P
Palonis
Guest
Billy Strychnine was not having a fantastic day. First, he'd had to listen to his boys complain all day about how hungry and thirsty they were. 'Course they were hungry and thirsty. EVERYONE was hungry and thirsty these days. 'Least they could do is shut up about it and tolerate their suffering like real men would. But no, buncha sissies had to go crying about it every single step of the way, like an audio record stuck on permanent repeat. So they're crabby, Billy's crabby, and then they finally find a town with a tavern that's still in business, and all they want to do is sit down, have a drink, and fill their bellies with something that'll last them for another day or two.
But no, the instant they got in the tavern, they had to take lip from a girl with an attitude problem, and what's worse, another lady went and pulled a gun on Jake, one of his best boys. If it wasn't one hassle, it was another. Oh well, Billy supposed that he had no choice but to get a little messy. Pulling his own piece from inside his leather jacket (a burst-action laser pistol, technically contraband in most areas), Billy crept up on the lady holding his guy at gunpoint and put his gun a short distance from her head. "You don't want to be firing that little thing in here," he said in his grittiest, most intimidating voice. "In this cramped space? Someone could get-"
Billy probably shoulda been paying attention to his peripheries. Woulda seen the local miner trying to take him from the side. Billy wasn't even able to get his suave words out of his twisted lips before a board sprang up and smacked him in the face, putting him out like a light. Surprised, and stupid as a rock even without a piece of wood in his skull, the leader of the biker gang fired off a quick burst right into the shelves above the bar on his way down, rupturing a few bottles and spraying most of the people with a mixture of different poisons.
"Hey, they got the boss!" one of the bikers shouted while clearing aged brandy from his eyes. He tried to charge Ex-Sheriff Lux from the side, only to be intercepted by a Wastelander who'd stood up from the booth. The nomad, with a surge of daring, caught the biker off at the knees, sending him to the floor in a slide right at Lux's feet.
As fighting began to break out, Jeb stepped over the bar and over to Molman, trying to wrench him out of the floor and back onto his feet. "Go get the sheriff!" he ordered his serving bot, which quickly zipped out the door. At that moment, the barkeep winced as a Wastelander went over the bar and crashed into the shelves, knocking over what was left of the drinks. If the sheriff didn't get here soon, there wouldn't be much left to save.
But no, the instant they got in the tavern, they had to take lip from a girl with an attitude problem, and what's worse, another lady went and pulled a gun on Jake, one of his best boys. If it wasn't one hassle, it was another. Oh well, Billy supposed that he had no choice but to get a little messy. Pulling his own piece from inside his leather jacket (a burst-action laser pistol, technically contraband in most areas), Billy crept up on the lady holding his guy at gunpoint and put his gun a short distance from her head. "You don't want to be firing that little thing in here," he said in his grittiest, most intimidating voice. "In this cramped space? Someone could get-"
Billy probably shoulda been paying attention to his peripheries. Woulda seen the local miner trying to take him from the side. Billy wasn't even able to get his suave words out of his twisted lips before a board sprang up and smacked him in the face, putting him out like a light. Surprised, and stupid as a rock even without a piece of wood in his skull, the leader of the biker gang fired off a quick burst right into the shelves above the bar on his way down, rupturing a few bottles and spraying most of the people with a mixture of different poisons.
"Hey, they got the boss!" one of the bikers shouted while clearing aged brandy from his eyes. He tried to charge Ex-Sheriff Lux from the side, only to be intercepted by a Wastelander who'd stood up from the booth. The nomad, with a surge of daring, caught the biker off at the knees, sending him to the floor in a slide right at Lux's feet.
As fighting began to break out, Jeb stepped over the bar and over to Molman, trying to wrench him out of the floor and back onto his feet. "Go get the sheriff!" he ordered his serving bot, which quickly zipped out the door. At that moment, the barkeep winced as a Wastelander went over the bar and crashed into the shelves, knocking over what was left of the drinks. If the sheriff didn't get here soon, there wouldn't be much left to save.