IPO Offices of Nopales
El Escozor al Diablo Rojo
Arturo's boots were worn black leather. His spurs were missing, there were holes in his boots where they used to be. His horse was as worn as he was and galloped with a limp. His boots thumped roughly against the hard dirt ground as he strolled up to the recently opened IPO Office on the outskirts of Nopales. IPO offices around the country have caused widespread poverty to rise as peasants invest their money blindly for IPO stock, only to lose it all and roam the streets like urchins begging for gold. The owner of the rough boots was a vigilante.
He fought for the people's rights and freedoms and worked to destroy all those who worked against them. The sky was packed with black clouds and it began to drizzle as he climbed up the cracked steps to the reddish adobe building. Arturo was an older man, his face covered in scars from past battles. He wore long black hair covered by a rough sombrero made from a mesquite tree. Under a brightly colored serape he wore a bandoleer and an ornate pistol belt with two heavy caliber five-cylinder revolvers tucked away in the holsters. Each had an ivory hilt with a rendition of Our Lady Guadalupe set on the hilt and an intricate pattern covering the octagonal barrel.
Arturo's boots slammed into the wooden door with all his pent up rage behind them and he burst inside the office, pistols drawn and a heavy scowl on his face. Buyers and sellers, all dirty peasants fresh from the fields dove to the dirt covered floor in panic as Arturo walked in and spat out instructions to guards and employees,
"Okay amigos, if you don't want a bullet in the head I suggest you start handing over the money, alright?"
Arturo fired up into the ceiling as a warning and leaned up against the dusty counter in front of the tellers. They quickly rushed to the vault and emptied it of currency and IPO shares worth millions. Arturo smiled and sang the ballad of Joaquin Murrietta as terrified IPO employees shuffled him the bags.
He tipped his sombrero and almost ran out of the building with the bags under his arms. His old horse's eyes widened with fear as he saw the bags approaching. His back was past its prime and could hardly hold his owner. He nearly collapsed under the weight but held himself up as Arturo re-entered the building.
"Muchas gracias for the money! But now, I have to tie up loose ends. That means I have to kill you all. To send a message to the other tyrants."
He slid his pistols out carefully and aimed for a woman behind the counter. Her head imploded and she hit the floor hard, scattered brains and skull fragments everywhere as blood pooled around her.
Arturo's face lit up and his face turned black as the smoke from his pistols filled the room with the smell of burning gunpowder, hair and dead bodies. His pistols were quickly emptied and the room was quiet.
Everyone was dead and Arturo smiled at his work. As he left the building he grabbed the lantern from outside and tossed it into the open foyer, watching as the flames danced across the blood-stained wooden floors. His old boots guided him back to his horse and he quickly rode away while the IPO building collapsed within itself and erupted in a fireball.
"Puta escoria salida a bolsa." Arturo said hatefully as he rode quickly out of town.
[OOC; you should totally like, post your own stories of IPO oppression and vigilante justice ... please ):]
