Gun

Third in a series of "Very Short Stories" a project I'm working on in my spare time. The story is so short to give a description would ruin the story.

Gun

By: Jeremiah Elliot Hisel

 

Another stink hole. No cattle for miles and still smells like crap. me and my horse move toward the town. Looking at these peoples faces is like staring at a corpse's, no hope, no love, and no joy. Just emptiness. at least someone cares enough for these people to send me. I spot the saloon, there we go. I walk in, stop right in front of the door, strike a match, and light my smoke. Nobody notice me, I probably look just like all the rest of the trash in this town. the bartender asks, "what I'll have and calls me stranger." Now people start looking. I raise my head and say "Who here is the most dishonest?" people are stunned, but I hear a low laugh from the corner of the room, and soon the whole saloon follows. I repeat, "Who here is the most dishonest?" Then I slowly push aside my coat to show my pistols. Now I have their attention. A couple of drunk hicks at th bar say, "They Ain't no more dishonest then Conroy," and then laugh and go back to their drinks. I walk over, "Who's Conroy?" as soon as the name left my mouth he responded, "I'm Conroy, Quick Shot Conroy that is." there stood a man one glistening pistol with ivory handles strapped to his side. That was to only good looking thing about the man. "Why do these men call you dishonest?" "Because I'm the fastest draw in town and I've never lost a duel before." I hear one of the hicks say, "Because you always shoot before you're supposed to," under his breath". Why don't you show me them skills in duel then?" he replays: "I don't think so mister I only shoot people I dislike." "You're a bald, toothless, degenerate, inbred, son of a donkey." "Dislike me now?" His face turned bright red with anger and surprise. Before he could say anything the room broke into laughter, and people were offering to buy me drinks. I could see his anger subsiding, he's either really smart and doesn't want to jump into a duel with someone he's never seen shoot before, or he's extremely cowardly and is scared of dying like a pig. No more of this. I pull out my right pistol point it in his face and pull the trigger, Bam! he's still standing, I shoot again, Bam! this time he decides to take cover. I shoot three more times before he get under a table. I look at him, and he looks back shocked. "Blanks, Did you think you were dodging real bullets?" Bingo, now he's mad. "That's it! You insult me, you attack me, and then you make a fool out of me! you wanted a duel, and now you got one." Time for work. We all walk out side into the street, a local walks beside me and says "Conroy cheats, he shoots early." I guess I'll have to even the field. Conroy's at one end of the street and I'm at the other, he look confident. It's almost time. I reach into my pocket and pull out a coin. Conroy looks curious. He starts to go for his gun early, I flick the coin in the air. The sun hits the shiny coin in just the right way to distract Conroy for a moment, and before he knows it the church bell sounds. Ding, Dong, Bang! the coin hits the ground. Conroy's dead but doesn't know it yet, and I'm already putting my pistol away. He falls down and everyone cheers. they rush over, pat me on the back, and pull me back into the saloon for a drink. There the bartender already has a shot whiskey on the bar ready for me. I drink my shot while people congratulate me on killing a man whom they most likely knew while they watched and did nothing. The crowed quiets down and people start talking among themselves in the saloon again. I walk over to the door, turn around, strike a match, light my cigar, smile, and say "Who here is the most dishonest?" The Undertaker is going to be a rich man by the end of the day. The End.