75 WORD CHALLENGE - January 2012 Victory for springs1971!

[Phoenixthewriter]

Rough Knight at the Gestalt Corral

The Knights had just returned to the Gestalt Corral.

Two footmen were facing off from thirty paces; full armor in the summer sun. Cocktail waitresses and bartenders watched in anticipation. One charged. The other answered.

Their swords clashed as the ground erupted beneath them. A blackened dragon shot up from the earth, roaring to the heavens.

All ten returning knights sheathed their swords, drew their six-shooters, and took it down in a hailstorm of bullets.

 

[mosaix]

There’s Always Something Left Over…


Boot Hill. Midnight.

“Over here, Sheriff! Bring the light!”

“That’s it. Look - ‘Kit Carson’.”

“Suspicious ‘bout everyone bein’ kept away from the burial. Those Bar-T boys were sure hidin’ sump’n. They’re just plain trouble.”

“Start diggin’. We’ll soon find out.”


***


“A corrugated paper box!?”

“Open it.”

“What’s that?”

“Just some screws ’n’ paper wi’ writin’ - ‘Congratulations on your purchase of a ‘Carson’ Time-Travelling, Flat-Pack, Gun Slinger Kit’. And who or what the hell’s IKEA?”

 

[hopewrites]

Mr. Daniels comes to town.​

Beneath the lace corset, feather band, amber curls and voice of gold, a demon lurked.
Ethyl owned the whole damn town and ran it from her brothel. Gold that came in never escaped her white-lace fingers.
It was the black-eyed stranger who was her undoing. He saw right through her frilly facade, then shot her clean through the heart. Odd thing was, she kept it in a sachet under her pillow.

 

[Parson]

Divine Intervention
​

Ma told me not to, but I cut through Parson’s woods coming home. Now I’m lost.

Fearfully I pray: “Lord, please help me find our soddy. I won’t ever disobey again. Amen.”

Nothing changes. I keep walking.

A voice calls. “You lost?”

It’s an old man. My voice quivers, “Yes.”

“Come with me.”

Soon we’re home. Ma rushes out and hugs me. I turn to thank the old man. He’s gone.

Ma never saw him.

 

[nixie]

Death in the Saloon​

His target was playing dice as he entered the saloon. He cocked his colt 45 and fired, hitting the target in the back of the head. As the other customers dived for cover, he slowly walked towards his victim, gun in hand.
Surprised at the lack of blood and the strange whirling sound coming from the wound, he looked closer, reeling back in horror at the mechanical device his shot had exposed.

 

[Moonbat]

A Texas Farewell


“You've had yer fun now, dig me up!”

“Sorry Joe, ain't enough loot to go around. Consider this a Texas farewell.”



I survived on ants and beard dew for years in the desert, just a head above the sand.
My hair, like my mind, grew crazy.
I started a-mumbling.



“Ain't this where we left old Joe?”

“Who cares, get digging. They gonna pay us in gold for a talking bush.”

 

[alchemist]

Sleeping With The Enemy


It was dusk on the second day's ride from Fort Lincoln when they found the homesteaders' remains.

“Now we know who's been terrorising the Badlands,” he said. “Those goddamned Cheyenne.”

“This ain't the work of no Cheyenne,” Sergeant Elder replied. “Ain't nobody scalped. Just...drained.”

“Nevertheless...” Puzzled, he swatted away a bat. “...we camp here tonight, beside those shallow graves.”

“Extra sentries, sir?”

“No need,” Custer snorted. “Everybody knows the Cheyenne don't attack at night.”

 

[chrispenycate]

A song of endings

Sweaty smoketent. Rhythmic drumming
Chant intoned attracting spirits
Wolf and cougar, decimated
Fox, coyote, disappearing.
Dance them home, where paleface killed them
Through invading township draw them.
‘Cross the dancehall phantom bison
Stampede through the walls and tables,
Insubstantial, spirit vengeance
For the farmer-murdered prairie

Marshal starts investigation.
Ground floor bruiseless corpses scattered,
Upstairs nothing’s touched or altered
Souls all trampled, intact bodies.
Raven, I move toward city,
For the next revenge installment.

 

[Tisiphone]

Nothing Gentle On His Mind

The western wind blew into town,
With wild uncontrollable, rage.
They’d fought once before,
Apollo and Zephyrus.
Both losers to love.
Nay, no discus today!
This dual, to end all duals,
On the anniversary of his death!
And so with hands poised at their hips,
Fingers flexing, both itching to draw,
Eyes staring into eyes,
And as they drew their wooden spoons to fight,
Hyacinthus turned beneath their feet
And the ground swallowed them up.

 

[Perpetual Man]

What Really Happened....


“Scratch the surface of any legend, you might find somethin’ a little different than the tales tell,” old William Henry Long told the kids sitting around, raptly listening to his words.

“I mean who would have believed there was a strange machine underneath that Bolivian Boarding House?

“Those copies, they went down in a hail of bullets, and them outlaws just walked away.

“Leastways that’s the way I was told it.”

He finished and winked.

 

[Anne Martin]

UNFINISHED BUSINESS

Hank placed his fingers on the planchette. He had to find where Jake hid the loot.

"Jake, are you there?" The medium intoned.

"Yes," was the answer.

"Where's the gold?" Hank asked, sweating nervously.

"What about my half?" the board answered.

"You don't need it."

"Your price is ..."

"What?" Hank begged.

"Revenge," answered a ghostly voice.

Hank turned pale, but before he could follow up, the table spun aside revealing Jake and his six gun.

 

[Flugel Meister]

Hidden
​

He was young, to them. But beneath his strong, youthful exterior lay the heart of a much older soul, one brimming with experience and knowledge. But Valus was hardly surprised at the locals’ attitude to his arrival – they were fearful.

They have nothing to fear from me, he thought. They have other, more pressing concerns than my sudden appearance, such as the Indians of Northolt.

And he was right, as they suddenly loomed into view.

 

[The Spurring Platty]

One Full Moon on the Plains…

Shots and bestial howls rang out in the night.
The saloon patrons knew Sheriff John had claimed another one.

Then they heard it: spurs clinking like tiny steel drums.
The doors swung open.
The dark stranger with odd hat approached the bar. “Rum.”

Removing his hat, long dreadlocks cascaded out. Patrons gasped.

“Our sheriff is…. a beast. Is he gone?” the bartender asked.
“No mon, I shot the werewolf but I didn’t end no lycanthropy.”

...

 

[Phyrebrat]

Bad to Worse

I was tugged awake.

The torrential Montana sun confounded clear thought or vision. I did not identify the brief moments of whickering shadows as anything of concern.

I lolled onto my side to see my horse’s charnel carcass and six-shooter. Another tug changed to a nip on my right cheek; there were featherless chickens on my chest, and I smelled spoiled meat.

Then the green chickens scattered at the first thunderous vibration on the ground.

 

[Brev]

The Legend of Painted Rock:


Prospectors roam
through Iroquois land,
to hear tales of gold
they place coin in hand.

At Painted Rock they gather,
bringing sticks of red.
Deafening concussions
blast dust overhead.

What lies exposed,
beneath crevice formed anew?
What entices from the hole
which dynamite blew?

Not gold which glows,
but argent wings lifting clear.
Their vibrant hum music
to cunning Iroquois ear.

Prophesy resolved;
Atahensic is freed.
Returned to the sky
by the blindness of greed.

 

[RSliwinski]

Pioneer Ingenuity

Texas Slim was from out of Denver, and he rode with the Moab Kid (by way of Houston...)

Belching trail dust, they plodded their horses to Miss Kitty’s Place.

People said that under Miss Kitty’s rough exterior beat a heart of gold. Slim knew better. Her heart was gold, and platinum, and a host of microprocessors.

Slim needed that heart to fix his ship.

Testing the edge on his knife, he planned his trap.

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

LESSONS MY GRANNY TAUGHT ME

My granny, she taught me plenty. How to witch a man, hex a rival, hide a steel heart inside a calico gown.

We stitched my future into a quilt, patch by patch: A rich husband. A big ol’ house. A diamond necklace. Everything a girl could want.

‘Cept for one thing.

Then love rode into town on a bay horse. Shucks, it weren’t steel after all.

I made a bonfire of that quilt.

 

[David B]

Gold Diggers​

‘Thundering over the Black Hills, buffalo returned, waking our dead. Warriors rose from the mud, reclaiming Dakota from the white man.’

After Wovoca told us his dream, Ghost Dancers summoned magic to make it true in this world or the next.

Later, reservation police killed Sitting Bull and Crow Foot at Standing Rock. Father and son passed into happier hunting grounds where no gold lies beneath the soil to corrupt the hearts of men.

 

[TheTomG]

The Busiest Of Times


“No! I done got you good! I saw it!”

A glance proved it true, two holes through his coat. He raised the ivory gun and fired, one shot. A satisfying kick in his grip, the satisfying thud of a man felled.

Work done, he walked outside to where his horse waited, pale in the moonlight. He grinned – but he always grinned. He had a sense he’d be doing a lot of business round these times.

 

[TheDustyZebra]

Wild Things



A final shot, and the last bad guy falls dead.
Painted women sigh as the cowboy rides away.

“Cut!” Cameras pull back.

Cowboys and floozies hurry off, undressing --
revealing ordinary people.

“Cut!” Cameras pull back.

Half-naked humans reach dressing rooms, peeling --
revealing tentacled aliens.

“Cut!” Cameras pull back.

Aliens immobilized, melting --
revealing robots.

“Cut!” Cameras pull back.

Robots opening --
revealing ...

... coyotes, who tie on bandannas, put on sombreros,
and lope away, yipping at the moon.