词汇：greasy

adj. 油腻的；含脂肪多的；谄媚的

相关场景

She turns deliberately, goes out into the kitchen. A moment later we begin to hear the sound of dishes breaking. CARLO slowly walks out, where we can see CONNIE systematically smashing all the dishes against the sink, sending the greasy veal and peppers all over the apartment floor.
>> The Godfather教父 1972 Movie Script
Then Greasy, the mule, stopped—he had decided to die. Call had to use the dun to pull the travois. Greasy didn’t bother following them.
然后，骡子Greasy停了下来——他已经决定死了。Call不得不使用dun来拉动travois。Greasy没有费心跟着他们。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The narrow-channeled Pecos was running and the coffin was underwater. Call finally cut it loose, and with the help of Greasy dragged it from the mud. He knew he was in a fine fix, for it was still five hundred miles to the south Guadalupe and the buggy was ruined. For all he knew, more Indians might arrive at any moment, which meant that he had to work looking over his shoulder. He managed to drag the coffin over, but it was a sorry, muddy affair by the time he was done.
狭窄的通道佩科斯正在奔跑，棺材在水下。Call终于松开了它，在Greasy的帮助下把它从泥里拖了出来。他知道自己处境很好，因为瓜达卢佩以南还有五百英里，马车已经毁了。据他所知，随时都可能有更多的印度人到达，这意味着他不得不回头看看。他设法把棺材拖过来，但当他把棺材拖完的时候，这已经是一件令人遗憾的、泥泞的事情了。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
On the day of the hanging the square in front of the courthouse was packed with spectators. Call had to tie his animals over a hundred yards away—he wanted to get started as soon as the hanging was over. He worked his way to the front of the crowd and watched as Blue Duck was moved from the jail to the courthouse in a small wagon under heavy escort. Call thought it likely somebody would be killed accidentally before it was over, since all the deputies were so scared they had their rifles on cock. Blue Duck was as heavily chained as ever and still had the greasy rag tied around his head wound. He was led into the courthouse and up the stairs. The hangman was making last-minute improvements on the hangrope and Call was looking off, thinking he saw a man who had once served under him in the crowd, when he heard a scream and a sudden shattering of glass. He looked up and the hair on his neck rose, for Blue Duck was flying through the air in his chains. It seemed to Call the man’s cold smile was fixed on him as he fell: he had managed to dive through one of the long glass windows on the third floor—and not alone, either. He had grabbed Deputy Decker with his handcuffed hands and pulled him out too. Both fell to the stony ground right in front of the courthouse. Blue Duck hit right on his head, while the Deputy had fallen backwards, like a man pushed out of a hayloft. Blue Duck didn’t move after he hit, but the deputy squirmed and cried. Tinkling glass fell about the two men.
绞刑当天，法院前的广场上挤满了观众。Call不得不把他的动物绑在一百码外——他想在绞刑结束后马上开始。他一路走到人群的前面，看着蓝鸭在严密的护送下被一辆小货车从监狱搬到法院。Call认为很可能有人会在比赛结束前意外身亡，因为所有的代表都非常害怕，他们把步枪都拔了起来。蓝鸭像以前一样被重重地拴着，头上的伤口上还绑着那块油腻的抹布。他被带进法院，上了楼梯。刽子手在最后一刻对吊绳进行了改进，Call转头看去，以为他在人群中看到了一个曾经在他下面服务过的人，这时他听到了一声尖叫和突然的玻璃破碎声。他抬头一看，脖子上的头发都竖起来了，因为蓝鸭子正戴着镣铐在空中飞翔。这名男子摔倒时，似乎露出了冷酷的笑容：他设法从三楼的一扇长玻璃窗里钻了进去——而且也不是一个人。他用戴着手铐的手抓住戴克副警长，也把他拉了出来。两人都倒在法院正前方的石头地上。蓝鸭正好撞到他的头上，而副警长却向后倒了下去，就像一个被推下草垛的人。蓝鸭打后一动不动，但副手却扭动着身子哭了起来。叮当作响的玻璃杯落在两个人身上。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The minute Call saw the man he knew it was unlikely. Blue Duck had been shot in the shoulder and leg, and had a greasy rag wound around his forehead, covering another wound. Call had never seen a man so draped in chains. He was handcuffed; each leg was heavily chained; and the chains draped around his torso were bolted to the wall. Two deputies with Winchesters kept constant watch. Despite the chains and bars, Call judged that both were scared to death.
Call一看到那个人，就知道这不太可能。蓝鸭的肩膀和腿中枪，额头上有一块油腻的抹布，盖住了另一个伤口。Call从未见过一个戴着镣铐的男人。他被戴上手铐；每条腿都被重重地锁住了；挂在他身上的链子都栓在墙上了。温彻斯特的两名副手一直在监视。尽管有铁链和栅栏，Call判断两人都吓得要死。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Then he turned and saw Clara walk over to Greasy, the mule. She stroked the mule along his neck and spoke to him softly before breaking into sobs. She hid her face against the mule, who stood as if planted, though normally he was a rather skittish animal. But he stood while Clara sobbed against his side. Then, taking the notes and not looking at Call, she hurried into the house.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Once he struck Wyoming, he rode for eleven days without seeing a soul. The buggy held up well, but Greasy lost flesh from the pace Call kept up. The coffin got some bad jolts crossing the gullies near the Powder River, but the reinforcements held it together.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
By luck, the same day, Call saw a buggy for sale. It was old but it looked sturdy enough, and he bought it. The next day he had the coffin covered in canvas and lashed to the seat. The buggy hood was in tatters, so he tore it off. Greasy, the mule, was used to pulling the wagon and hardly noticed the buggy, it was so light. They left Miles City on a morning when it had turned unseasonably cold—so cold that the sun only cast a pale light through the frigid clouds. Call knew it was dangerous to go off with only two animals, but he felt like taking his chances.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I guess the Captain’s going,” Pea Eye said. “He’s taking old Greasy and an extra horse.” Newt felt his spirits sink. He knew the Captain had to leave, and yet he hoped he wouldn’t—not for another few days anyway.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He was riding the Hell Bitch and leading Greasy, the big mule that had come with them all the way from Texas, and a rangy dun named Jerry, the mount he preferred after the Hell Bitch. Augustus’s old sign was tied to the pack mule.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He went into one that had a huge rack of elk horns over the door and a clientele consisting mostly of mule skinners who hauled freight for the Army. None of the Hat Creek outfit was there, though he had seen a couple of their horses tied outside. They had probably gone straight to the whorehouse next door, he concluded. He ordered a bottle and a glass, but the boisterous mule skinners made so much racket he couldn’t enjoy his drinking. A middle-aged gambler with a thin mustache and a greasy cravat soon spotted him and came over.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Beside him rode a large man in greasy buckskins, clearly a scout. He was bearded and had a wad of tobacco in his jaw.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
There were some rough customers traveling the trail. One day they met two dirty-looking men with greasy beards and six or seven guns between them. Roscoe had an anxious moment, for the men stopped him and asked to borrow tobacco.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Dern, I wonder where that greasy bandit was going,” he said. “I’ve heard of him killing in Galveston; maybe that’s where he’s going. I wish now I’d have shot him while he was drinking.” He tried again to get Lorena to come over to the cow camp, but Lorena just shook her head. She wasn’t going anywhere, and what’s more, she was through talking. It did no good, never had.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Pack up, Lorie,” Augustus said. “You best stay near us for a night or two.” “Who is he?” she asked.“One we ought to have hung ten years ago,” Augustus said. “Couldn’t catch him. He’s a Comanchero. He’s got a greasy bunch of murderers and child-stealers. He used to work the Red River country from New Mexico all the way across to Arkansas, hitting settlers. They’d butcher the grownups and take the horses and kids.” “Why couldn’t you catch him?” she asked.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“No, I’ve shot many a sassy bandit with this pistol,” he said. “I’m glad to have my hat, though. It don’t do to go into a scrape bareheaded.” The rider was close enough by then that she too could see the occasional flash of sun on the saddle. A few minutes later he rode into camp. He was a big man, riding a bay stallion. Gus had been right: he was an Indian. He had long, tangled black hair and wore no hat—just a bandana tied around his head. His leather leggings were greasy and his boots old, though he wore a pair of silver spurs with big rowels. He had a large knife strapped to one leg and carried a rifle lightly across the pommel of his saddle.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Augustus did not deign to make a choice at all. “I intend to ride old Malaria all the way,” he said, “or if not I’ll ride Greasy.” Once the horses were assigned, the positions had to be assigned as well.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Oh, Bol’s got the adventurer’s spirit,” Augustus said. “He’ll go. If he don’t, he’ll just have to go home and whet his wife more often than he cares to.” With that he went and got the two mules that constituted their wagon team. The bigger mule, a gray, was named Greasy, and the smaller, a bay, they called Kick Boy, out of respect for his lightning rear hooves. They had not been worked very much, there seldom having been a need to take the wagon anywhere. It was theoretically for rent, but rarely got rented more than once a year. Greasy and Kick Boy were an odd-looking team, the former being nearly four hands higher than the latter. Augustus hitched them to the wagon, while Call went to inspect the remuda, meaning to weed out any horses that looked sickly.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
They were all scattered around the table, finishing one of Bol’s greasy breakfasts, when they heard the sound of horses in the yard. The next minute Augustus trotted up and dismounted, with the two Irishmen just a few yards behind him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Call ain’t never been my boss,” Augustus said. “It’s no say-so of his when I drink.” Jake looked off across the scrubby pastures. There were tufts of grass here and there, but mostly the ground looked hard as flint. Heat waves were rising off it like fumes off kerosene. Something moved in his line of vision, and for a moment he thought he saw some strange brown animal under a chaparral bush. Looking more closely he saw that it was the old Mexican’s bare backside.“Hell, why’d he take a rope if all he meant to do was shit?” he asked. “Where’d you get the greasy old bastard?” “We’re running a charitable home for retired criminals,” Augustus said. “If you’d just retire you’d qualify.” “Dern, I forgot how ugly this country is,” Jake said. “I guess if there was a market for snake meat, this would be the place to get rich.” With that he put his hat over his face, and within no more than two minutes began a gentle snoring. Augustus returned the jug to the springhouse. It occurred to him that while Jake was napping he might pay a visit to Lorie; once she fell under Jake’s spell he would probably require her to suspend professional activities for a while.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Nobody would be loony enough to hire you to cook, Woodrow,” Augustus said. “The cap is supposed to keep the cook’s old greasy hairs from falling into the food. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of Bol’s hairs have found their way into this sow bosom.” Newt looked at Bolivar, sitting over by the stove in his dirty serape. Bolivar’s hair looked like it had had a can of secondhand lard poured over it. Once every few months Bol would change clothes and go visit his wife, but his efforts at improving his appearance never went much higher than his mustache, which he occasionally tried to wax with grease of some kind.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“If you was to wear a gun somebody would just mistake you for a gunfighter and shoot you,” Augustus said, noting the boy’s wistful look. “It ain’t worth it. If Bol ever calls up any bandits I’ll lend you my Henry.” “That old man can barely cook,” Pea Eye remarked. “Where would he get any bandits?” “Why, you remember that greasy bunch he had,” Augustus said. “We used to buy horses from ’em. That’s the only reason Call hired him to cook. In the business we’re in, it don’t hurt to know a few horsethieves, as long as they’re Mexicans. I figure Bol’s just biding his time. As soon as he gains our trust his bunch will sneak up some night and murder us all.” He didn’t believe anything of the kind—he just liked to stimulate the boy once in a while, and Pea too, though Pea was an exceptionally hard man to stimulate, being insensitive to most fears. Pea had just sense enough to fear Comanches—that didn’t require an abundance of sense. Mexican bandits did not impress him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
You haven't had to climb up all the greasy little rungs.
>> 永无止境 Limitless Movie Script
GORDY:
The old part's in there. I need to match it, and it's all greasy.
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It is a blot, a shameful, greasy spot on the fabric of our national conscience.
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