Frisco takes his hand and snaps the handcuff on his wrist) What the…?

SHERIFF: (to Mayor) Let’s go, Frisco.

MAYOR: (high-pitched voice) But I’m not Frisco!

SHERIFF: An’ you can cut out the silly voice. I know it’s you. (drags the Mayor away)

MAYOR: I’ll get you for this, Frisco!

Exit Sheriff and Mayor (SL)

Frisco Gang laugh.

BONNIE: I need a drink.

CLYDE: Me too.

MOLLY: What can I get you both?

BONNIE: I’ll have a diet Pepsi.

CLYDE: And I’ll have Dr pepper.

FRISCO: I’m not having my gang, drinking pop! (to Molly) Give ‘em two whiskeys.

MOLLY: Yes, sir. (pours two shot-glasses of whiskey)

BONNIE: But boss – alcohol, always makes us do embarrassing stuff.

FRISCO: (pulls his gun) Drink up or else!

BON & CLY: Yes, boss!

Bonnie and Clyde pick up their drinks and down them in one.

FRISCO: That wasn’t so bad now, was it?

BON & CLY: No, boss. (whiskey kicks in) Eeeeha! Music cue 4: (they perform a ridiculous Mexican hat dance)

FRISCO: Stop dancing, you idiots! (they continue and try and involve Frisco) I said, stop! (bops them both on the head with his gun handle)

Bonnie and Clyde stagger about holding their heads.

BON & CLY: Ooooh, my head!

CLYDE: What happened?

FRISCO: You were both dancing like cats on a hot tin roof!

BONNIE: We told you alcohol makes us act silly, boss.

BELLE: Don’t blame the alcohol.

MOLLY: That’s five dollars for the drinks, Mr Frisco.

FRISCO: Put it on my tab.

BELLE: I’m sorry, but we don’t give credit.

FRISCO: Not even for a paying guest?

BUTCH: Paying guest?

FRISCO: I’m thinking of staying here for a bit.

BELLE: Open a tab, Molly! (taking Frisco’s arm) Let’s go and find you a room.

FRISCO: Later, Belle. First, I need to make a bank withdrawal.

BELLE: You don’t have to pay up front for my services, Frisky.

FRISCO: That’s mighty kind of you. But I feel naked without cash in my pocket.

BELLE: The problem is a lot of money these days is tainted.

FRISCO: What do you mean?

BELLE: Well, it ‘taint yours and it ‘taint mine. (laughs)

FRISCO: I’ll see ya later Belle. (to Bonnie & Clyde) Let’s go.

Exit Frisco gang.

(chants off) Down with demon drink! Down with demon drink!

Enter Ladies of the Temperance League, chanting.

MOLLY: Can I help you ladies?

STELLA: I’m Stella Artois, and we’re all ladies of The Temperance League.

BUTCH: Apt name, Stella – but what are you doing in a pub?

STELLA: We’re here to save fallen men.

BELLE: Save one for me, won’t you?

STELLA: Don’t you realise the problems that drink causes?

BELLE: The only problem I have is selling enough of it.

STELLA: Alcohol will bring society to its knees – then what will you do?

BUTCH: Lower the bar?

BELLE: (shooing them off) Goodbye ladies! (turns) Show me to my room, Butch.

BUTCH: I think Molly ought to do that, Belle.

BELLE: You can’t expect a slip of a girl to carry a big heavy bag upstairs.

BUTCH: I didn’t realise you wanted carrying.

BELLE: I was referring to my luggage!

BUTCH: (straining to lift her bag) What’s in this bag?

BELLE: Clothes, makeup, and toilet-water.

BUTCH: I think you’ve left the toilet in here.

BELLE: Never mind, I’ll find it myself. (lifts bag as if featherlight and exits SL)

BUTCH: She’s obviously on steroids.

Enter Saloon Girls (USL)

GIRL 1: Has the new saloon owner arrived yet, Molly?

MOLLY: Yes girls, and it’s a woman.

BUTCH: At least we think it is.

GIRL 2: What’s she like?

MOLLY: Well, she’s already barred most of our regulars.

BUTCH: So, we might be out of a job soon.

GIRL 3: Maybe we should all move to Tombstone.

GIRL 4: Sounds like another dead-end place.

MOLLY: I can’t go to Tombstone and leave father here all alone.

GIRL 1: But you haven’t seen your father in years, Molly.

GIRL 2: He spends all his time prospecting for gold.

GIRL 3: And there’s little prospect of him finding any.

Enter Fester at a run.

FESTER: Gold! I’ve struck gold! I’m rich! Rich I tell ya! (laughs manically)

MOLLY: Father! Is that you, underneath all that hair?

FESTER: Yes, Molly.

MOLLY: Oh, father! (hugs him) I hardly recognised you, it’s been that long.

FESTER: I’m know Molly, an’ I’m gonna make it up to ya, now that I’m filthy rich.

BUTCH: Let’s be honest Fester, you’ve always been filthy.

FESTER: This place has changed since I was last in.

BUTCH: Which is more than can be said for you. (wafts) Phowar!

Enter Belle (SL) she spots Fester and starts shoving him off.

BELLE: Come along Worzel Gummidge! We don’t want the likes of you in here, making the place look untidy.

MOLLY: But he’s my father, Belle!

BELLE: Oh, bad luck dear.

BUTCH: And he’s rich!

BELLE: (to Fester) How rich?

FESTER: Richer than Jeff Bezos.

Saloon Girls crowd excitedly around Fester, fussing over him.

BELLE: Clear off you gold-diggers! (shoos Saloon Girls off SL and turns to Fester) Well hello, handsome. I’m Belle, the owner of this saloon.

FESTER: In that case, I’d like to place something in your hand.

BELLE: Shall we go to my room first?

FESTER: No need. I’ll just get it out fer ya. (rummages in his trouser pocket)

BUTCH: I hope this won’t get us shut down.

FESTER: (produces a paper) These are the deeds to my goldmine. I want you to put them somewhere safe.

BELLE: No problem. (takes the deeds and tucks them down her top)

MOLLY: Shouldn’t you put it in the safe Belle, to stop anyone getting their hands on it?

BUTCH: They’re probably safer where they are, Molly.

FESTER: Do you do food? I could eat a horse an’ come back for the saddle.

BELLE: Would you care for a nibble in my private quarters?

FESTER: Will the food be hot or cold?

BELLE: Who mentioned food?

SFX: Fart sound.

BUTCH: (wafting) Phwoar!

FESTER: Sorry ‘bout that. I’ve been eating nuthin’ but baked beans fer months.

BELLE: Bring us up a bottle of Champagne, Molly. Oh, and some air-freshener. (to Fester) This way my little goldmine. (leads him off)

BUTCH: You fetch the bubbly Molly, and I’ll fetch the Febreze.

MOLLY: Okay butch.

Exit Molly and Butch opposite sides.