| FAN FICTION The Recruit - Written By Revolver I sat at the bar quietly drinking my whiskey, running my fingers against the smooth oak grain, waiting for the alcohol to take effect. I watched at the other end of the room as a few other customers flirted around with the waitress in between hands of their card game. Looking out the window, the town was in the midst of a slight dust storm and the temperature was unbearable, but still a few ill-fated souls went about their business. A small dust devil skipped its way down the street as I patiently waited for my intoxication. I motioned for another drink, and the bartender nodded in my direction as he searched for a nonempty bottle. After a few seconds of ineffective searching, he disappeared into the back storeroom. He carried out a fresh case that he set on the dusty floor. The bartender opened the first bottle and poured me a glass before he began to place the other bottles under the aging countertop. Watching the three men at the other end of the room, I debated whether or not to join their game, when one of them aggressively grabbed the young waitress by the arm and puller her close. He whispered something into her ear as she struggled to get away. She managed to get free and plummeted to the floor as the men all engaged in a good bout of drunken laughter. "You got something to say, huh?" one of the men said as he noticed me watching the incident. I finished my whiskey and set the thick glass against the counter as the bartender disappeared back to the storeroom. The girl picked herself up and dusted off her already dirty dress and slowly made her way to behind the bar. "Does your friend like pushing around the local girls?" I replied, slowly standing up from the stool. The aggressive man sneered at me and slowly raised himself from his chair. "Maybe you should mind your own goddamn business...you know who I am?" I took another drink of whiskey before slightly nodding yes. The third quiet man quickly got up and walked out of the saloon, he paused before he passed through the doors. "I don''t know what issues you got, but it''s no affair of mine." I glanced at the quiet man as he exited the saloon, and then back at the aggressive man. "I''m Tobias Alton," he continued. "You must be thrilled," I sarcastically replied. "There''s a ten thousand dollar bounty on me in Texas, perhaps you don''t understand that I am a dangerous and wanted man." Even standing half way across the room, I could imagine the stink that would most likely be radiating from his mouth. I looked over at his weasel-resembling counterpart, the first man who spoke to me, he did nothing but give me a blissfully ignorant yet gap-riddled grin in return. As I returned my gaze to Alton, I took several steps closer to him. The loose floorboards groaned and shrieked beneath my boots with every step I took. If they could get up and run, they would, as they seemed to be bathed in the experience of brewing trouble. "I hear you gunned down several people as they were playing a poker game, then grabbed the money and fled. Do you believe in punishment for you sins?" "No," he replied a slight chuckle as he looked at his mangy associate. "Well then," I glowered at him, "Do you believe in irony?" "What?" he questioned back to me. I quickly pulled my revolver from my right side and jammed the barrel under his chin, at the same time using my left hand to draw my other gun and aim it at the weasel still standing at the card table. "What you don''t realize is that you are my goddamn business." I love justice. Somewhere in the distant darkness of my mind''s eye, I saw two men fall dead and their souls scream out as they were severed from their mortal anchors. Outside, the sun beat down upon the earth, the judgment of an angry God. Maybe all of us who were stuck in this burning, festering wound of a town deserved to be here. Maybe in some past life we had all done terrible deeds and needed to be punished. Back to Fan Fiction |