Wild Western (2003)

Wild Western (2003)

This story is the first real dip into comedy and the first western setting written. There is was some silly word play in this story. Jeff and Joe the character are like James and Joe from the LegoLand series.

chris ticehurst

The wild western town of Quiet Villa stood in the middle of nowhere. The town bank where it lays in the heart of the villa sits a middle-aged man in brown pants and a white shirt that he said ‘blended in’ with the brown background. His friend was standing on the other side of the bank talking to the mayor. Small he was and shy he was, he had a role to play in the town that wasn’t the sort of character you would have for this role. In the middle of the wide street came a noise in the distance. The mayor stopped what he was saying and looked over to the road to see who was coming.

Three horses rode in to the front of the bank where they sandaled off and tied their horses to the poles that lined the bank’s front entrance. The man who sat at the front of the bank watched the characters walk into the bank. The man had a round big brown hat to shade the burning light that came from the sun. He leaned it down to sleep again until a sudden noise disturbed him. One gun shoot was heard and the man jumped and fell right on his bottom. A loud booming voice was heard from inside. There was a leader, tall, scary looking, never shaved more than twice a year. There were two couples and a bank teller all with their hands up in the air.

“Alright, this is a hold down!” shouted the leader.

His followers who were two shorter men whispered to each other and one whispered to their leader. The leader pushed him away and shouted at him.

“You think I’m stupid or something!” he turned to face the hostages again. “This is a hold up!” he shouted again.

The shy and small man ran from the other side of the street to the bank door where his friend stopped him. He was short and had child like eyes, his eyes used to widen when he was excited or frighten.

“Those thugs disturbing me like that, rude those people. You go and stop them. This is your big chance ya know,” he said.

“But Jeff, they’re so big and scary looking. I don’t want to go in there,” he protested.

Jeff got up from the ground and dusted himself off. He straightens his round hat and pointed his finger at Joe in disgrace.

“You have to, you said you always wanted to have this moment,” he said.

“No, I didn’t” gave the small man a weird look.

“You have to; you’re the bloody sheriff of the town. No one else is going to do it,” cried Jeff.

“But I never wanted to be the sheriff,” signed the shy man.

“Wrong you put your hand up at the town hall meeting,” answered Jeff.

“I thought you held my hand up for it?” the small man asked.

“Oh Joe now you’re just putting it off, aren’t you?” cried Jeff.

Joe gave a sneak look inside and saw the leader of the robbers looking around for the gold that was said to be at the bank. He whined like a baby about the thought of going inside.

He looked at Jeff and begged not to go inside, whining on his hands and knees at him.

“Err…..I just can’t do it.”

“Wrong, throw caution to the wind Joe. Go in there; you have your gun with you, don’t you?” Jeff said to him.

“Now you know the windmill isn’t moving today so I have to be caution about it,” answered Joe.

Jeff hit the ground with his big round hat in frustration.

“Just go inside ok?” cried Jeff.

Joe went quiet and stood where he was with a worried face.

“What cat got your tongue?” asked Jeff rudely.

Joe suddenly got all upset about something Jeff said.

“You know I’m still getting over the death of old Ruffles,” he wept.

“Don’t cry over spilled milk,” shouted Jeff getting up.

“What milk,” asked Joe getting ticked off.

“Stop doing that!” shouted Jeff and he pushed Joe into the bank where the robbers were at large.

Joe’s eyes widen when he the size of the ringleader. His head hide under his shoulders when the robber looked at him.

“Who the hell are you! I didn’t ask for anyone to come in here,” he shouted at Joe.

“You didn’t ask anyone not to come in,” said of his followers.

“Oh, ok then. No one can inside from now on!” he shouted towards the door and Jeff heard and tossed his head.

His attention turned back to Joe and he was shaking in his little boots.

“I’m the sheriff of this town and I want to arrest you – please,” asked Joe nicely.

“What the hell are you doing,” cried Jeff to himself outside.

The ringleader and his followers laughed at him and the leader tapped the gun by his side and looked at Joe.

“You’re not cut out to be a sheriff aren’t you,” the leader asked him.

“I’m not cutting anything. I’m just the sheriff,” answered Joe.

“Lord Jesus help this child,” wept Jeff from outside.

The followers started chucking the cash into their big brown bags and Joe started to play with his gun, ready for action.

“Why are you here young snapper?” asked the leader.

“Well, Jeff my best friend told me to come in here and stop you saying that throwing cats over spilled milk in the windmill is the way to do it,” replied Joe.

The followers stopped cashing in the money and thought about. Even the hostages and the ringleader look at each other for a small pause. The leader turned back at him.

“That’s a mean metaphor you have there young snapper,” he said.

“My name is Rocka Robber, the best in the land,” he added.

“Nice to meet you,” smiled Joe.

“How long have you been in this business?” asked Joe.

“It’s a long time now, 15 years now I believe,” smiled Rocka.

“I’m new at the Sheriff thing you know, any pointers?” asked Joe.

“Well you just treat criminals like nothing and catch many of them,” helped Rocka.

“That doesn’t seem to be too bad I think,” Joe thought tapping his hip.

A sudden cry came from outside and Joe heard it.

“I haven’t forgotten Jeff, I’m just having a chat at the moment. I’ll get to it soon,” he answered casualty.

“Having a chat? Oh Joe, why?” asked Jeff to himself.

Rocka walked up and grabbed the money stacks and turned to Joe.

“I’m leaving. I’ll see you later,” eyed Rocka Robber at Joe.

Joe held out his gun at Rock and cried out.

“Don’t go away and I will need to use this to stop you.” called Joe clumsily with the gun and his words.

Jeff was hearing this and cried out.

“Don’t shot yourself in the foot Joe -,” Jeff stopped halfway to hear a gunshot.

“I didn’t shot my foot, I shot his,” cried Joe.

“You stupid, bloody kid. You can’t even kill someone right, can you!” shouted Rocka.

Jeff was surprised and walked into the door way “You did what?” asked the amazed best friend only to receive another gunshot at his hat, it blew right off!

“I said! No one comes in here anymore,” shouted Rocka.

“You did this time,” sang the followers in chorus.

“Come on let’s go!” shouted their leader and they all bolted outside.

Joe and Jeff followed and jumped on horseback. The robbers took off on their horses out towards the town hall.

“This second time, I’ve ridden a horse,” cried Joe along side Jeff.

“And you’re a sheriff. Jesus blind me!” shouted Jeff.

For two non riders, they seemed to quickly get the hang of riding horses. They turned in towards the robbers and they started to shot back at them.

“Hey that could have hurt me,” cried Joe at one of the followers.

“It’s a bloody horse chase. What do you think this is?” shouted Jeff at his friend.

The robber were chased into a dead end where Rock stopped and faced them.

“Come on guys, we’re stop them,” he cried out to them.

“Right Rocka,” they cried back.

The two riders came in charging towards the robbers.

“Umm.. Rocka. Are they stopping?” they asked him.

“Well its how you look at it. If they don’t look like they are stopping, then they’re not,” answered Rocka.

“They’re not stopping Rocka,” they sang in chorus.

“Bloody hell!” yelled Rock when the two riders came crashing into the robbers and they fell off the horse hard on the city hall boardwalk. The followers were knocked out and Rock fell on top of them.

The mayor walked in from the other side of the town to see the mess and itched his head in amazement.

“Geez Joe, how did you do it?,” he asked.

“A sheriff doesn’t give away his tricks,” answered a smiling Joe.

“What tricks,” moaned Jeff.

“Well done, the other officers will clean this up Joe. Great job,” smiled the mayor looking at Rock.

“Nothing like cats in the windmill, oh my head,” Rocka cried to himself.

Joe and Jeff weren’t so damaged by the affair and strolled off back towards the bank.

“You know what Joe, you’re not so bad at this job but we need to learn how to stop the horses because that always happens to us. That’s why the horse seller won’t let us own horses,” said Jeff.

“Hmm… I think we can learn,” smiled Joe.

“Two heads are better than one Joe,” smiled Jeff.

“I only have one head,” answered Joe confused.

“Oh Jesus blind me, stop doing that!” cried Jeff as they walked back into the bank to help the hostages…

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