Revolver
Posted: Mon Apr 14, 2003 9:07 pm
Chapter 1
It was a cold night when a tall man walked into the bar and sauntered over to the counter.
“I’ll have a hot lizard piss, Sajag,” the tall man said.
Sajag silently filled a mug with steaming golden liquid and slid it down the counter to the tall man, and watched silently as he took a deep swallow before spraying the drink around the room in a fine mist.
“Phaw,” commented the tall man.
Sajag shook with laughter. “I never get tired of that one!”
“Very funny,” the tall man remarked coldly, “Now give me a beer.”
“Aw, you’re no fun, boy,” Sajag said while filling another mug and sliding it down. “The Austin Strong I remember always laughed harder than anyone at that joke.”
“I told you,” the tall man said, “It’s Revolver now.”
Sajag’s eyes flitted to the .44 revolver and matching speed loader hanging conspicuously from Revolver’s belt.
“Right, the famous mercenary…what are you doing back in your podunk little hometown anyway, kid?”
Revolver pulled his worn Stetson down lower on his eyes and readjusted his trenchcoat. “I’ll tell you this, it ain’t no social call.”
Sajag recoiled, then leaned in close and asked, “Who’s the dead man?”
Revolver’s eyes shifted to and fro across the bar, then settled back on Sajag. “All I’ll say is this…some twins won’t survive the week.”
Sajag nodded sagely, and then said, “So, you want a room, or what?”
Revolver thought this over, then replied, “I guess I can spend one night resting up.”
He threw some cash on the table and said, “Keep the change,” and strolled off to catch the first real sleep he had had in a month.
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Revolver woke with the sun in his eyes and the birds singing annoyingly outside the window of his dingy, smelly room. He rose and wandered out into the bar area for that first beer of the day, but Sajag was nowhere to be seen. He felt a cold sweat pop out on his forehead, and decided that it was about time to get to work. He checked his .44 and speed loader to make sure they were fully loaded, then donned his extra-thick brahmin-hide trenchcoat and finally walked out into the street. He carefully stalked up to the shack the in which the Dunton’s lived and dramatically kicked in the flimsy wooden door to face….
“Damn it, Sajag,” he muttered under his breath.” The Duntons had had warning, and the shack was empty. The only clue as to their whereabouts was a single hastily abandoned issue of Cat’s Paw (the gay issue).
Revolver sighed. “Well, I guess it’s off to Reno…”
Well......want a chapter 2?
It was a cold night when a tall man walked into the bar and sauntered over to the counter.
“I’ll have a hot lizard piss, Sajag,” the tall man said.
Sajag silently filled a mug with steaming golden liquid and slid it down the counter to the tall man, and watched silently as he took a deep swallow before spraying the drink around the room in a fine mist.
“Phaw,” commented the tall man.
Sajag shook with laughter. “I never get tired of that one!”
“Very funny,” the tall man remarked coldly, “Now give me a beer.”
“Aw, you’re no fun, boy,” Sajag said while filling another mug and sliding it down. “The Austin Strong I remember always laughed harder than anyone at that joke.”
“I told you,” the tall man said, “It’s Revolver now.”
Sajag’s eyes flitted to the .44 revolver and matching speed loader hanging conspicuously from Revolver’s belt.
“Right, the famous mercenary…what are you doing back in your podunk little hometown anyway, kid?”
Revolver pulled his worn Stetson down lower on his eyes and readjusted his trenchcoat. “I’ll tell you this, it ain’t no social call.”
Sajag recoiled, then leaned in close and asked, “Who’s the dead man?”
Revolver’s eyes shifted to and fro across the bar, then settled back on Sajag. “All I’ll say is this…some twins won’t survive the week.”
Sajag nodded sagely, and then said, “So, you want a room, or what?”
Revolver thought this over, then replied, “I guess I can spend one night resting up.”
He threw some cash on the table and said, “Keep the change,” and strolled off to catch the first real sleep he had had in a month.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Revolver woke with the sun in his eyes and the birds singing annoyingly outside the window of his dingy, smelly room. He rose and wandered out into the bar area for that first beer of the day, but Sajag was nowhere to be seen. He felt a cold sweat pop out on his forehead, and decided that it was about time to get to work. He checked his .44 and speed loader to make sure they were fully loaded, then donned his extra-thick brahmin-hide trenchcoat and finally walked out into the street. He carefully stalked up to the shack the in which the Dunton’s lived and dramatically kicked in the flimsy wooden door to face….
“Damn it, Sajag,” he muttered under his breath.” The Duntons had had warning, and the shack was empty. The only clue as to their whereabouts was a single hastily abandoned issue of Cat’s Paw (the gay issue).
Revolver sighed. “Well, I guess it’s off to Reno…”
Well......want a chapter 2?