it was high noon when the young lass wandered back to the homestead and inside for a drink..she heard the hoopin and hollerin from her bedroom and opened the shutter to see the commotion..
oooooh, fuck no, jack...not you, simmer down...you know you can't go arguing with a madman, especially when he's armed...for the love of god, man, don't go there...
but jack stammered away...he'd had enough, and honestly, who amongst you hasn't felt the same at one time or another?
truly it was a compassionate thing he did..this downtrodden cowboy..for many times he had been inside the saloon when the madman came preying on the locals..he used his charm and his razor wit, and he mesmerized the masses with his golden tongue...sadly, it came with chronic halitosis, in a time when the town was too old yet to know what that meant..
the madman was the horse's ass in the one horse town..the mindless lackeys he surrounded himself with a seething pussing wound on the town..a telling sign to all that resided there that the ignorance and inbreeding was not just a problem down the trail, but in their very own township..
the stories relating to the band of idiots and the turmoil they wrought on the town read like a western encyclopedia to the fall of rome. little joe had once shot himself in the foot while cleaning his gun..sarah jane had once been forced to ride bare back all the way home with no knickers when the sex starved madman had gone overboard with his advances..even tiny, the slackjawed piano player had given up making the peace, he himself feeling the unchangeable outcome not worth the fight.
in the end, jack escaped the gunfight hardly injured..for he realized that he himself had used the band of idiots as his own folly for years..how now could he not see the humor in the retarded circus act they brought to his door? indeed, he had to embrace the retarded children for they were products of the place he called home..