i've got a warrant from OK

sfc crash

Human Blowtorch
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#1
So here is how it’s all gonna shake out. For those of you familiar with Louis La’mour, you know, I’ll explain for the rest. I’m a wanted man, here’s my story, and an ending to a mediocre life….. (Begin music, “wanted...dead or alive”)

It’s 0600, the sun is breaking and I’m sitting in fowlers tap in Edinburg. The bar aint open yet, but Charlie hawks, the owner, is pouring my drinks. The conversation is short, to the point “ ‘nother, Dick” Charlie draws, from the end of the bar, “ Yeh…, Falls’ coming hard this year” I sigh. Charlie grabs the bottle of Glenfiditch, order in special from St Louis, and pours another shot, he returns to the end of the bar to continue washing bar mugs. The bars empty, but not lonely, Charlie in his bib overs and a half on apron, stained and old, me, middle of the bar with my only two friends left in the world. Glenfiditch and my colt 1911, in my back waist. One’s slowly going while the other hasn’t made his entrance yet. I’m in my sporting best, a coat over against the falls chill, brooks brothers yellow, red, green check sports jacket, unbuttoned, green polyester masters tourney collard sport shirt, one button on the top open, my black and white checked sansabelles, tight in the waist from the colt in the back, my brown saddle back’s, worn from the ride into town, my white straw hat, drooping, like me, from hard years and my ray ban wayfarers on. I know he’s coming for me, it’ll be a long ride for him, but he’s the one they’ll send. They always send “him” when it’s tough. A warrant from Oklahoma, Stillwater, for me…it don’t get much tougher than that. I figure he’ll be road worn when he shows, but once he lays eyes on me, he’ll be sharp enough. Me, I don’t much care, another shot from Charlie and I’ll be just dull enough to draw on him this time, maybe my last….drink, draw, friend.

The bar doors swing open, Charlie squints from the bright morning light rushing in and cocks his head to get a better look, me, I just feel the cool air rush in. It braces me a bit, brings me back a bit. I don’t need to look, no need to squint, I’ve got my wayfarers on, no need to turn to see, I know, but I can still see him in the bar mirror. The bright lite back lit, and my whiskey eyes, gives him kind of a glow around him, softening his sharp edges. Only less sharp in this image, I can tell he’s sharp as ever, looks like a picture I saw once in Sunday school. Michael, the avenging angle, but this weren’t Michael and sure a hell he aint no angle. Carlos Benedicto Juarez, the best Still water could find, the best the west could find and he was here for me. Carlos was dressed for the occasion, he always was a bit of a dandy, but today from what I could tell in the mirror, he was even more dandy than most. Patent leather black riding boots up to his knees, flared ,pressed riding pants, no dust from the road. I bet he packed’em in and just put them on for this. I could make out the glint of the glock in his patent leather utility belts holster, no cuffs I noticed. None needed this time I figured. His faceless bell helmet shone, a sheriffs star the only adornment and his mirrored sunglasses. He’d the glock, but brought a much bigger friend to play this time, a Winchester 12 gauge scatter gun, repeater, 8 shots. I figured he’d only need two of em, or only get two of em of regardless. He raised the Winchester, no need to cycle a round, he’d never come for me empty chambered. “Dick”..His English good enough, but you could tell he was raised way south of the Grande before heading Norte’ for a law job. “We have to go” he almost said it gleefully, grinning I saw his two gold front teeth. I waived my arm over “sit, cut the dust, Charlie….” “Not these times me amigo, we do this now!” I felt a chill, he was holding the doors open and in came a blast of air, colder than the others as of yet, I shuddered a bit “ gonna be a hard fall me amigo…hard fall…” I spin on my stool and grab for my colt, I fumble a bit…maybe too much whiskey, maybe too much time, maybe only going through the motions, I noticed as I faced him, still with my colt only half way around, how bright the sun was for such a cold morning. I saw it before I heard it, never did feel it. The first blast from his Winchester put me back against the bar, still clutching my colt, he firing from the hip. The time hung, the smoke slowly rose from his barrel, and blown in from another blast of cold air “hard fall this time” I muttered as I tried to raise my colt. The last blast I neither felt nor heard only saw, my last sight, Carlos benedicto Juarez, the Winchester and the bright light for such a cold morning. I fell hard, hard I guess as any man with 2 12 gauge rounds of 00 buck in his chest. And lay face down, dead. Carlos lowers his Winchester “ Sharlie..It’s been a long ride, I believe I’ll take me amigo dicks offer now. Bring me a bottle of mescal and shut that door, it’s way too cold up north here”…..Charlie brings him a bottle of mescal, places it on the bar, Carlos step over my body to take his seat. Charlie walks to the doors and shuts them; looking at Carlos he said “way to cold for this time of year, we call these hard falls”
 

XRpredator

AssClown SuperPowers
Damn Yankees
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#2
it is pretty cool you could post this from the grave, Sarge . . .
 

Smitty

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#3
Sarge,

Take the Mexican Blackbird.

Regards,

Billy.
 
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#4
Originally posted by XRpredator
it is pretty cool you could post this from the grave, Sarge . . .
Must be a Western Halloween ghost story, I guess.

Surge was a hard man. And she always said, "A hard man is good to find."

S'pose she'll be lookin' agin fer one. Could be you. Could be me. More likely somebody younger, fresher, lot less cynical.

Don't matter much now no how I 'spect. Surge is gone. That's certain. Ain't no one kin take his place. That's certainer.

He was a hard man, Surge was.
 

RM_guy

Moderator /
Damn Yankees
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#5
Are you guys even sure that was Sarge that wrote that?:think: I mean, there were sentences...and capitol letters at the beginning of them, not to mention punctuation!!
 

dirty~d~

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#6
He couldn't have. I understood it. :eek: :confused:
 

GETMETOCA

Can't Wait For Tuesdays
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#7
I thought this was a continuation of his little fiasco with Stillwater's finest the day he got in a little fender bender.

Diane, I understood it too....:)
 

WaltCMoto

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#9
R I P
It wont be the same round here no mo. But we all knew this would be the way he wanted it. :flame:
 

sfc crash

Human Blowtorch
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#12
i aint dead silly, i was just saying, were i an outlaw. but alas, i'm an old man eating tomatoes out of a can. i sent in my fine. bet i still have a warrant tho.that'll be interesting next trip to OK.
 

sfc crash

Human Blowtorch
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#14
"such a fine sight too see, it's crash my lord with a yammy in his ford, slowing down to take a look at me" :yeehaw: