Disclaimer: Don't belong to me. *sigh* If they WERE mine, I'd be livin' em 'stead of writin' em. :P Let's just put it that way.
Notes: I'd like to thank Wen for letting me use her wonderful pictures from her site (http://sharpshooter.hispeed.com/magnificos.html), LOL I was so excited when she gave me permission! Go there, those are some of the best screen caps I've ever seen! Also, big thanks to Luna for beta'ing, helping me get this posted (which required patience) and most of all, for submitting the brunt of the threats. LOL I think she really channeled the fellas, don't you? After getting them in the E-mail, let's just say I'd hate to be on her shit list!!! :P This one's for you!
Genre: Humor (I hope...)
Rating: PG-13 for implied violence
Buck made his way into the jail, whistling jovially to himself. And, why the hell not? The birds were singin, the sun was shinin', and no one was shootin' at him. But, most of all, he had just been to Miss Marianne's, and was feeling particularly energized on this fine, spring afternoon. The lanky gunslinger paused mid-step, halfway through the jail door, upon seeing JD sitting at the desk, writing furiously. "Whatcha up to kid?" he asked curiously, removing his hat and dusting it on the side of his pants with one fierce stroke.
Dunne's head jolted up at the interruption, his hand automatically drifting towards his weapon. "Oh, hey Buck." He relaxed and dropped his arm again when he realized who it was. "What're you doin' here?" the kid asked absently.
"Well, seein' as to how I've got a coupla hours to spare 'fore patrol, I thought I'd come and keep ya company."
"Oh... Okay." The young easterner nestled back down in his chair and resumed writing.
"You still ain't told me what you're doin' JD."
JD set his pencil aside and let his eyes roam over the wrinkled brown paper. "Threats," he explained.
Wilmington went on the alarm instantly. "Who's threatin' ya!?"
The younger man looked confused for an instant, before fully deciphering Buck's question. "Oh, no... no one's threatening me Buck. I was writing down threats."
The scoundrel's stance relaxed instantly, his eyebrows furrowing with question. "Writing down threats?" he repeated, hunkering down slightly and squinting to get a better look at his friend. "Now, why in the hell would you want to do that?"
JD sighed. "Well... remember that standoff with Parson's gang last week?" Buck nodded. "And how they all laughed at me when I said, 'You ain't gotta chance Parson!' when they asked why they should surrender?"
Buck nodded again, recalling the event. "Yeah...so?"
The young sheriff looked exasperated. "Well, no one laughs at you or one of the others when you threaten em."
"That's kinda the point JD."
"Yeah, well, I thought I'd take down some notes about all the stuff you guys say, for reference," Dunne explained, "so I could come up with some good ones of my own to use in the future."
Buck's curiosity was piqued. "Yeah? Whatcha got?" He pulled up a chair, plopped down beside his smaller friend, and leaned over in an attempt to read the writing.
JD realized Buck would not leave him alone until his interests were satisfied, and he sighed in resignation. "I don't have a lot of em right now. Just a few."
"Like what?"
"I got what Chris said to that prisoner we had last week..." the kid showed his best friend the paper. Buck adjusted it slightly and looked down at it.
CHRIS: "You don't shut up now, I'll rip your balls off and shove em so far up your ass you can taste em."
Buck whistled. "Well, I guess Chris has always been original."
JD nodded earnestly. "Yeah, that shut up Fredrick's real fast."
"Sure did. What else ya got here?"
EZRA: "Sir, if you do not cease and desist immediately, I assure you that you will be forced into a life of unwilling celibacy."
The older gunslinger's eyes narrowed. "What happened here?"
JD shrugged. "Last week in the saloon some drunk drifter cornered Inez and tried to... well, you know... get some SERVICES."
Buck looked grim. "Yeah, I heard bout that. What'd Ez do about it?"
"Ez drew his pea shooter 'n pointed it right below the man's belt."
Wilmington's eyes widened. His lips formed an "O..." but no words came out. "Ouch," he finally stated after a pregnant pause and an articulately expressed look of agony.
"Yeah, and that cowhand left town in the same hour!" JD added with a mischievous smile.
Buck whooped and laughed out loud. "Ole' southern cuss 's got some nerve huh? You got any of mine down here?"
"Just keep readin' Buck. You're down there eventually."
Buck nodded and kept going.
CHRIS: He sure has a nasty lookin' smile on, Vin.
VIN: Suppose I could always cut him a new one. Hey Jacobs, how d'ya feel about ear to ear?"
"When was THIS?" Wilmington asked, smacking the paper with the back of his palm. He had been with Chris and Vin nearly the entire time they had had the stage robber in custody. He did not remember THAT happening.
"Happened after Jacobs said his lawyer would have him free'n clear in two days tops. You were probably with Miss Jocelyn."
"Oh!" Buck paused. "Vin said that? ...Huh."
Dunne nodded. "Had his big ole huntin' knife too."
"Damn, I'da paid good money to see that."
Buck kept reading, impressed with the kid's memory, and taking notes himself. He did not know some of his colleagues could be so...colorful.
JOSIAH: He don't stop squirmin' he might loose that arm Brother Nate."
NATE: He keeps squirmin' an' I'll chop it off for him!! And I'll throw in his ears for the hell of it!"
BUCK: "I'm gonna shove the end of this here gun where the sun don't shine and blow you straight to hell from the ass out."
Wilmington grinned proudly. "That was a good one, huh?"
JD nodded. "Yup. Nathan sure can be scary when he has a mind to."
Buck sputtered, but JD just looked back up at him with those big, innocent eyes. The older man fought the urge to smack him, sighed, and settled back in to finish reading.
VIN: "I'll fill you so full of holes your "buddy" over there won't know where to stick it."
"I don't really get that one Buck," JD admitted. The older man apparently did, because his eyes went wide, and the grin on him threatened to pull his face apart. "What was Vin talking 'bout?"
Buck sighed after a minute and looked at the kid. "You really wanna know?"
JD nodded earnestly. Buck motioned him closer with a finger. Dunne turned slightly apprehensive at the gesture, but eventually curiosity got the better of him, and he leaned in. Buck whispered into his ear.
The younger man's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Oh God, Buck... Vin can be nasty."
"Yeah, boy's got a mean streak in him like a Comanche's don't he?" Wilmington agreed. "Son, if you're gonna try this kinda stuff in the future, you might wanna go for the easier material first."
The younger man nodded. "Yeah, I don't think I could pull that kinda thing off as good as Vin and not have people talking later."
"So, that's all you have so far?"
JD nodded. "You got any ideas?"
The scoundrel scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Reckon I do. Just gimme a second to 'member em." Buck leaned on the two back legs of his chair and stared upwards, lacing his fingers behind his head. After a minute or so, Wilmington's eyes lit up, and he landed back on all four legs with a thump and a snap of his fingers. "Kid, remember three or four months ago, that little incident with those horse thieves that tried to steal Chaucer and Peso in broad daylight?"
JD grinned. "Oh yeah!" He grabbed the paper out of Buck's hands, leveled his pencil, and began to write furiously.
VIN: "I outta splatter the bastard's brains up and down main street."
EZRA: "I think that's giving him too much credit Mister Tanner. Surely, he does not possess nearly enough gray matter to leave even a noticeable stain. However, I am not in any way attempting to assuage you from your task. Proceed."
That initial boost from Buck apparently jogged the duo's memories, and within the span of an hour the list had grown immensely, with both of its recorders laughing aloud at the memories of the looks on the faces of the perpetrators that had annoyed the lawmen at some point.
BUCK: "I don't know fellas, I reckon I had one too many drinks tonight. Gimme some extra ammo. I might need to fill him with two or three rounds before I'll be able ta actually kill him."
JOSIAH: "The lord made bones breakable for a reason, I reckon. Everything has a reason."
BUCK: "Start talkin', or I'm a gonna reach down yer throat, grab yer asshole, and turn ya wrong side out."
VIN: "Mister, ya see that man in black over there? Yeah, the one that looks like he ate glass fer breakfast. Now, you kin either talk to me, or ya kin talk to him."
NATE: "Ya'll keep screamin' an' I'll take out yer tonsils through yer asshole!"
JOSIAH: "You are causing me to seriously reconsider human sacrifice."
BUCK: "You'd have better luck French kissin' a rattlesnake than messin' with me."
NATE: "I wonder if ya could still pull that trigger, without any fingers."
EZRA: "Unhand the lady, or you and the offending appendage will come to a parting of ways."
VIN: "Keep it up, and I'll rip off your head and spit down your neck."
CHRIS: "I make it a point to shoot someone every other day. Do you feel lucky today?"
When Buck finally left for patrol, JD began to reread everything. He wondered just how in the hell he was going to come up with something original in comparison to things his cohorts had said in the past. He had never met a more creative bunch of men in his life. Scratching his head thoughtfully, he began mixing and matching parts from the recorded threats to make them different. That did not quite work out as he had hoped, so he abandoned the idea.
What was one thing that could send all types of lowlifes scattering for cover? What was something he could say that would make bandits and murderers drop their guns and beg for mercy without hesitation?
The young sheriff tapped his pencil against his leg and narrowed his eyes in concentration. He should know this. He had been in enough gunfights, and seen and heard enough things. What did every single one of the bad guys seem to be afraid of? He sat like that for some time, the echo of the pencil hitting his pants leg the only sound reverberating in the little Sheriff's office. What to do; what to do. Then, it hit him.
The kid's face split with a brilliant smile as the epiphany struck, his pencil flew up to the paper and he scribbled madly to write his idea down. No outlaws would laugh at him for this one. They would all drop their weapons and beg to be taken to the jail peaceably, or at least to be put out of their misery quickly. JD could picture it now: the bad guy would sneer, his teeth black and yellow, his face dirty and sweaty. He would laugh and say, "Why should we surrender?" in a gruff, heavily accented voice.
Dunne would reply. He could imagine the flawless delivery, the at-ease stance he would use, and the wry Ezralian smirk he would add for effect. The outlaws would gape, like fish out of water, and then slowly holster their guns before raising their hands. JD grinned in anticipation. This was truly a threat that surpassed them all.
One Week Later...
Jacob Darryl and gang sat astride their horses, the loot from the recently robbed bank tucked somewhere among the group of ten. It was one of the desert's hotter spring days, and it was dry and dusty under the sun's brilliant rays. The wind kicked up rivulets of sand and rock, carrying them in light swirls across the landscape.
Across from the ten bandits, the seven peacekeepers of Four Corners stood staring the outlaws down like the heroes of JD's novels. No guns had been drawn. The looks the two groups were shooting at each other were all the ammo they needed for now.
"How bout you take that money and put it back in the bank, nice and easy like boys?" Buck started off, a calm smile on his jovial features.
"Seems to me we have more guns than you lawmen. Why don't you make this easy on yourselves and let us ride outta here?" Darryl responded coolly, motioning to his men behind him. "There are ten of us."
"Interesting, apparently outlaws CAN count past one," Ezra drawled lazily, his hand resting comfortably on the holster of his Remington.
The bandits all drew their guns. Larabee's men did not even flinch. "Think you got on their bad side brother Ezra."
"All the more reason' to shoot em," Vin grinned back at Josiah.
Chris looked at the others, annoyed. Buck had told them about what JD had been doing last week, and he had promised his oldest friend that he would give the kid a chance. But, apparently the rest of his men were hard put to shut the hell up.
The three talkers seemed properly chagrined at Larabee's glare. Chris turned back to the outlaws on hand. "One last chance to surrender boys."
"And why should we do that?" Darryl responded, spitting on the ground for emphasis, his gun trained at Larabee's heart.
JD stepped forward, seizing his chance. "Uh, Mister Darryl?"
The outlaw regarded the youngest peacekeeper. "What do you want, kid?"
"I think it would be best to just surrender."
"Oh, why's that?" the man sneered.
JD prepared for his delivery. He stood relaxed, slightly smug, and completely calm. "Well, because that there's Chris Larabee."
Darryl stopped at the name as it registered. His gun shook slightly. His men stopped as well, and the tension in the riders caused their horses to dance skittishly. The bandits looked at each other and then they dropped their guns. One of the men fell off his horse.
Buck grinned and leaned close to whisper in Dunne's ear while the others gathered the prisoners. "Hell kid, I think you just scared the piss outta those bandits. You sure you had to go for the big guns first?"
The End
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