Oh lordy, do I have a tale to tell. First of all I went hunting down some noted quickdraw sons of bitches. This led me to an encounter with this Emmet Granger fella, a pigfucker of the highest order. Having shot the knife wielding bastard, blown up his manure pile and eaten his pigs I felt I’d impressed upon him his inferiority as a gunslinger (he only had a knife, but hey, he was slinging it).
My thirst for adventure, and alcohol, then led me to a local poker game being attended by our drunken Reverend. Unfortunately the Reverend got himself into a little trouble, a scuffle occurred and I had to pistol whip a bearded strongman into his grave for being fresh. And there began my woes gentle reader.
An unfortunate farmer noticed my crime and decided to tattle. I pursued him on horseback whereby my horse accidentally fell off a cliff. I was led to believe that my horse, who I have nicknamed General Stinky, would stop if he was in danger of falling off something but apparently that is not true. Luckily Stinky absorbed the bulk of the fall and I was left to hobble after the witness and shoot him in the back five times.
Having gained a certain passion for adventure I decided to see if I could jump from a water tower onto a moving train. Given my previous experiences with heights this possibly wasn’t the best of ideas but without the stupidity of General Stinky interfering with my senses I figured such a leap of faith was entirely possible.
And so it began. My landing was a complete success and I was left to marvel in the sights and sounds of the United States of America. On my journey I happened to notice I was headed straight toward Rhodes, a small community harbouring another of my noted gunslingers. One William “Billy” Midnight. I couldn’t believe my good fortune and proceeded to hijack the train so that it would stop where I wanted it to.
This is where the law became involved. Apparently taking none too kindly to the murder of two guards and chased the train almost into Saint Denis. Luckily I gave them the slip (ok, so I shot them, what’s the difference?) and headed back up the track to locate my gunslinger and pay off the now considerable bounty that was on my head.
Misfortune struck once again as a gang of Southern fellas decided to try and rob me on my way past a fruit picking establishment. Naturally I shot them all dead but one of the pickers overhead the commotion and reported it as a crime (if anything I was crimed against). My attempts to subdue him as a witness were unsuccessful as I aroused further suspicion by shooting him in the back with my rifle.
By the time I made it to Rhodes to pay off my debt to society it had reached a troubling $175. Essentially all I had. Luckily a train was rolling into the station and my gunslinger was on board. Time to grab some cash by killing him and robbing the corpse. Only he was broke. And now so am I. I hopped off the train in Saint Denis in the middle of the night.
The big city. Paved streets. Rich folk eating steak and lobster. Heehawing it up in the saloons. I have 94 cents to my name. General Stinky couldn’t keep up with the train so I am alone. Send help.
No, send money. Then I can help myself. Show a man how to fish and all that.
November 1 1899