volume one IN THE D U D L E Y C L A R K - Ohio Vine Tours

Rick takes another step.
“Or another.”
Rick takes another.
“I’m a-warnin’ yah.”
They stand on the porch of the Brown Betty Saloon.
A warm wind whistles, tumbles tumbleweeds along a rutted,
dusty street.
The scent of sagebrush fills the air.
Rick slashes the space between them with his Samurai sword.
blink
It turns into a Winchester rifle.
blink
He wears chaps and nothing else.
blink
He sneers around a handlebar moustache.
“I shot pa through th’ back, now I’m a-gonna shoot you
through th’ front.”
Roy tries to back further away.
beep
Bozo’s nose again.
blink
Mel, wearing a sombrero and sitting astride a burro, bloody
puddles beneath his feet, rolls a joint.
“Jest keel heem so whe can fook won last tyme, hokay?”
Pete, the town drunk, stumbles through the saloon’s swinging
doors.
“Need a hand, marshal?”
A tin star appears on Rick’s bare chest.
“Ow!”
“Not you,” says Pete. “Him.”
The tin star vanishes from Rick’s chest, leaving two red
pinholes.
blink
It reappears, affixed to Roy’s spangled vest.
“Nah.” Roy spits out his gum. “I got ’im.”
“Hey—Roy?”
The murdered Mel again.
“Roy?”
1 ROY ROGERS IN THE 21ST CENTURY