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Post by darkman on Jan 8, 2010 21:45:11 GMT -6
Part 1 “It’s a might colder than it was last night”, muttered Virgil as he turned the collar up on his coat. Maybe it was the wind, maybe it was him. He watched the dust-devils dancing up and down Allen Street in front of the Oriental. The street lanterns gave them an eerie glow, making them look like ghosts as they swirled around each other in the dusty street. Wyatt and Morgan were inside at the feral table with Doc. As usual, the boys were making money. “Humph, money…blood money’s more like it”, he grumbled to himself. Virgil still couldn’t shake the vision of the young widow and her five young-uns, the look of terror on her face and the scar that ran from her forehead to her chin. “Fred White’s been dead nigh on three weeks now and still there aint no sheriff, lessen you count that struttin’ peacock Behan. Cowboys are runnin’ rampant, citizens are scared to cross the street….and we just turn a blind eye to it all, long as we’re makin’ money.” Virgil spat on the ground with a hint of disgust. “This just ain’t gonna stand.” he said to himself. “Folks in this town got a right to expect better.” He walked past the window where Wyatt and Morg were playing Feral. The wince on Billy Clanton’s face told Virg that Wyatt had just tucked another note into the family pot. Doc was playing some kinda dire on the piano while Kate was refilling his cup again. Doc turned his head ever so slightly and saw Virg. A devil may care grin and a sly wink from Doc told him that Wyatt and Morg were in good hands, whether they knew it or not. “Like a fox in a henhouse…” Virgil said to himself as he allowed a slight grin to cross his face. He tipped his hat to Doc and continued on down the boardwalk. He kept thinking about how Wyatt and Morg had cold shouldered the mayor earlier in the day, and how even he had turned Klum’s offer down. “Wyatt’s right...” he thought to himself, “its trouble we don’t need.” Just then the thunder of hooves coming down the street and pistols barking in the night broke the silence of town. Some of the Cowboys had been celebrating Curly Bill’s release and were just raising hell as they rode outta town toward the darkened desert that surrounded Tombstone. “Then again…” muttered Virgil, “guess it’s gotta be somebody’s trouble. Reckon I need to have a talk with Mayor Klum in the morning…”
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Post by darkman on Jan 31, 2010 11:05:37 GMT -6
Part 2 The party at the Birdcage Theater was going strong. Everyone was celebrating Curly Bill's release from incarceration for the "murder" of old Fred White. "What's the matter Bill?", said Johnny Ringo, "You look like you lost your best friend. I mean, look around here hombre', there's women, whiskey, and a whole lot of good will about you being cleared of shooting old Fred. Hell even on his deathbed he said he thought you didn't mean to do it. So what's eatin' you?" Bill downed a shot of whiskey and looked at Johnny. He knew Ringo was a stone cold killer with no heart or conscious. "Well there Johnny, Fred White was a friend of mine. He was a man who showed us respect and wouldn't have harmed a flea...and I shot him dead." Bill downed another shot of whiskey, and through gritted teeth said in a low toned, almost disgusted voice, "Hell, I don't even remember doin' it." Ringo's face was stoic, as he looked Bill in the eye and spoke flatly, "Well Bill, dead is dead and you can't change that. You've lost lots of friends who looked up to you and respected you, but I ain't never seen you this tore up about it. Toast the man and let it go, we've got bigger things to worry about." "By God Johnny, that's what I like about you!", Bill said as he let a slight smile come across parched lips. "Ain't nuthin' can't be solved by a toast and lookin' ahead. You're a heartless bastard and I fear the day when you get to run this outfit!" Bill stood up and fired a shot through the roof of the Birdcage Theater. The hoopla stopped and all eyes turned to Curly Bill, who was standing on a chair, shotglass raised in toast. "Here's to Fred White.", he shouted. "The kindest, sweetest, most respectful man I ever knew. Let's all remember Fred with this here drink, as a man who never crossed us and died a most unfortunate death at the hand of someone who respeccted him back. I'm sorry Fred, hope you'll accept that." With that, Bill downed his shot whith the cheers of the other cowboys in the background. He stepped off his chair and sat down and looked at Ringo. "Better there Bill?", asked Johnny. "Sure am Johnny.", Curly Bill replied. "Now then...what's eatin at you there?" Ringo slid back into his chair. "Well, with ol' Fred White gone, who do you figure is gonna take his place?" Bill sat and thought for a minute..."Don't rightly know the Johnny...who do you think it'll be Ike?", Bill asked as he turned towards Ike Clanton. "Prolly one of them damn ol' lawdawgs thats moved into town recent.", said Ike. "Prolly either Wyatt or Virgil..ain't sure which...but i'd betcha it'd be one of them thar two." Ike downed anoher shot,"I think we needs to make sure they unnerstand we ain't gots no use fer their kind 'round here." Ringo looked at Ike, then at Bill. "He's right y'know...on both accounts. So what are we gonna do Bill?" Bill leaned back as he fired down another shot. "Well I guess we'll just have to wait and see. No sense jumpin' to no conclusions just yet. If'n what Ike sez comes true, guess we'll just have to set some rules for them." Bill said as he turned to Ike, "Right Ike?" Ike fired down another shot,"Yup, we'll just have to show them lawdawgs that law just don't go round here!" Ike tipped head and glass back to rifle down another shot, and promptly fell over backwards..out cold drunk. "Ringo laughed and smiled at Bill. "From out of the mouths of babes, eh Bill?". Curly Bill laughed as he raised another shot to his lips..."Sounds like a plan to me Johnny..."
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