Grand Theft Horse - (Old West Comedy / Dead / IC)

[Castelia]

A Certain House, Main Street, East Zilch
Djingles

"There, just a bit more and... done!"

A triumphant grin on his face, Djingles stood up and admired his creation. It was a wooden mask, painted to resemble the make-up of a clown. This was the 5th and final mask that Djingles had been laboring for the entire week to produce.

Heh, now I just gotta let this thing dry, then it's off to distributing them around, he thought to himself. The plan was to give away these masks to the townsfolk as a sort of advertisement for his clown act, which was an admittedly smart move to make. While he could sell the masks and make some money, Djingles decided that giving them away for free was the smarter move for now, for he needed all the good attention he could take.

While waiting for the mask to dry, Djingles decided to reflect for a bit on his current life on East Zilch. It had not been too long ago, three months to be precise, since he had arrive at this small town in the middle of nowhere. An aspiring clown could have traveled somewhere else, a larger town perhaps, but Djingles knew there was competition there, and from far better established clowns too. Thus, he had to start somewhere small, and it was East Zilch he chose. If he could build up his confidence and talent here, he would have more courage to go to the larger cities. But so far, despite his self-proclaimed talent, he was going nowhere.

It wasn't that the townsfolk didn't hire him, oh no. He had done plenty of work in East Zilch, but it wasn't the work he wanted. He remembered his first job, when he walked up to a certain rich merchant and asked if he could perform as a clown for the merchant's daughter's birthday party. Instead, he ended up a bodyguard in charge of watching over the merchant's store while the party was ongoing. Impressed that no one tried to rob the store, the merchant began hiring him on a regular basis, and soon everyone who could afford his services was paying him a visit. He was soon guarding stores and homes, acting as a chauffeur, and at one point even became a debt collector on behalf of a moneylender.

Lots of bodyguard work, no clown activities. All because of my looks. Allowing himself to sigh, he walked over to a table where the other four masks were laid. Picking up one, he put it on and began practicing his clown work, dreaming of the day when he would finally be allowed to perform.

Then he suddenly heard a commotion outside, and someone was shouting really loudly. Wondering what the heck was happening (and excited that something new was happening in this sleepy town for once), he rushed out of the house, forgetting that his mask was still on.

Thus, there was a big scary man, wearing a mask, approaching the caravan.

[Voxija]

Doc Festy rolled up his wagon into one of the nondescript little towns that dotted the West. It wasn't East Zilch, since the saloon was labeled "Smith's" instead of "Stein's" but it was purty near our setting. Doc set up his collection of voodoo medicines, tonics, miracle elixirs, cure-alls, kickapoo cures, snake oil, fish oil, liver oil, coconut oil, pastes, and a bunch of other quack medicines. Finally, Doc set up a sign: Doc Festy's Traveling Medicine Show. Now he was ready.

Doc Festy whistled. A curious crowd was already startin' to gather near his wagon. And then Doc hollered. "Sufferin' from baldness? Blindness? The vapors? Hysteria? Consumption? Coronavirus? No matter what you got, here in my wagon there's a cure for YOU!"

Basically half the town was gathered 'round Doc Festy at this point. Doc could see that this was good for business. Of course, he was going to swindle this nameless little town out of every penny they got. None of Doc's medicines worked, he knew that. The trick was to get out of town before anybody realized that.

An old lady tried to walk up to Doc Festy. "You seem like a nice feller. Can you get help me with my arthritis?"

Doc Festy was reaching for his miracle elixir when he noticed something off. By the old lady's clothes, she was a Painted Jezebel! Doc tried not to vomit as he handed the elixir to the old lady call girl.

"This here—" *retch* "—is my Doc Festy's miracle elixir. It's guaranteed to cure anything, from arthritis to male pattern baldness. And just for you, dear lady—" *retch* "—I'm throwing it half price off."

"Thank you dear," the old lady said.

"Take three spoonfuls tonight and TG me in the morn."

"Excuse me, Mr. Festy?" asked a man in the crowd. "Is this a patent medicine?"

"Patent pending," Doc Festy said proudly. He was good at pretending to be proud.

An Injun-looking feller spoke up next. "Do you sell snake oil? I mean, the real kind?" Doc Festy knew medicine men, not the fake kind, swore by real snake oil. Just for these sorts of occasions, Festy knew what to bring.

The medicine show man held up a cage with a garter snake in it. Its scales were dull, and its expression was languid. The snake's, not Doc's. "Now boys, you know I make real snake oil. Not those fake stuff snake oil salesmen try to peddle on the unwary, no sir! This, my snake oil, is real. Of course, I already made all the snake oil I'm gonna sell for the day, so I'm not gonna turn this snake into snake oil right in front of y'all."

In reality, Doc Festy didn't make his snake oil out of real snakes. He just brought his pet snake Along along to fool his marks into thinkin' they were gettin' actual snake oil. Doc, in all honesty, detested cruelty to animals. Along probably didn't see it that way.

"Howdy!" "Howdy!" "Howdy!" In every town, there was always a group of three people who'd serenade Doc Festy with cries of "Howdy!" Doc didn't know why. It was like he was in a theater play or something. In this town, there were three women. In the last town, there was one cowboy and two Painted Jezebels that held his arms. Doc
Festy was used to it by now.

"Behold! The Cure-Baldness-inator, my miracle paste!" shouted Doc Festy. "May I have a volunteer from the audience?"

A middle-aged cowboy walked up to Doc and took off his hat. Under the hat was nothing. "I didn't get scalped by an Injun," the cowboy denied suspiciously. "I'm just cursed with early baldness."

Doc Festy had to make a show out of applying the anti-baldness paste. "Made from the saliva of a young wife, the skin flakes of a [BLEEP], nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips, this paste has taken me and my ancestors several decades to make. And now—its effects!"

Doc rubbed the paste into the cowboy's head. Nothing happened.

"Oh, just wait a couple of hours," explained Doc Festy. "Then he'll have the most luxurious head of hair y'all'd ever seen."

Doc Festy's medicine show ended. He flew out of the nameless town as fast as he could. It wouldn't do to have himself be in town when the nameless extras, the marks, found out that the medicines didn't work.

Doc Festy downed a bottle of one of his medicines. That was lunch. That medicine was supposed to cure swamp fever, but it was really made of sugared water. Doc didn't think swamp fever existed, either.

Doc knew he was traveling south. Purty soon he'll be in Mexico. He knew some Spanish (hola, sí, and taco) so he could hawk his wares in Mexico. But before Doc arrived at Mexico, he arrived at East Zilch.

Traveling at the speed of plot, Doc Festy arrived in East Zilch just in time to see the rodeo clown charge at the bank wagons. Doc Festy wasn't afraid of clowns. He was afraid of hurricanes, getting shot, being swindled, getting called out on his actions, going insane, and his hair growing too long, but he was definitely not afraid of rodeo clowns. He decided to park his wagon a fair distance away from East Zilch, in order to swoop in at the right moment.

[Stollberg-Stolberg]

Thus, there was a big scary man, wearing a mask, approaching the caravan.

Main Street
Daniel von Gerk

As he returned from the doctor's office, were no doctor was, he wanted to go into his store again to make an Grand-Father Clock for one of his customers, but as he approached it he saw an scary Clownman going to the Cargo. Quickly his Apathy rose to an decent amount, he didn't care if an man robbed Fell's Cargo but he did care if he robbed the Clock Store, the e was there again because he found some nails on the ground but that's not the point, he had mixed feelings if he should crack some jokes into the pan, or if he should stop the attacker. Of course being an logical human he decided for the first option, if he should get attacked he still would have his Pepperbox Revolver with 21 barrels inside his hat which he often used as an escape because it was an particular thing that made him fall onto the back.

"Oh No we are being attacked by an...an... what is this even...? Yeah well I know this is supposed to be an clown but I need more explanation why it is exactly an clown."

He said to an panicked looking man beside him, who hasn't taken this situation with so much humour.

"Hey You ." He said to the Man masked as an clown " Is it already Pay Day for you? I mean... well... I need to.... go I forgot to feed the piano!"

So he rushed of into the store hanging a small sign reading: <Closed until further notice> eventhough he can make jokes in alot of situations it wasn't his duty to anger a man with an gun. So he started to fill out his Delivery Formular with which he could buy the needed Clocktower Parts, beside the Formular was an abomination of a watch. He one day passed out to find out that he bit a snake to death and created an watch out of it, which now laid beside him.

[American Pere Housh]

A Certain House, Main Street, East Zilch
Djingles

"There, just a bit more and... done!"

A triumphant grin on his face, Djingles stood up and admired his creation. It was a wooden mask, painted to resemble the make-up of a clown. This was the 5th and final mask that Djingles had been laboring for the entire week to produce.

Heh, now I just gotta let this thing dry, then it's off to distributing them around, he thought to himself. The plan was to give away these masks to the townsfolk as a sort of advertisement for his clown act, which was an admittedly smart move to make. While he could sell the masks and make some money, Djingles decided that giving them away for free was the smarter move for now, for he needed all the good attention he could take.

While waiting for the mask to dry, Djingles decided to reflect for a bit on his current life on East Zilch. It had not been too long ago, three months to be precise, since he had arrive at this small town in the middle of nowhere. An aspiring clown could have traveled somewhere else, a larger town perhaps, but Djingles knew there was competition there, and from far better established clowns too. Thus, he had to start somewhere small, and it was East Zilch he chose. If he could build up his confidence and talent here, he would have more courage to go to the larger cities. But so far, despite his self-proclaimed talent, he was going nowhere.

It wasn't that the townsfolk didn't hire him, oh no. He had done plenty of work in East Zilch, but it wasn't the work he wanted. He remembered his first job, when he walked up to a certain rich merchant and asked if he could perform as a clown for the merchant's daughter's birthday party. Instead, he ended up a bodyguard in charge of watching over the merchant's store while the party was ongoing. Impressed that no one tried to rob the store, the merchant began hiring him on a regular basis, and soon everyone who could afford his services was paying him a visit. He was soon guarding stores and homes, acting as a chauffeur, and at one point even became a debt collector on behalf of a moneylender.

Lots of bodyguard work, no clown activities. All because of my looks. Allowing himself to sigh, he walked over to a table where the other four masks were laid. Picking up one, he put it on and began practicing his clown work, dreaming of the day when he would finally be allowed to perform.

Then he suddenly heard a commotion outside, and someone was shouting really loudly. Wondering what the heck was happening (and excited that something new was happening in this sleepy town for once), he rushed out of the house, forgetting that his mask was still on.

Thus, there was a big scary man, wearing a mask, approaching the caravan.

Troy told the shotgunner, "Sir are you trying to make me go deaf?" He sees out of the corner of his eyes a man with a black mask come rushing out of a home. Not knowing what the man's intentions are, he draws his Colt .44 revolver faster than the blinking eye,"Hold it right there mister. Don't come one step closer or I will shoot you. Now who are you and what are your intentions here?" All this was said with a slight Southern accent.

[Talchyon]

Main Street
Tater Frye

Tater asked, "What's goin' on here, Miss Sarah? And who are these folks?"

Sarah Stein knew Tater Frye well enough. He stopped by at her saloon sometimes, usually with his comr— compatriot Buckaroo. But where was Buck? Oh well, Sarah had a lot of things to tell Frye before asking him about his fellow cowhand.

"Apparently, Mr. Frye, a load of Fells Cargo wagons showed up carryin' a heck ton a gold. Them horses pullin' those wagons don't look so good, an' we need a man good with horses to go check them out. You're good with horses, so I went to get you. I don't hold with those big gold wagons coming to our town, people'll get killed over them. So where's Buckaroo? You're always with him. Where's 'e now?"

As Sarah talked, she walked over to the wagons and the horses and the bars of gold. But, as it turns out, she didn't need to talk at all, as the shotgun rider had explained everything already, in a loud tone of voice, too. It was louder than even Miss Stein could shout on a good day.

Sarah grumbled, not even listening to Tater Frye's answer. It was like the shotgun rider didn't know what sort of time period he was in. His loud voice would attract every bandit in Texas! And that was when Sarah realized that she had been just as crazy too, vaulting over the counter to wail about the wagons like she had hysteria. Sarah felt something she hadn't in a long time—regret.

Tater was astonished that the Fells Cargo wagons were carrying so much gold! Why, that was more gold than the West had ever seen at once. Definitely more gold than he had ever seen in his own lifetime. Just think how many teeth dentists could make out of that and replace ones that had fallen out due to no responsibility of their own - like, if the cow you were trying to herd bumped you into a tree by accident. And if Tater was astonished at the amount of gold the wagons were carrying, he was even more astonished at the human resource processes that led the Fells Cargo company to hire the hard of hearing and loud-volumed shotgun rider who announced this fact to the whole town. Or should he be called a 'shoutgun' rider? A good question, but for now Tater had other things to do.

He stepped up to the man. "I know horses. I'll take a look at her." The man agreed - in the same volume as before - so after Tater covered his ears and tried to stop the ringing in them, took a look at the limping beast.

"Yep. Her leg is broken. She's going to need a splint, and to rest. This horse ain't gonna be pullin yer wagons any time soon." Which meant, no doubt the Fells Cargo company would want to buy a new horse and trade off their wounded. That made Tater gulp and hope they didn't try to strike a deal with him. He'd hate to sell his horse for one that had a broken leg, but it would be the gentlemanly thing to do...

Tater also said to Miss Sarah with a look of dismay at the mention of Buck. So he whispered to her, not wanting the news to spread. "Oh, Miss Sarah. It's awful. The sheriff had to arrest Buck. He didn't want to, but he had to. Buck's wanted for murder!"

[Pax Nerdvana]

Johan Zimmermann
Johan was out in his shop, which was attached to his house on First Street, building stools, which were quite popular in East Zilch for some reason, when he heard shouting and a commotion coming from Main Street. His eldest son was helping him. Johan said,"Jakob, stay here. I'm going to go see what's going on over on Main."
Jakob nodded, and said,"Yes, Pa." Johan grabbed his toolbox, and hurriedly threw in a claw hammer, a square, his brace and bit, jack plane, handsaw, and a ruler. He walked over to Main street, where he saw several wagons stopped in the middle of the street. The guy riding shotgun was yelling about how they were haulin' gold, and the Marshall was talkin' to him. Johan approached the wagon, and said,"What's broken? I'm a carpenter."
John Westwood
John dropped a few coins on the bar, for his drinks, just as he heard someone on the wagon yelling about fifty gold bars, so he went outside the saloon to check it out, because that was more then he had ever managed to find. He saw the Marshall go for his gun. Instinctively, John's hand dropped to the grip of his Colt Dragoon, sensing a threat. He said,"What's the pro-" and then saw the masked man approaching. He said,"Not good. That looks like one of the strange creatures I saw up in th' mountains. "

[Voxija]

Tater also said to Miss Sarah with a look of dismay at the mention of Buck. So he whispered to her, not wanting the news to spread. "Oh, Miss Sarah. It's awful. The sheriff had to arrest Buck. He didn't want to, but he had to. Buck's wanted for murder!"

Honestly, Sarah Stein was horrified. Buckaroo'd never murder anyone! The biggest trouble he's ever caused as asking for "saw-key" in the saloon, whatever that was. Sarah knew Tater didn't want the news to be spread, so she didn't shout it out to everyone.

Sarah Stein looked at Westwood and Frye and Zimmermann and Eichmann and decided the situation was all under control. She went back into her saloon to serve the customers that must have been waiting desperately for her to serve drinks. Sure, there was this big masked man there, but he looked like a clown. Sarah'd seen and read about much worse than clowns in her quarter century.

"Sorry 'bout the commotion outside!" Stein shouted to the very few cowboys still in the bar.

[Danubian Peoples]

NOTE: WIL EDIT OR REDACT POST IF NECESSARY.
Main Street, East Zilch
Billy With the Kid

Main Street, East Zilch
Billy With the Kid

Billy's face boiled a hot red with fury. Here she was, being threatened with force, and she had the gall to comment on Billy's goat husbandry skills? "I'll have 'ya know here that Jimmy here has single-handedly taken out several dozen 'Messican soldiers a few years back, and I ain't afraid to make 'im do the same to 'ya. So knock off the nonsense, Missy Little-rack, and SCRAM! Scram I tell 'ya! Get outta my waayyy...."

Billy halted speech mid-sentence, his words turning into a long, monotonous drawl as he turned his head to meet the object of his current desire. "Right there, Jimmy. The ones with wheels, just as I said. And it appears they're owned by the guvmint? Maybe, maybe this ain't as unillegal as I initially imagined.." Billy sniffed the air in anticipation, only for his head to suddenly swivel back to Charlotte!

"Wait, then this means there ain't time left! We've gotta act fast, Jimmy! Get Dum Gin outta here, and plan out our huntin' mission right now!" Billy momentarily pauses to grab some breaths. "Oh right, Little-rack. Where we again? Ah, yes. Scram 'ya idiot scram! Get away from Mister Dum Gin right this instant, because I ain't afraid to use Jimmy on 'ya whatsoever! Nevermind the fact that Jimmy is currently behind me..because he can destroy 'ya from over there too!"

Billy tried to threaten the lass, but Charlotte stood silent, an eye roll or two perhaps sent Billy's way. It was clear to the old coot that this lady was not taking him very seriously. His fists began to shudder, his boots shake; he was mad. The fury builds. Billy visibly shakes, waves of movement running up and down his body. Both arms are put up against his wrinkled face. The shaking halts. He sighs. Jimmy trots a few steps back. Both hands return to Billy's sides. Billy grits his teeth, showing off a pair of dentures. His wrinkles become highly pronounced, every groove on his face deepening tenfold. His eyes seem to grow several sizes, and his ears seem to flail like a donkey's. What little hair he has on his head stands stiff like tall trees. His right hand is raised again this time pointed towards his visage. At last, he speaks.

"Y'know, I took these dentures with a knife, from the gums of an old and wisened military man... he said my knife looked pretty neat and traded in his fake teeth for it. As for you, Missus, since 'ya clearly can't be bothered to respect your elders and your betters, I suppose I'll be on my way then! 'Pologies Mr. Dum Gin, but my, criminal duties call."

With that, the old man swivels back and strides back to his dwelling with a brisk pace. Jimmy walks by, his horizontal pupils showing perplexion toward Billy. Either that or a desire for more jacket. Probably the latter, if we're being frank. Regardless, the two continue moving back towards Billy's place.

---

Billy's Place
East Zilch

When they arrive, Billy opens the door and steps into his dwelling, his rock-laden boots stomping onto one of those dirt-cheap welcome carpets. He immediately bursts into action as he rushes back to his table, this time to formulate what Billy thinks will be one of the greatest robberies East Zilch has ever seen..

"So Jimmy, it appears that we won't be havin' any pardners for this job.. No matter, we've always got each other on these dangerous heists! Now, surveying the situation, the guvmint bears've been stopped here at Main Street." exclaims Billy, finger pointed towards a crude representation of Main Street on an equally crude map. "One of the bear-pullin' horses seems to have broken its leg. Considering my experience with the animal, the injury should heal within.. a 'couple days, give or take."

Jimmy lets out a questioning bleat. Billy grunts in response. "My facts are a hundred and two percent true and factual! Gosh dangit Jimmy," he says, turning to his goat, "What has gotten into 'ya today! *Indiscriminate grumbling sounds* Returning to our heist plans, since we ain't got no allies on this one, lemme go over the plan. We strike when the sun is down. First, you bite at the bear's heels, incapacitating 'em and allowing me to deliver the killin' blow usin' this sharp.. these sharp dentures of course! Once they're down, We'll go in and tear into these bears with our bare hands!"

Jimmy lets out yet another bleat, this time interpreted by Billy is approving. "I knew you'd come around, pardner. Now, what to do while we wait... Any chance 'yer up for a game of cards?"

[Stollberg-Stolberg]

Professors Home,
Sigmund von Schoppenhauer

The Professor, who now was mostly buried under his books, woke up after the Stress of moving to East Zilch. He looked one final times and indeed the Area around East Zilch was full of Copper and Zinc, like an Duck filled with Christmas Stuffing. Well not so full but profitable enough to keep the mines open for about 25 Years, and it would create more jobs but the problem would be that no major body of Water was near East Zilch but he knows that the nearest River was Pecos River. But it wasn´t to his importance right now, he still needed to introduce himself to more people in this little town or was it an village? He didn´t study English studies because it wasn´t needed in Bavaria... or anywhere in Central Europa, but why do you even need English Studies if you can beginn studying Cryptozoology?

The first thing he did after waking up was freeing himself from the books, after that he made himself some coffee which he could drink in an minute. Because the Coffee-Time was short and heared screaming outside, he opened the Windows of his House. Right then he noticed the Hounds didn´t obey the normal Physics! You could say that this was nitpickingbut it actually was an horror for an trained Physics and Geography Professor, he didn´t even seemed slightly concered of the Man in Clownmask now he started to get Angry and started yelling outside.

"Hey what are the Wagonhounds doing?! They are not supposed to work when they are made like that the Physics dont align! I wont accept this crepe, this is not correct! Arghhht what is this? Oof what an screaming I need to stop, my Heart wont survive this if I keep going..."

He started to go down his stairs to go to the Bar, now an glass of Alcohol would be appropriate since he needed an light pain reliever. He was strongly against other drugs used as pain killers without any other thougts about the consiquences of them. As he opened the door he ignored anything around him, he was actually quite good at it, it wasn´t an full Tunnelvision but it wasn´t an full Daydreaming Thing. After he arived at the Bar he tried to speak to order something from the Barkeeper but he had an very quiet Voice when he was around lots of People, but the only thing that was understandable was "Federweisser or Absinth?" or the word of "Please" the Please he said alot of times. After all Quote: "Which great Story didn´t start without an Glass of Alcohol."

[Voxija]

He started to go down his stairs to go to the Bar, now an glass of Alcohol would be appropriate since he needed an light pain reliever. He was strongly against other drugs used as pain killers without any other thougts about the consiquences of them. As he opened the door he ignored anything around him, he was actually quite good at it, it wasn´t an full Tunnelvision but it wasn´t an full Daydreaming Thing. After he arived at the Bar he tried to speak to order something from the Barkeeper but he had an very quiet Voice when he was around lots of People, but the only thing that was understandable was "Federweisser or Absinth?" or the word of "Please" the Please he said alot of times. After all Quote: "Which great Story didn´t start without an Glass of Alcohol."

Sarah Stein had just got to her usual place, so she could service Professor Von Schoppenhauer. But she couldn't hear his order. All she heard was mumbles, so Sarah couldn't know what he wanted. But the fellow sounded German, so Sarah would serve her specialty. Sure, Germany wasn't a country, but her opa had ranted about wanting it to be so.

"Sorry, Mister. We don't serve Feather-whiter or absinthe around here. Absinthe doesn't even guve hallucinations, anyway. At least, that's what I heard from a poet who stayed here once. New guy, huh? I'd like to recommend my specialty, Beer Stein. Sounds familiar? I'm sure any of the men in this town can attest to the effectiveness of Beer Stein. You might be new to the West, but if you wanna stay in this here town, you better get used to rough drinks and rough livin'."

Sarah took a deep breath and brought out a stein of Beer Stein. A classic stein, brought from the Stein ancestral land in the Old Country to South Carolina to East Zilch. Sarah wondered what the German professor would think about it.

[Stollberg-Stolberg]

Sarah Stein had just got to her usual place, so she could service Professor Von Schoppenhauer. But she couldn't hear his order. All she heard was mumbles, so Sarah couldn't know what he wanted. But the fellow sounded German, so Sarah would serve her specialty. Sure, Germany wasn't a country, but her opa had ranted about wanting it to be so.

"Sorry, Mister. We don't serve Feather-whiter or absinthe around here. Absinthe doesn't even guve hallucinations, anyway. At least, that's what I heard from a poet who stayed here once. New guy, huh? I'd like to recommend my specialty, Beer Stein. Sounds familiar? I'm sure any of the men in this town can attest to the effectiveness of Beer Stein. You might be new to the West, but if you wanna stay in this here town, you better get used to rough drinks and rough livin'."

Sarah took a deep breath and brought out a stein of Beer Stein. A classic stein, brought from the Stein ancestral land in the Old Country to South Carolina to East Zilch. Sarah wondered what the German professor would think about it.

He looked at the Beer inside the Jug, awaiting to see anything unordinary. But it looked like normal Beer from Bavaria, except that it was a tad bit darker, after his inspection he first only took a sip and smiled. The Beer was good he hadn´t expected that because America has no "Reinheitsgebot" for Beer unlike all the other German States, which he knew started in the Year of 1516. Drinking the Beer in one sip ,he thought, was not used at this place that is why he devided it in 3 gulps, anting some stronger Alcohol he asked in an now understandable voice.

"That Beer was great and I thank you for that, but I would like something stronger." *He looked around on the Drink Menu* "That thing called 'Devils Blood' sounds good could I order one, Please? Oh and also I heard your name was Stein, from which part of Germany were you or your Parents? I only ask because I once had a Student named Stein, a brilliant man asked me alot about the Chemistry of Beer, I mean he would be better of with the Chemistry and not the Geography Professor but who cares? Anyway he had passed University about 40 Years ago?, I was only teaching 5 years at that point and he flew into my memory again just now. But... my second Question is if you once saw lights in the sky, because on my trip here in the night an Paranormal event happend where flashing lights danced in the sky and made beams onto the Ground some miles away from here, thats the reason I started to study Cryptozoology."

He shuddered thinking he would be denounced as crazy but right as he wanted to calm down he heard a *Ponk* behind him then he turned around only to see someone drunk lying on the floor. Now that he knew where the noise came from he waited for an answer.

[Voxija]

"That Beer was great and I thank you for that, but I would like something stronger." *He looked around on the Drink Menu* "That thing called 'Devils Blood' sounds good could I order one, Please? Oh and also I heard your name was Stein, from which part of Germany were you or your Parents? I only ask because I once had a Student named Stein, a brilliant man asked me alot about the Chemistry of Beer, I mean he would be better of with the Chemistry and not the Geography Professor but who cares? Anyway he had passed University about 40 Years ago?, I was only teaching 5 years at that point and he flew into my memory again just now. But... my second Question is if you once saw lights in the sky, because on my trip here in the night an Paranormal event happend where flashing lights danced in the sky and made beams onto the Ground some miles away from here, thats the reason I started to study Cryptozoology."

He shuddered thinking he would be denounced as crazy but right as he wanted to calm down he heard a *Ponk* behind him then he turned around only to see someone drunk lying on the floor. Now that he knew where the noise came from he waited for an answer.

"Sure, you can have my Devil's Blood," Sarah Stein replied. "But be warned, its effects are different for every person. One man who tried it began thinkin' he was a flower and dug himself a hole in the ground." Sarah liked the professor. Here was a man who could hold his liquor.

But then... Sarah almost laughed. "German? Me? I'm an American! It's my opa who's German. He was from Bavaria, a long time ago. He came to America round near 1800, to make his fortune you see, and brought his beer skills with him. You might have known one of his brothers, he had many. My papa was born in South Carolina, and so was I. I'm German enough to make some good beer, or at least I hope so."

Sarah said all of the sentences except the first three exclamations in a very quiet tone of voice, so only Von Schoppenhauer could hear. She also didn't mention her religion. Her grandfather was German, sure, but he didn't leave Germany just to make a fortune in America.

"Fancy lights. Feh. I never seen anything like that in all my years here." Sarah remembered an old coot, she didn't remember his name, talkin' 'bout flashin' lights too. Sarah Stein felt like a professor wouldn't lie about things like that, so her thoughts turned to wonderin' if the lights were actually real.

[Luna Amore]

"Sure, you can have my Devil's Blood," Sarah Stein replied. "But be warned, its effects are different for every person. One man who tried it began thinkin' he was a flower and dug himself a hole in the ground." Sarah liked the professor. Here was a man who could hold his liquor.

But then... Sarah almost laughed. "German? Me? I'm an American! It's my opa who's German. He was from Bavaria, a long time ago. He came to America round near 1800, to make his fortune you see, and brought his beer skills with him. You might have known one of his brothers, he had many. My papa was born in South Carolina, and so was I. I'm German enough to make some good beer, or at least I hope so."

Sarah said all of the sentences except the first three exclamations in a very quiet tone of voice, so only Von Schoppenhauer could hear. She also didn't mention her religion. Her grandfather was German, sure, but he didn't leave Germany just to make a fortune in America.

"Fancy lights. Feh. I never seen anything like that in all my years here." Sarah remembered an old coot, she didn't remember his name, talkin' 'bout flashin' lights too. Sarah Stein felt like a professor wouldn't lie about things like that, so her thoughts turned to wonderin' if the lights were actually real.

Sigmund was not surprised that she had some German Ancestry, the beer was just too good to be from any other part of Europe, and the name was also a dead giveaway. Now having an small Glass full of Devils Blood he needed to gulp it , because he thought that anyone else had tried it, drinking the Glass he felt his face getting red and his feet started to make an song.

"Köstlich..." He said coughing a bit. "Delicious it is and strong too Hoh.... Great. Also I have only seen 5-6 people outside and I only know one it is Mr. Potato (Referring to Tater Frie) or was it his name I can't really remember it..."

[The republic ofTexas and northern Mexico]

Juan swayne hitched up his horse at the hitching post after he had finally finished getting into town, which had been delayed considerably after his horse went crazy and drug him 80 miles away from town, and went into the saloon and immediately got drunk and started juggling loaded pistols and accidentally shot holes in the tables

[Talchyon]

Main Street
Tater Frye

Concerned with the injured horse, Tater was more or less oblivious to the fact that the marshall had drawn his gun and was pointing it at the masked man in black slowly coming towards them. So when Miss Sarah went back inside to her establishment, Tater tried his best to look for a splint or something they could use to help stabilize the poor horse's broken leg. But alas. Main Street in East Zilch was not usually the place to find spare horse splints, and today was not one of those rare exception days.

Just then, as he was looking around, his eye caught the marshall's drawn weapon. Tater's eyes grew huge. His mama had always warned him about shooting matches on Main Street. He had never believed her, thinking those were old Western wives' tales that had no basis in fact. But here, before his very eyes, the marshall was about to make that old wives' tale a modern accounting of gunfire, blood, and destruction!

Gulping, Tater asked the marshall, "Marshall? Can you put your gun away? At least long enough for the women and children to get out of the street, and the rest of us to find some kind of cover lest this mysterious stranger is a really awful shot?"

About that time, Tater also noticed another stranger ride into town, seemingly oblivious to the marshall's drawn weapon. The stranger hitched his horse, went into Miss Sarah's, and Tater turned his attention back to the marshall and the masked man in black. That was always a sign that someone had evil intentions, when they had a black hat and wore a mask. You have that fashion style, and people are likely to think yer a bandit!

But when gunshots were heard inside Miss Sarah's, Tater's already huge eyes got even huger, as he ducked for cover, not knowing if anyone inside was firing at them. "Marshall! Someone's shooting in Miss Sarah's! Help us, please! Tell him to come out with his hands up - preferably without the guns in his hand, if you please."

---

Mayor Slick's office
Beaux Lagged

The French fur-trapper was saddened at the news that the cost of establishing a business in East Zilch was so expensive. He didn't have hardly anything saved up. And something was telling him that this mayor wouldn't accept a trade in kind of any of the furs he had as a downpayment.

So with that in mind, Beaux stormed out of the mayor's office, cursing in French. Of all the low-down, English-type despicable things to do! It seemed unfair. Surely not any other business in town had this preposterous payment of hundreds of dollars to set up shop in East Zilch! Beaux spoke to himself, a little louder than normal, "Eeet ees an outRAGE!"

Beaux was surprised to see the scene on Main Street when he exited. First, the several stage coaches stuck in the middle of Main Street got his attention, with some townspeople onlooking and at least one trying to heal a horse. One man was dragging another man away. What looked to be a law officer had his gun drawn, and he was pointing the other direction. So Beaux turned and saw the masked man in black, and was puzzled. Just then, shots were fired down the street a few blocks. Beaux was wary. "What ees thees?," he asked himself. Walking up to the man who was dragging the other man away from the scene and towards him, (who conveniently happened to be closest, since the doctor's clinic was next door to the mayor's office), Beaux asked the man doing the dragging the other, "What ees gohing ohn een thees town?" Then, looking down at the body he was dragging, Beaux was astonished to see the doctor who had spoken to him in French earlier! "What happeeened to ze doctieur? Ees he injieured?"

[Stollberg-Stolberg]

Main Street
Daniel von Gerk

Mayor Slick's office
Beaux Lagged

The French fur-trapper was saddened at the news that the cost of establishing a business in East Zilch was so expensive. He didn't have hardly anything saved up. And something was telling him that this mayor wouldn't accept a trade in kind of any of the furs he had as a downpayment.

So with that in mind, Beaux stormed out of the mayor's office, cursing in French. Of all the low-down, English-type despicable things to do! It seemed unfair. Surely not any other business in town had this preposterous payment of hundreds of dollars to set up shop in East Zilch! Beaux spoke to himself, a little louder than normal, "Eeet ees an outRAGE!"

Beaux was surprised to see the scene on Main Street when he exited. First, the several stage coaches stuck in the middle of Main Street got his attention, with some townspeople onlooking and at least one trying to heal a horse. One man was dragging another man away. What looked to be a law officer had his gun drawn, and he was pointing the other direction. So Beaux turned and saw the masked man in black, and was puzzled. Just then, shots were fired down the street a few blocks. Beaux was wary. "What ees thees?," he asked himself. Walking up to the man who was dragging the other man away from the scene and towards him, (who conveniently happened to be closest, since the doctor's clinic was next door to the mayor's office), Beaux asked the man doing the dragging the other, "What ees gohing ohn een thees town?" Then, looking down at the body he was dragging, Beaux was astonished to see the doctor who had spoken to him in French earlier! "What happeeened to ze doctieur? Ees he injieured?"

Daniel who noticed the Man just now had wondered where the Doctor was, as it turned out he was dragging him. But he also had some questions but his back had started to hurt again.

"Oh mein Kreuz... do you know where the Doctors office is? If he really is the Doctor as you said then we need more help, I found him by the Wagons lying there on the floor looked like heat Syncope to me but I am not an Doctor, and I don't know where the Doctors is..."

He inspected the Strange man who hadn't even break into a sweat with all the Leathers on him, so he was pretty much impressed and said: "Also what is your name Mister Minister?"

[Zjaum]

Donald Coyote de la Rancha

The hot sun beat down upon the streets of East Zilch. The ruddy, unpaved roadways bore the weight of a horse and a pony. Donald had hoped for a clip-clop as the two approached the mayor's office, but the United States let him down once again. "What a shame. A lord is supposed to care for his people. While the Lord Mayor lives in riches, the streets aren't even cobbled!"
"Um, sir, I don't think anyone here lives in-"
"Sound the horn, Pedro."
Pedro shrugged and pulled out a bugle. It was dingy and beat-up but supposedly made in Spain. The loyal servant blew and blew, but no sound came out.
"Hand that over!" announced the Coyote. He stuck the lance underneath his armpit to free it up for the added duty. Donald seized the metal scrap and blew until his face was red, to the same effect. Light-headed, overheated and spent, he fell off his horse, bumping is head and carrying himself to the land of Nod.

A crowd had gathered to watch him return to consciousness. He looked around with a mild stupor before clearing his expression. "Oh, yes, right!" Donald stood up. "Now that I have an audience, I would like to declare my intention! Everyone who is interested in the fate and salvation of East Zilch, please follow!"
He stuck his foot up to mount the saddle. He tried a few times, but his arm and legs didn't have the strength to lift him up and over. "Hey, Pedro, would you like to take the horse?"
Pedro's eyes sparkled. "Would I!"
"But I get the nice, comfortable saddle."
"Ugh, fine..."
They switched saddles, still with everyone watching. Donald mounted the pony. "Hyah!"
The pony groaned under the extra weight, what with the armor and lance and all. Still, the equine did its duty, taking its temporary master up to the mayor's office. Donald looked around. "I say, doesn't the mayor have a coat of arms?"
"I don't think so."
"A city seal, then?"
"Sir, it's a backwater Texas town."
"But I have nothing to direct my spear as an insult, then!"
Pedro looked around, and then pointed to a mailbox. "Ah, good work, by loyal servant!" announced the knight.
The Coyote thrust his lance into the open mailbox, skewering several pieces of mail with it. He waved the envelopes' corpses in front of the office windows. "Hello in there! Attention! I am Donald Coyote of the Rancha, here to bring culture and honor to these streets once again! I challenge you to a duel! If I win, I have your daughter's hand in marriage, and I gain control of the city, claiming it on behalf of Madre España! If I lose, you will have my horse and armor!"
"Uh, sir, you never said anything about a daughter..."
Donald looked up at his servant. "Oh, I think it adds a personal touch, don't you think? Puts some stakes in the game." He clenched his fist and flashed a smile to emphasize his point.
"Yes, but you can't have the mayor's daughter as a boon."
"Ah, I see! She must be right hideous, then!" Donald turned back to the mayor's office and called out in a loud voice. "Attention! The terms have changed! If I win, I become the Don of East Zilch, claiming it on behalf of Tia Catalunya! If I lose, I will have your daughter's hand in marriage!"
"No, but the mayor doesn't have-"
"My servant thinks that you don't have the guts to come down and fight me! Prove him wrong, señor don!" He turned his pony around in a circle, lance pointed skyward, trying to drum up support from the people of East Zilch.
The herald called after. "If you have a niece, that works, too!"

[Voxija]

Juan swayne hitched up his horse at the hitching post after he had finally finished getting into town, which had been delayed considerably after his horse went crazy and drug him 80 miles away from town, and went into the saloon and immediately got drunk and started juggling loaded pistols and accidentally shot holes in the tables

The man who had just walked into Sarah Stein's saloon looked like a mal hombre to be sure. Or was it hombre mal? Sarah couldn't speak Spanish. When he pulled out his guns, Sarah got peeved. When he started shooting the tables, Sarah got really peeved. She was going to have to pay for the damage out of her own money! The nerve of that guy!

Sarah ignored the German suffering the effects of Devil's Blood (a sentence I'll probably never write again) and pulled a knife out of her left boot. A thing few people knew about Sarah Stein was that she was really good with a knife. But Sarah rarely felt the need or even want to use it. Until now.

Sarah looked closer at the man. Nope, he had guns. If Sarah tried to threaten him with a knife, he'll use his guns, and Sarah had heard once to never bring a knife to a gun fight. And he looked drunk. It'll definitely turn into a gun fight. A drunken gun fight. Those never end well.

Sarah Stein proved her worth. She snuck out of her saloon through a back door. Best not to be there when the shootin' starts. Hopefully Stein wouldn't have to pay insurance. And besides, her stock of Devil's Blood was runnin' low. She needed to gather ingredients. At least, that was her excuse.

[Castelia]

A Certain House, Main Street, East Zilch
Djingles

As he approached the wagons, curious for a look, Djingles now found himself in a dangerous predicament. A stranger was pointing a gun at him! Even worse, he didn't know who this man was, or what his intentions were. Quickly stopping and then putting his hands high up into the air, Djingles quickly made a gesture of surrender.

"Hey, you, I'm just-"

Then he heard the shots.

"Aggghh! Help! I've been shot!" Understandably mistaking the resulting mini-heart attack for a gunshot wound, Djingles cried out and fell onto the ground with a thump. Landing on his back, he writhed and rolled and thrashed about, kicking up a mini dust storm as he went. By this time, the mask had already been wrenched free from his face, revealing his identity for the town to discover.

"Oh, mercy! Mercy! I've fallen and I can't get up! Please, call a doctor!"

[Stollberg-Stolberg]

Main Street
Sigmund von Schoppenhauer

As Sigmung walked out of the Saloon he faced an certain Scene on the Mainstreet, he still had an smile because of the Devils Blood and an Bullethole in his Hat from the Stranger. Looking around he had no smile anymore, no amount of Devils Blood could make him smile now, before and behind him laid Scenes. Behind him an Drunk Person shoots holes into the Tables and Bottles, the Saloon Owner left and an Hord of Drunk Men were dancing the Thriller to get more ingredients, behind the counter was an mess since the Drunk one shot a bottle full of red liquid from an Shelf onto the floor. To his right he still saw these Wagons from hell were the Physics dont align, someone makes an dust Cloud and is whining and Mister Potato [refering to Tater Frye] was trying to heal an Horse. To his left he saw an man talking to another man clothed in Fur´s and Leathers, beneath them lied another man as he could not imagine an even crazier scene to see a bunch of UFO´s attack East Zilch! in front of him were someone dressed as an Inconquista was making an mess with the Mail and was yelling at the Mayors office, this man was of course sitting on an Pony. As he looked into the distance he saw an bright red Wagon just standing there... menacingly! He looked like the person you would try to calm down but fail, right now.

"Alright then, de Crepe is happening here? No really Wah?"

[Voxija]

Sarah Stein was squashing a variety of unknown fruits in a barrel using her feet when she decided to see what was going on on Main Street. Leaving her saloon patrons to the drunken mercy of Juan Swayne, Sarah ventured out to answer her question.

The saloon lady gamboled onto the street, sayin' "Well, what's happenin—" when she froze in her tracks. What made Sarah freeze in her tracks? Not the rodeo clown on the floor. Not the US Marshal pointing his gun at him. But it was the medieval soldier-looking dude. It reminded Sarah Stein of the Spanish Inquisition. She didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition. Not at this particular juncture.

The Spanish Inquisition! When Sarah was a wee little thing, her mom hadn't told her about the bogeyman. No, Sarah had been raised on stories of the frightful Spanish Inquisition. How they might drag you from your bed and torture you and burn you for being a witch and expel you from your country and gas... wait. Wrong nightmare. What Sarah Stein had remembered from that was the Inquisition was bad news.

Sarah tried to calm down. Perhaps he was merely a cosplayer! Or a historical reenacting person! But if if he was what Stein thought he was, that meant the Spanish Inquisition was a-comin' her way. The Inquisition would not take kindly to a lady bartender, especially one who makes such concoctions as "Devil's Blood" or "[BLEEP]ing [BLEEP]". Yep, Stein was gonna have to get the heck away. And so she did, without even wonderin' if she was overreactin'.

As Sarah slipped back into her bar, she hoped the Spanish soldier man didn't notice her. Sarah grabbed her knife (she left it on the countertop! How idiotic!) and prepared to go after Juan Swayne with it. A drunken, mean-lookin' cowboy was just a test run compared with the Spanish Inquisition.

[American Pere Housh]

Donald Coyote de la Rancha

The hot sun beat down upon the streets of East Zilch. The ruddy, unpaved roadways bore the weight of a horse and a pony. Donald had hoped for a clip-clop as the two approached the mayor's office, but the United States let him down once again. "What a shame. A lord is supposed to care for his people. While the Lord Mayor lives in riches, the streets aren't even cobbled!"
"Um, sir, I don't think anyone here lives in-"
"Sound the horn, Pedro."
Pedro shrugged and pulled out a bugle. It was dingy and beat-up but supposedly made in Spain. The loyal servant blew and blew, but no sound came out.
"Hand that over!" announced the Coyote. He stuck the lance underneath his armpit to free it up for the added duty. Donald seized the metal scrap and blew until his face was red, to the same effect. Light-headed, overheated and spent, he fell off his horse, bumping is head and carrying himself to the land of Nod.

A crowd had gathered to watch him return to consciousness. He looked around with a mild stupor before clearing his expression. "Oh, yes, right!" Donald stood up. "Now that I have an audience, I would like to declare my intention! Everyone who is interested in the fate and salvation of East Zilch, please follow!"
He stuck his foot up to mount the saddle. He tried a few times, but his arm and legs didn't have the strength to lift him up and over. "Hey, Pedro, would you like to take the horse?"
Pedro's eyes sparkled. "Would I!"
"But I get the nice, comfortable saddle."
"Ugh, fine..."
They switched saddles, still with everyone watching. Donald mounted the pony. "Hyah!"
The pony groaned under the extra weight, what with the armor and lance and all. Still, the equine did its duty, taking its temporary master up to the mayor's office. Donald looked around. "I say, doesn't the mayor have a coat of arms?"
"I don't think so."
"A city seal, then?"
"Sir, it's a backwater Texas town."
"But I have nothing to direct my spear as an insult, then!"
Pedro looked around, and then pointed to a mailbox. "Ah, good work, by loyal servant!" announced the knight.
The Coyote thrust his lance into the open mailbox, skewering several pieces of mail with it. He waved the envelopes' corpses in front of the office windows. "Hello in there! Attention! I am Donald Coyote of the Rancha, here to bring culture and honor to these streets once again! I challenge you to a duel! If I win, I have your daughter's hand in marriage, and I gain control of the city, claiming it on behalf of Madre España! If I lose, you will have my horse and armor!"
"Uh, sir, you never said anything about a daughter..."
Donald looked up at his servant. "Oh, I think it adds a personal touch, don't you think? Puts some stakes in the game." He clenched his fist and flashed a smile to emphasize his point.
"Yes, but you can't have the mayor's daughter as a boon."
"Ah, I see! She must be right hideous, then!" Donald turned back to the mayor's office and called out in a loud voice. "Attention! The terms have changed! If I win, I become the Don of East Zilch, claiming it on behalf of Tia Catalunya! If I lose, I will have your daughter's hand in marriage!"
"No, but the mayor doesn't have-"
"My servant thinks that you don't have the guts to come down and fight me! Prove him wrong, señor don!" He turned his pony around in a circle, lance pointed skyward, trying to drum up support from the people of East Zilch.
The herald called after. "If you have a niece, that works, too!"

Troy glanced over at the idiot who was trying to claim this town for Spain. He begins laughing out loud at the man's stupidity before calming down, "You must be a complete idiot if you think you can claim this town for Spain. This American territory and will stay American territory so unless you wish to be arrested by yours truly for inciting rebellion against the US Government then I suggest you go home immediately."

A Certain House, Main Street, East Zilch
Djingles

As he approached the wagons, curious for a look, Djingles now found himself in a dangerous predicament. A stranger was pointing a gun at him! Even worse, he didn't know who this man was, or what his intentions were. Quickly stopping and then putting his hands high up into the air, Djingles quickly made a gesture of surrender.

"Hey, you, I'm just-"

Then he heard the shots.

"Aggghh! Help! I've been shot!" Understandably mistaking the resulting mini-heart attack for a gunshot wound, Djingles cried out and fell onto the ground with a thump. Landing on his back, he writhed and rolled and thrashed about, kicking up a mini dust storm as he went. By this time, the mask had already been wrenched free from his face, revealing his identity for the town to discover.

"Oh, mercy! Mercy! I've fallen and I can't get up! Please, call a doctor!"

Troy shook his head, "Sir you haven't been shot. Can someone please get a doctor for this man. He apparently thinks he has been shot."

[Zjaum]

Donald Coyote de la Rancha heard:

"This American territory and will stay American territory so unless you wish to be arrested by yours truly for inciting rebellion against the US Government then I suggest you go home immediately."

Donald Coyote thought he heard:

"This American territory and will stay American territory unless you wish to be arrested by yours truly for inciting rebellion against the US Government something something something..."

What a boon he had found! An apparent marshal who was willing to come to his senses regarding his loyalties! In addition, he had given Donald the opportunity to become a martyr for the cause; East Zilch's personal San Esteban! San Donaldo, perhaps?
Regardless, this law enforcement officer had a much closer relation with his national adversary than that of the mayor. It would be far more productive to engage in conversation with him than to wait in vain for a cowardly (not preoccupied, just cowardly) mayor. "Oye, Señor Alcalde!" the Spanish knight announced. "The call to duel is still on! If you have any honor at all, come face me, coward!"
He backed up his pony and trotted towards the marshal. "You have no idea how happy you've made me! Going to jail for the sake of Madre España fulfills my plans, hopes, and dreams so thoroughly." He dismounted, dropped his weapons, and raised his arms together, wrists connected. "Please, take me away!"
Pedro raised his hand in protest and then remembered that he was given authority over the ranch, should anything happen to the master. He nodded and called out. "Yes, his imprisonment would surely benefit us all. Off to prison to do your duty, master!"

[Talchyon]

Main Street, East Zilch
The Fells Cargo men

Johan Zimmermann
Johan was out in his shop, which was attached to his house on First Street, building stools, which were quite popular in East Zilch for some reason, when he heard shouting and a commotion coming from Main Street. His eldest son was helping him. Johan said,"Jakob, stay here. I'm going to go see what's going on over on Main."
Jakob nodded, and said,"Yes, Pa." Johan grabbed his toolbox, and hurriedly threw in a claw hammer, a square, his brace and bit, jack plane, handsaw, and a ruler. He walked over to Main street, where he saw several wagons stopped in the middle of the street. The guy riding shotgun was yelling about how they were haulin' gold, and the Marshall was talkin' to him. Johan approached the wagon, and said,"What's broken? I'm a carpenter."

The men trying to fix the busted wagon wheel were trying to hold themselves together. But it had been a long day already that seemed to fly by like that. And while the sun was still decently high in the afternoon, it wasn't going to stay up there forever. So when Johan Zimmermann the carpenter came up with a nice handy offer, the Fells Cargo men nodded in appreciation. "We got a busted wagon wheel here. With this and the horse with the broken leg? Looks like we're stayin' here tonight. But if yer a carpenter, you might do. Ever fix wheels? If so, we may need you to try to take this busted wheel to your shop and try to fix it up. If we can leave by tomorrow, that would be just swell. We'd pay you, of course."

Main Street
Sigmund von Schoppenhauer

As Sigmung walked out of the Saloon he faced an certain Scene on the Mainstreet, he still had an smile because of the Devils Blood and an Bullethole in his Hat from the Stranger. Looking around he had no smile anymore, no amount of Devils Blood could make him smile now, before and behind him laid Scenes. Behind him an Drunk Person shoots holes into the Tables and Bottles, the Saloon Owner left and an Hord of Drunk Men were dancing the Thriller to get more ingredients, behind the counter was an mess since the Drunk one shot a bottle full of red liquid from an Shelf onto the floor. To his right he still saw these Wagons from hell were the Physics dont align, someone makes an dust Cloud and is whining and Mister Potato [refering to Tater Frye] was trying to heal an Horse. To his left he saw an man talking to another man clothed in Fur´s and Leathers, beneath them lied another man as he could not imagine an even crazier scene to see a bunch of UFO´s attack East Zilch! in front of him were someone dressed as an Inconquista was making an mess with the Mail and was yelling at the Mayors office, this man was of course sitting on an Pony. As he looked into the distance he saw an bright red Wagon just standing there... menacingly! He looked like the person you would try to calm down but fail, right now.

"Alright then, de Crepe is happening here? No really Wah?"

Tater Frye heard the man's question as he was finishing his examination of the horse. He turned to look at the man, distinctly out of place in this place. He was the kind of man that wore a suit and not chaps. Tater wondered who he might be. Tater just called out to him, "Well, feller, these Fells Cargo wagons had a bit of a problem, and kinda broke down. Then, I guess the marshall took care of that bad man in the mask up there, and don't ask me what's happenin' inside Miss Sarah's. There were some gunshots a little bit ago, but there doesn't seem to be anyone hurt, 's'far as I can tell..." Tater purposely tried to ignore the Spaniard who couldn't blow a bugle, got on his horse backwards, and wanted a group to follow him for the salvation of East Zilch. He and the medicine man who had just rolled into town too.

Speaking back to the man in the suit, Tater said, "And forgive me, but yer not from around these parts, are you, mister?"

But as the men with the carpenter were talking, Tater overheard and something crossed over his mind that they needed to know. So he walked up to them. He had been going to tell them the state of their poor horse anyway. But now, there was somethin' else he had to say. A small frown crossed Tater's mouth. He went up to the men, begged their pardon for intruding on their conversation, and then said, "I was coming to tell you about your horse. Leg's broken. She won't be riding any time soon. But I overheard what you were just sayin' about trying to leave tomorrow. And I beg your pardon again, but you do realize that won't work. Today's Saturday. Why, you can't ride off tomorrow. Tomorrow's the Sabbath. No work on the Sabbath day. You need to come to church. We have church tomorrow, and everybody comes. So you're gonna have to come too. We're good Christian folk here. So you're gonna have to wait more than just one day."

Try as they might like to get out of it, it seemed like the town's mind was set. They were going to need to hole up here at least a few nights. And business with the carpenter and the horse owners in town who'd be willing to sell them a new horse might go a lot easier if they sucked it up and went to church the next morning too. Tater told them the time, and then said, "And we've got a really good preacher too. You'll love it."

After exchanging uneasy looks, the men said they'd be there...

---

A little distance away on Main Street
Beaux Lagged

Main Street
Daniel von Gerk

Daniel who noticed the Man just now had wondered where the Doctor was, as it turned out he was dragging him. But he also had some questions but his back had started to hurt again.

"Oh mein Kreuz... do you know where the Doctors office is? If he really is the Doctor as you said then we need more help, I found him by the Wagons lying there on the floor looked like heat Syncope to me but I am not an Doctor, and I don't know where the Doctors is..."

He inspected the Strange man who hadn't even break into a sweat with all the Leathers on him, so he was pretty much impressed and

Troy glanced over at the idiot who was trying to claim this town for Spain. He begins laughing out loud at the man's stupidity before calming down, "You must be a complete idiot if you think you can claim this town for Spain. This American territory and will stay American territory so unless you wish to be arrested by yours truly for inciting rebellion against the US Government then I suggest you go home immediately."

Troy shook his head, "Sir you haven't been shot. Can someone please get a doctor for this man. He apparently thinks he has been shot."

said: "Also what is your name Mister Minister?"

As Daniel spoke, still bent over the passed out doctor he had been dragging, Beaux's mind took in not only what he said, but reading enough between the lines, also took in what he did not say. Beaux was quite skilled at that. However, some people call that 'not listening' and 'putting your own thoughts into someone else's mind.' To Beaux, it was the same thing, just like the difference when someone pronounces it "bléu" and someone else pronounces it "blèu."

The thing that stood out most to the French trapper were the two words in German! "You ahr German? Ahy am French! You Germans zink you have ah ze best choco-late. But we French know that French choc-olate eez better than German chocolate! And eet eez much better zen 'Hersheys' too!"

That said, the trapper said, "Ahy am Beaux Lagged. Ahy am no meeneester. Ahy catch creeatures and sayle zeir hides!

"But alas. Ahy do not know where ze doctieur has hees offeece." Bending down over the doctor, Beaux tried to nudge him awake, hoping that might help. It sounded like there were some people back there who was needing his services. Too bad the doctor himself was also needing his services. The phrase, "Doctor, heal thyself" came to his mind, but Beaux didn't think it was the time.

---

Mayor's office
Mayor Slick

The conversation with the lowly French trapper taken care of, the Machiavellian mayor was going to try to end the conversation with Karen, so he could get back to his ulterior motives.

Only, that wasn't going to happen right away.

Donald Coyote de la Rancha

The hot sun beat down upon the streets of East Zilch. The ruddy, unpaved roadways bore the weight of a horse and a pony. Donald had hoped for a clip-clop as the two approached the mayor's office, but the United States let him down once again. "What a shame. A lord is supposed to care for his people. While the Lord Mayor lives in riches, the streets aren't even cobbled!"
"Um, sir, I don't think anyone here lives in-"
"Sound the horn, Pedro."
Pedro shrugged and pulled out a bugle. It was dingy and beat-up but supposedly made in Spain. The loyal servant blew and blew, but no sound came out.
"Hand that over!" announced the Coyote. He stuck the lance underneath his armpit to free it up for the added duty. Donald seized the metal scrap and blew until his face was red, to the same effect. Light-headed, overheated and spent, he fell off his horse, bumping is head and carrying himself to the land of Nod.

A crowd had gathered to watch him return to consciousness. He looked around with a mild stupor before clearing his expression. "Oh, yes, right!" Donald stood up. "Now that I have an audience, I would like to declare my intention! Everyone who is interested in the fate and salvation of East Zilch, please follow!"
He stuck his foot up to mount the saddle. He tried a few times, but his arm and legs didn't have the strength to lift him up and over. "Hey, Pedro, would you like to take the horse?"
Pedro's eyes sparkled. "Would I!"
"But I get the nice, comfortable saddle."
"Ugh, fine..."
They switched saddles, still with everyone watching. Donald mounted the pony. "Hyah!"
The pony groaned under the extra weight, what with the armor and lance and all. Still, the equine did its duty, taking its temporary master up to the mayor's office. Donald looked around. "I say, doesn't the mayor have a coat of arms?"
"I don't think so."
"A city seal, then?"
"Sir, it's a backwater Texas town."
"But I have nothing to direct my spear as an insult, then!"
Pedro looked around, and then pointed to a mailbox. "Ah, good work, by loyal servant!" announced the knight.
The Coyote thrust his lance into the open mailbox, skewering several pieces of mail with it. He waved the envelopes' corpses in front of the office windows. "Hello in there! Attention! I am Donald Coyote of the Rancha, here to bring culture and honor to these streets once again! I challenge you to a duel! If I win, I have your daughter's hand in marriage, and I gain control of the city, claiming it on behalf of Madre España! If I lose, you will have my horse and armor!"
"Uh, sir, you never said anything about a daughter..."
Donald looked up at his servant. "Oh, I think it adds a personal touch, don't you think? Puts some stakes in the game." He clenched his fist and flashed a smile to emphasize his point.
"Yes, but you can't have the mayor's daughter as a boon."
"Ah, I see! She must be right hideous, then!" Donald turned back to the mayor's office and called out in a loud voice. "Attention! The terms have changed! If I win, I become the Don of East Zilch, claiming it on behalf of Tia Catalunya! If I lose, I will have your daughter's hand in marriage!"
"No, but the mayor doesn't have-"
"My servant thinks that you don't have the guts to come down and fight me! Prove him wrong, señor don!" He turned his pony around in a circle, lance pointed skyward, trying to drum up support from the people of East Zilch.
The herald called after. "If you have a niece, that works, too!"

Troy glanced over at the idiot who was trying to claim this town for Spain. He begins laughing out loud at the man's stupidity before calming down, "You must be a complete idiot if you think you can claim this town for Spain. This American territory and will stay American territory so unless you wish to be arrested by yours truly for inciting rebellion against the US Government then I suggest you go home immediately."

Donald Coyote de la Rancha "Oye, Señor Alcalde!" the Spanish knight announced. "The call to duel is still on! If you have any honor at all, come face me, coward!"
He backed up his pony and trotted towards the marshal. "You have no idea how happy you've made me! Going to jail for the sake of Madre España fulfills my plans, hopes, and dreams so thoroughly." He dismounted, dropped his weapons, and raised his arms together, wrists connected. "Please, take me away!"
Pedro raised his hand in protest and then remembered that he was given authority over the ranch, should anything happen to the master. He nodded and called out. "Yes, his imprisonment would surely benefit us all. Off to prison to do your duty, master!"

There was a commotion outside his office building door. Some guy with the worst possible fashion sense had destroyed his mailbox and damaged some of the letters he was sending! Mayor Slick was outraged. Why, that might have been really bad if any of those letters had his super secret plans of world domination general scrupulousness in them. As it was, these were just notes to his Auntie Gertrude from back east, sending some word not because he liked the old hag, but because he wanted to still be in her will when she died. And now he'd have to write them again! The fury!

But what this badly dressed man was saying would have been laughable on any other day. Challenged to a duel? Mother Spain?! His daughter?!? Mayor Jeremiah Slick didn't have a daughter. But all of a sudden, he had an idea. And despite how the marshall was doing his part and taking the madman to jail, the mayor couldn't let him leave without addressing his challenge. He raised up the heavy glass of a nearby window and looked out.

"Hello there. Mr. Coyote, you say. Don Coyote? Well, Mr. Coyote, I am the mayor here. Mayor Jeremiah Slick. And I can tell you that we're in good hands right now. But if you were wanting to take over the city, we have a system. We have elections every four years. And whoever first announces that he wants to run, and then wins the most votes in the election, gets to be the mayor. We just had our election last year. So you have to wait roughly three more years before you can try to run for mayor...

"But if you'd like? I don't think anybody else in town has your name. So as far as I know? You are the only 'don' here. And I will gladly acknowledge that to all people, that you sir, are 'the don' of East Zilch. Of course, this is a purely honorary title with no transfer of authority, et cetera, et cetera. But the prestige is all yours!

"Now, Marshall, please take Mr. Coyote where you were planning..."

[Voxija]

Doc Festy thought it was the right time to hawk his wares in East Zilch. Doc Festy had eavesdropped a lot, and he probably had an inkling of what was goin' on in this town. The wagons were being fixed, and the Spanish-looking knight had disappeared somewhere. There seemed to be some gunshots coming from the saloon, but from what Doc had seen, that was commonplace in Western towns.

"So Along," Doc muttered to his pet snake, "It's show time." Doc Festy imagined Along nodding her head, but the snake in Doc's cage wasn't having it.

The good doctor dragged his wagon into town. Medicine shows were illegal nowadays, but Doc Festy didn't care and his customers didn't know. Doc Festy readied his hair tonic, kickapoo pills, skin-lightening cream, skin-darkening cream, and his miracle elixir.

"Step right up, good people of East Zilch! A cure for what ails you, right here in this very wagon! Arthritis? Baldness? The Disease that shall Not be Named? Consumption? Cholera? COVID? There's a miracle tonic in this wagon for you!" Doc Festy wheezed. He had said that as loud as he could, and had burnt out his voice.