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A prequel to a sequel or a sequel to a prequel of a previous Dark Tower “review”.
Both women’s hands moved like a blur as they obliterated their targets - moving and stationary. Their pistols were still smoking as they were returned them to their holsters.
“Well met,” said the fat rancher, as he moved towards the taller of the two women, “and mighty impressive.”
“Thankee, Sai”, said the taller of the two blonde katet members and by her calm and authoritative bearing, obviously the group’s dinh.
“I’m known as Quick Draw and this here”, indicating her straight shooting partner, “is the Rootin’ Tootin’ Pistol Packin’ one. Her name used to be longer, but folks got confused, so we narrowed it.”
“I reckon if yer willin’, we could use yer help against them evil clowns, who’ve been rustlin’ our kittens and turnin’ em into six-legged muties that are lazy and can’t bathe themselves.”
“Jenkies! As gunslingers in the Eld tradition, we’d gladly be of service to ya.”
The rancher eyed the snoring lump, sleeping face down in the dirt. “If it do ya, can I see the big cully do some shootin?”
“He’s a decent shot when he’s sober….” Quick Draw’s voice trailed off.
Rootin’ Tootin’ nudged the slumbering figure with her boot, softly at first, but when that didn’t have any effect, she kicked him much harder.
“N-O-O-M. that spells moon backwards”, blubbered the hulking figure as he scrambled to his feet.
“What in tarnation is he goin’ on bout? Is he one of them roont galoots?
"Probably not, sai, he’s sleepin’ off a two day drunk. Or a devil grass bender. We ain’t entirely sure.”
She turned toward the blinking, half-asleep man and said, “Kindly, do some shootin’ for us, Jumpin’. There’s a cactus over yonder you can shoot and remember the face of yer father.”
“Yer confusin’ me! My daddy could ha’ been the stableman or the deputy or a stuffy guy.”
“More than likely the town idjit”, muttered Pistol Packin’.
“Jes pick a cactus and shoot.”
Jumpin’ shakily raised his pistol and let loose a shot. The shot missed the cactus by a wide margin, ricocheted off a nearby boulder and lodged itself in the fat rancher’s left buttock.
“I cry your pardon,” blurted the shooter.
As the group behind the rancher started muttering angrily, the two blondes hurriedly grabbed the big man set him on his horse and galloped quickly away ignoring the furious shouts from behind them.
“Ka?” came out like a belch from Jumpin’.
“I’ll give ya yer fill of ka later,” shouted Quick Draw.
Both women’s hands moved like a blur as they obliterated their targets - moving and stationary. Their pistols were still smoking as they were returned them to their holsters.
“Well met,” said the fat rancher, as he moved towards the taller of the two women, “and mighty impressive.”
“Thankee, Sai”, said the taller of the two blonde katet members and by her calm and authoritative bearing, obviously the group’s dinh.
“I’m known as Quick Draw and this here”, indicating her straight shooting partner, “is the Rootin’ Tootin’ Pistol Packin’ one. Her name used to be longer, but folks got confused, so we narrowed it.”
“I reckon if yer willin’, we could use yer help against them evil clowns, who’ve been rustlin’ our kittens and turnin’ em into six-legged muties that are lazy and can’t bathe themselves.”
“Jenkies! As gunslingers in the Eld tradition, we’d gladly be of service to ya.”
The rancher eyed the snoring lump, sleeping face down in the dirt. “If it do ya, can I see the big cully do some shootin?”
“He’s a decent shot when he’s sober….” Quick Draw’s voice trailed off.
Rootin’ Tootin’ nudged the slumbering figure with her boot, softly at first, but when that didn’t have any effect, she kicked him much harder.
“N-O-O-M. that spells moon backwards”, blubbered the hulking figure as he scrambled to his feet.
“What in tarnation is he goin’ on bout? Is he one of them roont galoots?
"Probably not, sai, he’s sleepin’ off a two day drunk. Or a devil grass bender. We ain’t entirely sure.”
She turned toward the blinking, half-asleep man and said, “Kindly, do some shootin’ for us, Jumpin’. There’s a cactus over yonder you can shoot and remember the face of yer father.”
“Yer confusin’ me! My daddy could ha’ been the stableman or the deputy or a stuffy guy.”
“More than likely the town idjit”, muttered Pistol Packin’.
“Jes pick a cactus and shoot.”
Jumpin’ shakily raised his pistol and let loose a shot. The shot missed the cactus by a wide margin, ricocheted off a nearby boulder and lodged itself in the fat rancher’s left buttock.
“I cry your pardon,” blurted the shooter.
As the group behind the rancher started muttering angrily, the two blondes hurriedly grabbed the big man set him on his horse and galloped quickly away ignoring the furious shouts from behind them.
“Ka?” came out like a belch from Jumpin’.
“I’ll give ya yer fill of ka later,” shouted Quick Draw.