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Results Of The BRISCO COUNTY DVD Contest!!
…with the results of AICN’s BRISCO COUNTY DVD giveaway. If you don’t recall the details of this contest, you can read more about it HERE.
Before we go any further, I’d like to thank everyone who took the time to submit stories. We received over 80 entries, and I’m amazed at the ingenuity and creativity of the entries.
They were wildly diverse. Some were grounded firmly in the “universe” of BRISCO COUNTY, while others traveled through time and space (one adventure found Brisco on alongside Quint on the deck of the Orca). Many featured historical figures (the Lumiere brothers and Thomas Edison for example). Some were mighty long, others were mighty short. Most were quite well written. The AICN staff was brutally murdered in a variety of ways (I was used as a human shield in one submission, and was apparently quite effective), and a surprising number of entries involved Harry and bestiality (poor, poor Comet). In a similar vein, Moriarty appeared in one saga as an…untrustworthy…stable boy. All of it was crazy stuff…all of it was fun stuff. Every entry was considered.
Here are the four submissions that ended up on the top of the list. Their authors have been notified via e-mail, and their sets will be dispatched imminently. ‘Tis a very nicely done package; tons of extras (episode commentaries with Bruce Campbell and Executive Producer Carlton Cuse (LOST), “Brisco’s Book of Coming Things” – which tracks the series’ references to forthcoming items and ideas, liner notes by Bruce Campbell, etc. This set was a long time coming, and is rather nicely done. Highly recommended.
Without further delay…
Nick Lyons
Brisco County Jr. rode into town on his horse. He tied up his horse and walked into Sheriff Herc's office.
Sheriff Herc greeted him. Brisco nodded back to him and sat down. "Let's not waste any time," Brisco said.
"What am I here for?" Herc enthusiastically said "There is a wanted man I want you to bring in."
Brisco raised his eyebrow and asked "Who?".
Herc said "His name is Whedon. Joss Whedon."
"What do you want with him?" Brisco asked.
Herc shifted uncomfortably and said "It's personal."
"This sounds mighty queer to me," Brisco added.
Herc got a little angry and shouted " I'm paying you quite handsomely to do the job. I don't want any questions asked."
Brisco nodded and stated "Whatever floats your boat."
Herc threw a wad of cash on the table. Brisco stuffed the cash into his pocket and went on his way.
Two weeks later, Brisco rode back into town. He had Whedon tied up on his horse.
Brisco tied up the horse and pulled Whedon off the horse. They both walked into Sheriff Herc's office. "Here he is," Brisco County said.
"It's you. It's really you. I have waited for this day for years," Herc whispered gleefully.
Whedon swallowed nervously and said "What do you want with me? Why am I here? I'm not a wanted man!"
"You are wanted by me," Herc secreted. A big, creepy grin spread across Herc's face. Brisco looked horrified at Herc's reaction. "I best be on my way" Brisco said.
"Thank you so much Brisco. I owe you," Herc exclaimed.
Herc turned his attention to Whedon and said "We have a lot to do."
As Brisco walked out of the office, the screams of Whedon were audible. "Brisco! Help me! Noooo!" Brisco ran back to his horse and rode out of town.
Whedon had not been heard from since.
Daniel Hidalgo
Brisco painfully opened his eyes and looked around the room. The light was dim, but he could make out row upon row of shelves crowded with what appeared to be tiny statues. Many of them were enclosed in some kind of clear box, while the rest were posed in unnatural sexual positions.
He shook his head to clear the cobwebs, and tried vainly to remember how he had gotten here. He and Lord Bowler had made camp for the night… someone had ridden up… and…
Nothing.
He tried to grasp more of the details, but they proved elusive. Had he been drinking? Was there a woman involved? He attempted to stand, but realized he had been tightly bound.
Ah, he thought, definitely a woman.
“Thank God you’re awake,” a voice behind him said.
He whipped his head around to look at the speaker. Wearing a blue robe with what appeared to be dozens of little red S’s on it, was a chunky red haired man with the all-too familiar gleam of insanity in his eyes.
“I was afraid for a minute that it wasn’t going to work,” the man continued.
Knowing full well that it was best to keep a crazy person talking, Brisco decided to play along. “Well, ummm… it did. It worked great.” Try to be nonchalant. “So, uh… where the hell are we?” Smooth.
The man spread his arms. “This… is my Bat Cave. My Fortress of Solitude. My Shire. My Endor. My Skull Island.” He smiled broadly. “Home.”
Brisco nodded as if the man had just said that the sky was blue, or that Socrates had a stick up his ass. “Well it’s quite a nice place you have here. Yep. Real nice. And how did we get here?”
The gleam in his eye got brighter. “Magic,” he replied. “The strongest kind. A geek’s magic. Because nobody believes more.”
“You don’t say,” Brisco said as he started to work at the knots that held him. “Well that’s quite an accomplishment.”
“Yes!” the geek exclaimed. “Mori didn’t even think it was going to work the first time. And then when I said we should do it again, he wanted to stop me. So I… well, I had to stop him.” With a vaguely sad expression, he turned his shaggy red head toward the far corner of the room.
Dreading what he knew he would see, Brisco looked at what had captured the geek’s attention. Lying on the floor was the body of a man in a black suit. He wasn’t sure what was more disturbing: the fact that a good part of the man’s head was missing, or that he was wearing bright pink slippers. He looked at the ruined face a little more closely. It didn’t look like a gunshot wound. It looked like… chewed?
“Sweet Jesus!” Brisco yelled. “Did you try to eat his head?”
The geek looked mildly ashamed. “Well, a little. But then I did skip lunch.” Brisco could only stare. “But never mind that. Look what I’ve got for you,” he said gesturing at a round object covered by a sheet.
Even before the geek pulled the sheet, Brisco knew from the size it could only be one thing. The Orb.
With a flourish, he pulled the sheet away, the spiky gold surface of the orb gleaming even in the dim light. “That’s right, it’s the real deal. No cheap plastic reproduction, this is the actual prop! And look, the batteries even still work!” He pulled one of the rods partway out of the orb, and grinned hideously as it began to glow.
Panic flared in Brisco’s mind. He had seen what those damn things could do. With one ferocious effort the last knot gave way and Brisco jumped to his feet. The geek jumped back in surprise. “Now listen. Red,” Brisco grunted as he picked up the heavy orb, “these things are dangerous. I’m taking it and getting the hell out of here.” He began edging towards the closest door.
“NO! Not that door!” the geek screamed. But it was too late. Brisco swung the door open and gasped with surprise as another man, bound the same way as he had been, came tumbling out. He wore a three cornered hat, a black mask over his eyes, a burgundy cloak… and nothing else. A red ball with straps wrapping around his head had been forced into his mouth. Seething, Brisco went to the man and pulled the ball out. He then pulled the mask off and froze.
The man had the same face as Brisco.
His eyes fluttered open weakly. “Please…” he croaked, “kill me. No more. He…” and then the light faded from his eyes forever.
Brisco looked from the man to the geek, his mind spinning. “He’s… he’s me.”
“No, that’s Jack Stiles,” the geek replied. “I mean yeah, it’s you… but different show.”
Brisco stood, looking at his dead twin. “So is that what you had in mind for me, tubby?” He asked as he advanced.
The geek held up his hands. “Now look, I wanted to stop. I really did. But he was all used up and I was hoping to bring Ash in too and...”
“Enough!” Brisco yelled as he lunged forward. He grabbed hold of him, but the geek twisted violently, slipping out of the robe and jumping away.
Brisco gaped at the sight of the man, greased skin glistening, wearing only a tiny white pair of britches with the strange word “GOONIES” written on them. He then noticed the foul smell coming from the robe and threw it down in disgust. It reminded him of the time a farmer had invited Brisco to share in a pig he had just slaughtered. The problem was, the concept of “just” seemed to be relative. The smell of bad ham had haunted him for weeks. But he had thought he had finally forgotten it… until now. With deliberate slowness, he picked up the orb and aimed it.
“Ha!” the geek yelled as he scampered from side to side. “If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a…”
The orb crashed into his face, crushing his skull. Then everything went black.
Brisco opened his eyes and found himself lying on a prairie looking up a Bowler and a Cherokee shaman. Bowler chuckled. “I told you those Cherokee ceremonies are nothing to mess with. I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to come ‘round.” His face turned serious. “So did you have any visions?”
Brisco sighed. “You could say that.”
The shaman grinned and clapped Brisco on the shoulder. He said a few words in Cherokee, and then went back to his horse.
“What did he say?” Bowler asked.
Brisco smiled. “He called me by my tribal name. Chin That Kills.” Sleepily, he began to rub his eyes, but then abruptly stopped, staring at his hand.
“What’s wrong?”
Brisco sniffed at his hand and grimaced. “Ugh. Bad ham.”
BEN TRI'S "THE TAXMAN COMETH"
Across the sun-baked landscape rode the rider on his swift horse. He was determined to accomplish his mission just as the two men behind him were determined to stop him. Merrick (as he was known to his victims) rounded a bend in the dry riverbed he had been following, but an old collapse in the bed walls stopped him short.
The two riders quickly overtook Merrick’s horse, but he had already reached the top of the 30 foot embankment – where he was promptly knocked unconscious by the largest legal text Socrates Poole had been carrying. Socrates looked down as Brisco County, Jr. and Lord Bowler both laughed and grimaced as they watched the mousy attorney stand over Merrick - and realized they had to split the reward.
“Well, Percy, looks like you’ve robbed your last bank. Did you honestly believe that Socrates was a woman bank teller? He has terrible fashion sense,” said Brisco, leading Merrick on a tether to the county jail.
“What kind of fool name is Socrates?” scowled Merrick.
“It’s the name of a philosopher and scholar,” replied Socrates proudly. “What kind of ‘fool name’ is Percy?”
“The last person to call me Percy died a quick death, and when I ever find my pa I’m gonna kill him too fer givin’ me that name!” Merrick growled.
“Whatever, Percy. Maybe you can start a letter writing campaign to find him from prison,” quipped Bowler.
As they arrived at the local jail, they were greeted by the sheriff and a man none of them had seen before, but who’s attire screamed federal agent.
“Another good job you two,” said the sheriff. “Appears Percy took up robbing in the wrong county.”
“Don’t call me Percy!” yelled Merrick.
“Shutup Percy,” replied Brisco, Bowler, and Socrates in unison.
“Also, Socrates helped,” said Brisco.
“Brisco, Up until you said that, we had a two-way split,” remarked Bowler, as Socrates gave him a glare.
“Uh, Brisco, Bowler,” said the sheriff, scratching his head sheepishly, “this here man is from the federal government. He has something to discuss with you.”
“Hello, gentlemen. My name is Agent Harry Knowles of the Office of the Commissioner of Revenue. As you may or may not have heard, Congress passed a new income tax on August 28th, 1894, which has brought you two to my attention.”
“How so?” asked Bowler.
“Well,” replied Agent Knowles, “you two exceeded your income tax bracket, and you came up short on your duties to the government.”
“Tax – bracket?” Pondered Bowler. “Sounds more like some kind of racket. What do you take us for?”
“I assure you, I’m quite serious, and I am here to collect,” replied Agent Knowles.
“Okay, that’s quite enough,” interjected Brisco. “Bowler, Socrates, let’s go and leave this clown on the stoop. Sheriff, we’ll be back later for the reward.” Brisco handed Merrick’s reins over to the sheriff.
“To leave would be a mistake. I always get my man, or in this case, men,” said the agent.
The trio chose to ignore this comment, and rode back towards home.
“Guverment. Always trying to mess something up. Heck, if we had a decent guverment, we wouldn’t have to catch all the bad guys for ‘em!” remarked Bowler.
“Still, we should have stayed and listened to what he had to say,” replied Socrates.
Brisco was about to break into the argument when Comet whinnied and turned him around. Off in the distance, they saw a rider closing fast.
“Uh, boys. Looks like Mr. Knowles didn’t take no for an answer,” said Brisco. “We better speed it up.” As they increased their pace, they shot the occasional glance backwards. Agent Knowles was still closing on them.
“Guys, why don’t we just stop and talk this out with him?” asked Socrates.
Both Brisco and Bowler ignored him, steeling themselves and staring ahead, willing their horses to go faster. Suddenly, Socrates’ face brightened.
“Why I am I even running? I’m not the one who broke federal laws,” and with that, Socrates abruptly slowed down to a comfortable trot. The agent barely looked aside as he rode on by.
“Comet,” Brisco yelled at the horse, “are you going to let some government horse beat you?”
With that, Comet put on a burst of speed, with Bowler close behind. The agent however, still closed in. Paying so much attention to the man following them caused them to lose focus on where they were going, and they ended up in the same dry wash that had boxed Merrick in earlier. They stopped and left the horses to climb the side.
“They are NOT getting my hard-earned money,” grumbled Bowler as they climbed.
“I’m with you on this one, Bowler,” said Brisco. “Heck, that new law sounds practically unconstitutional.”
Suddenly, both men were encircled with rope, and pulled backwards. They ended face-up looking at the agent’s downturned gaze.
“Gentlemen, the government would like its money now,” Knowles declared.
Just as Brisco and Bowler were about to tell Agent Knowles exactly what orifice to get his money from, another rider came upon the scene.
“Agent Knowles?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m him.”
“Telegram,” said the rider, handing him the letter.
Knowles read it over, “Hmm, I see. Gentlemen, it appears the Supreme Court has declared the income tax law of last year unconstitutional.”
“I told you!” Brisco said to Bowler.
“Looks like the Court just saved you both a quarter,” said Knowles.
“A quarter?” mouthed Brisco and Bowler, looking at each other incredulously.
“Good day gentlemen,” replied Knowles, mounting his horse and riding off.
The message boy waited as Brisco and Bowler shrugged off the rope and stood up. “Yea, whattaywant?” said Brisco defiantly.
“Well, somebody needs to pay me for the telegram. It’s fifty cents.”
Brisco and Bowler gave each other a grimace, reached into their pockets, and each gave the boy a quarter. The boy thanked them, mounted up, and rode back to town.
“Lousy guverment! Lousy telegraph company!” yelled Bowler to the sky.
“You know, that really echoes,” remarked Socrates, cleaning his ears above them on the top of the bank. “Now, if you both don’t mind, could we go? It seems like we were just here, and I have a book with a broken spine to prove it.”
As they rode off, Brisco commented, “You know, they should really tighten up that bureaucracy. Internalize the department or something.”
“Yea, like some kind of internal revenue service,” replied Bowler.
“Yes, exactly!” said Brisco. Socrates simply rolled his eyes as they rode back to town.
STEVE CASE
As the dust blew
He heard Harry spew,
"You SUCKED in Evil Dead Part 2".
Brisco drew.
Lord Bowler did too.
Bullets flew...
......................
.....................
Brisco said, "Thanks for the review."
So, there you have 'em. Again, thanks to all who participated – it was fun! Keep an eye on AICN for future contest and giveaways!
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+ Expand All
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I put all the all the effort in writing a story that ties Brisco to the Evil Dead and some guy writes a 4 line poem and wins?! Yeah, call me bitter. Lick balls, Merrick.
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Yeah, I write a cool-as-hell story, tying Brisco to the Evil Dead & Ash and some putz with a four line poem gets the DVD's. Lick balls, Merrick.
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"(one adventure found Brisco on alongside Quint on the deck of the Orca)".
and here's the story if you want to read it:
In a flash of light, Brisco found himself onboard a boat in the Atlantic Ocean. He was standing in the cabin, a bit dumbfounded, when he heard a gruff voice. "Jesus H. Christ! Where'd Brody go?"
He stepped out onto the deck and saw a stern man climbing down from the crow's nest. Another man stood up from on the deck and moved toward him. Brisco cleared his throat a bit and spoke, "It appears that I've somehow found myself on a time quest. Would you men be so kind as to tell me where I am, or, more importantly when I am?"
The two men looked at each other in disbelief. Finally, the younger man that had been sitting on the deck spoke up, "This is the year 1975. We're on a charter to catch a Carcharodon carcharias."
Brisco asked, "A wha..?"
The older man cut him off, "Shark. Big shark. Swallow your soul."
Brisco nodded and introduced himself, "I'm Brisco County, Jr. 1893."
The gruff old man extended his hand, "Aye, Cisco. I'm Quint. This here be Hooper."
Brisco shook the man's hand and emphasized, "Brisco."
Hooper turned to Brisco and offered his hand as well, "I'm an ichthyologist."
Brisco cocked an eyebrow. "Ickyologist?"
Hooper shook his head. "An Ichthy...I study fish."
Brisco nodded slowly. Hooper asked, "Tell me, is your name really Brisco County or is that just where you're from?"
Brisco replied, "No, that's who I am."
Quint let out a guttural sound, "Well, Cisco, seems you should start chumming. Hooper, get up there and drive the boat!"
Brisco nodded, "I'll help catch this here shark, but I'm going back after that! There's a crime wave going on in 1893! Let's take care of business!"
Hooper nodded and then reluctantly began climbing up the ladder, but looked back at Brisco for a moment, "Be careful or you'll find yourself in McHale's Navy."
Brisco looked at the gruesome bucket of chum and pulled his bandana up around his face and began tossing the chum out onto the ocean. At this moment, the shark came up out of the water and Brisco moved backwards to the cabin. Quint looked at him and Brisco said, "That's one hell of a bruce out there."
Quint made his way on deck and the men watched the shark, trying to gauge it's size. They got a barrel on it and the shark disappeared. The men went inside and ate their supper waiting for the shark to resurface. They began talking about their scars and Brisco listened absently as he fingered his own L-shaped scar on his chin. Hooper asked him about it, and Brisco replied, "Well, if chins could kill, I'd be the first to confess as to how I got it. But, chins can't kill, and besides that, I don't even remember."
Quint spoke about his time on board the Indianapolis, and the men joined in a bout of song. As they were singing, the shark returned ramming into the boat on various occasions. When it had quieted down a bit, Brisco said, "I do believe that shark wants us dead by dawn."
The men made their way to the deck and Quint began shooting at the shark with his rifle, Brisco followed his lead and began trying to hit him with his pistol. The shark left them for the evening, but returned the next day. They got a few more barrels on him, and he went under again. Hooper said, "He's going down!"
Brisco watched for a moment and shook his head, "No, he's going up," and the barrels came back up, right in the stern.
Quint told the two to grab the ropes and start tying them to the cleats. After this, the shark turned and began pulling the boat out to sea.
Brisco exclaimed, "It's a trick! Get an axe!"
Quint ran for the machete but the cleats had given way by the time he returned. The barrels appeared once again and Quint decided to head back to shore, only he ran the Orca a little too hard and the engine died. Quint asked Hooper what he could do with all of his equipment onboard. He mentioned the syringe and how it might kill the shark. Brisco absently picked up a weapon and asked what it was. Hooper replied, "This is my boomstick. An impact-sensitive firearm."
Brisco nodded, "Very fancy."
They went back to discussion of how to kill the shark and they all agreed to let Hooper try to kill the shark by putting him in the cage and lowering it into the water. The shark returned and demolished the cage. Brisco cried out, "Why? Why are you torturing me so?! This is intolerable cruelty!"
The shark attacked the boat and Quint slid down the up-ended and quickly sinking deck of the Orca. Brisco tried to save him, holding onto his hand, but the shark surfaced and swallowed Quint, taking Brisco's right hand as well. Brisco screamed, "Give me back my hand!" and quickly bandaged the stump with his bandana while the shark retreated for a moment.
The shark returned and Brisco began throwing things frantically into the mouth of the beast, including a scuba tank. He grabbed a rifle and perched himself upon the sinking mast of the ship, making his last stand against the beast. "You want some of this? Huh? Come get some!" Brisco exlaimed.
The shark sped toward him as he fired shot after shot. He took aim with his last round in the chamber and said, "I'll blow your guts to kingdom come," and he fired away, hitting the tank which exploded, sending the remnants of the shark sky high.
Brisco laughed like a maniac cop, when all of a sudden, a bright flash of light appeared again, sending Brisco back to 1893, and Brody back to the future.
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Act 1: Electric Boogaloo
The theater was old and dusty, much to the displeasure of Lord Bowler, who stifled a sneeze as he crept stealthily between velvet theater seats. He peered over the seats to see Brisco motion for them to move closer to the stage. Brisco County Jr. had been tracking the Harry Knowles Gang for several weeks, always on their heels, yet always a mere shadow behind. And now, finally, after the long and perilous pursuit, he had tracked the nefarious group to an abandoned playhouse, once a center of cultural enlightenment where, coincidentally, Brisco had attended a showing of Romeo and Juliet five years prior. Horrible performance……the hulking redhead that played Juliet still sent chills down his spine. The voice of Juliet still haunted Brisco in his deepest nightmares….what light through that winder over yonder breaks…..Brisco shuddered. The supporting cast had been just as horrid; Romeo had worn pink bunny slippers. The horror……….the horror.
This was more than just another bounty to Brisco. It was personal. For the past five years the Harry Knowles Gang had engaged in a series of personal attacks on him. It began small enough, mostly obscene graffiti painted on the sides of buildings, describing Brisco’s undying affection for his fellow bounty hunter, Lord Bowler. Later, it evolved into bank and train robberies. The robbers introduced themselves as none other than Brisco County Jr. Of course, the fact that all six of the robbers had introduced themselves as Brisco caused a bit of confusion. The final assault occurred when Brisco, having just left a saloon, found his trusty horse and constant companion Comet being mounted by the wily Harry Knowles himself. “We’ll meet again, County!”, Knowles had bellowed, running into the night, zipping his trousers.
“Bowler,” Brisco whispered. “Listen…..you smell that?”
“Smell what? I heard nothin’! Brisco, are you sure that we’re…” Bowler was cut off, startled by the blinding light that shown down on them from the balcony.
“I told you we’d meet again, bounty hunter.” Harry Knowles stood on the stage, bathed in another spotlight. He wore a long, brown overcoat and a wide brimmed hat. “How’s your horse?” Brisco glared at him. “No, really,” Knowles said, “how is he? I mean, he hasn’t returned my calls….look, I don’t mean to sound clingy or anything, but..”
“Harry! We ain’t got time for this!” The evil Moriarty, Knowles right hand man, held Brisco and Bowler at gun point. He had crept up on them, along with the rest of the Harry Knowles Gang. The bounty hunters found themselves surrounded and grudgingly raised their arms.
“What now, Knowles?” Brisco growled.
“What now? I’ll tell you what now, County. It’s showtime! Tie them!!”
Act 2: The Wrath of Khan
Brisco and Bowler sat in the darkness, bound to the moldy theater seats. Brisco heard shuffling noises from the stage, and strained his eyes, peering through the pitch black theater.
“What’s their beef with you, anyhow, Brisco?” Bowler asked.
“Beats me,” Brisco replied. “They just came out of nowhere. Say, why did you agree to come on this hunt, anyway?”
“I saw the graffiti they left,” he said, scowling. “I had to clear my good name. I could do much better than you.”
The bright spotlight returned to the stage, with Harry Knowles standing in its center. Behind him stood the rest of the Harry Knowles Gang: the evil and cunning Moriarty, the nefarious Merrick, the dastardly Capone, the mysterious Massawyrm, and the scallywag Quint. All were grinning maniacally.
“As I said, County,” Knowles grinned, “it’s showtime!” He tore the long brown overcoat off and threw it to the ground. The wide brimmed hat followed. Harry Knowles, the fearsome leader of the Harry Knowles Gang, stood in the spotlight in a long, medieval gown and sparkling tiara.
“No,” Brisco whispered. “It can’t be….”
“Oh, but it can, County! On this night, you shall be treated to an encore presentation of the masterpiece that you so cruelly maligned all those years ago!”
“Waitaminit! You mean to tell me that all of the crap you’ve caused me over the past five years is a result of me not liking your performance in a play?!” Brisco said, incredulously.
“Brisco, what the hell is he talkin’ about?!” Bowler yelled.
“Oh, he never told you? He never told you how he destroyed the artistic careers of the most imaginative performers of our time, by spewing his venomous criticism to the most influential theater critic in the country?!”
“Come again?” Brisco said.
“Think back, County! You fled the theater, stopping only to vomit in the nearby bushes. Behind those bushes, madly deficating…”
“Eew.”
“…was none other than Leonard Mothballs himself! He had ingested three plates of the blue plate special at the local saloon. He was on the way to our presentation of Romeo and Juliet, when he paid the intestinal price for his gluttony. He never made it to the show. While he was frantically shitting in the theater greenery…”
“Ewwww, stop it, wouldja?”
“….along came Brisco County Jr., puking up his tacky and tasteless innards! The entire review for our presentation came from County’s hateful description of our performance! My Juliet would’ve brought me worldwide fanfare, had it not been for you!” Knowles hissed, pointing a finger at Brisco. “And now……on with the show!!”
“Noooooo!!!” wailed Brisco.
Act 3: Season of the Witch
A drop of blood slowly oozed from the nose of Lord Bowler, while Brisco slumped weakly in his seat, looking pale.
“….it’s horrible……..” Bowler moaned, quietly.
“It gets worse. That was only the first act. We’ve got to get out of here soon. I think I’ve got my hands almost free…”
“Hurry…..”
“Got it!” Brisco freed his hands and began to untie Bowler’s. The performance came to a stop. Harry Knowles glared at Quint.
“I thought you were a sailor! How did those Cretins free themselves?!”
“I can’t tie a sheepshank! There! I said it!” Quint wailed. Harry reached under his billowing skirts. All in attendance collectively winced. He withdrew a large pistol and promptly fired a round through the skull of his seafaring henchman.
“Well, if I can’t have a captive audience, then I suppose I’ll have to settle for a dead one. Minions!” Harry said menacingly. The rest of the Harry Knowles Gang drew their sidearms and all took aim at the bounty hunters. “Goodnight, sweet prince,” Knowles hissed. Suddenly, in front of the stage, the air seemed to rip and a bizarre, haggard figure fell through the surreal, smoking hole. A clawed arm followed, slashing and grasping for the strange, battered man. The doorway closed, severing the hideous arm. The man looked around him.
“Well, what are you screwheads lookin’ at?” he growled. In his left hand he held a shotgun. On the stump of what remained of his right arm was a metal saw-like device, spattered with blood. Harry Knowles looked from the stranger to Brisco. He looked from Brisco to the stranger. The newcomer seemed to be a doppelganger of the bounty hunter. Knowles motioned to his henchmen.
“Kill them all!” Knowles bellowed. Brisco and Bowler dove for the floor. The stranger swung the shotgun toward the stage and fired. Massawrym’s head seemed to vanish in a gory red and grey cloud.
“Don’t just sit there lookin’ pretty, cupcake,” the stranger said, tossing the saw-like apparatus to Brisco. “Time to get it on!”
Brisco noted the handle on the device and pulled it. The machine roared to life, and the jagged blade spun, slinging small bits of gore. “It’s like a….chained saw…” Brisco observed.
“Quit yer jawin’ and get to sawin’, pretty boy!”
Lord Bowler found their guns in the orchestra pit of the stage. He joined Brisco and his strange mirror image in the battle. A bullet from Capone’s gun whizzed past Bowler’s face. Bowler returned fire, hitting Capone in the chest. Brisco swung the roaring saw, separating Merrick’s head from his body. The shotgun thundered again, taking down Moriarty. Harry Knowles stood alone. The two bounty hunters and the otherworldly stranger surrounded him.
“It’s over, Knowles. Let’s go.” Brisco said.
“It’s over when I say it’s over,” Harry said. Again, he reached under his skirt. The bounty hunters and the stranger winced. From under his dress, Harry Knowles pulled out a large, shiny metal object.
“Brisco!” Bowler gasped. “It’s..”
“The orb,” Brisco finished.
“Orb, shmorb. Let’s finish this so I can split!” the stranger said, aiming the shotgun at Harry’s head. He pulled the trigger. The gun clicked. Knowles didn’t even blink. “Shit,” the stranger griped.
“It’s been real, gentlemen,” Harry said, removing a blue, glowing rod from the orb, “but I really must be going.” A rift opened in the air before them. “We’ll meet again…um…again, County!” he said, stepping through the doorway. “Tell Comet I said hi!”
The rift closed, leaving the bounty hunters and the stranger alone on the stage. Brisco and the stranger eyed each other warily. “Who are you?” Brisco asked.
“Ash…..housewares. I’ll be needing that chainsaw.” Brisco handed the stranger the bloodied saw. The stranger put the shotgun in a holster on his back, and placed the saw back on the stump of his right hand. “See ya.”
“Wait,” Brisco said. “I’d like to ask you a few things…do you really have to hit the road so soon?”
“Road?” the stranger said, pulling a ghastly book from the pouch on his belt. “Where I’m going, they don’t need roads.” He held the book out before him. It seemed to squirm. The stranger took a deep breath.
“Klaatu, barada…..Nickleback….nipple rings…..nicotine……aha! Nicto!!” The air split before him, and a doorway appeared. He stepped through, looking back at the bounty hunters. “Shop smart….shop S Mart,” he growled. And then he was gone.
“Damn,” Bowler said. Brisco County Jr. stared at the spot where the stranger had vanished.
“Let’s go, Bowler”, he said.
“Don’t you want to know who the hell he was?” Bowler asked, as they exited the theater.
“Sure I do. Maybe he’s a descendant of mine from the future….hell, maybe he’s me from another reality, who knows? I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him, though. All I know is Harry Knowles is still out there, and he has the orb. God help us.”
Brisco County Jr. and Lord Bowler walked away from the theater into a crimson sunset, silently pondering their next adventure.
Act 4: Pinocchio In Outer Space
The sky opened twenty feet above the rocky ground, and a lone figure fell through the doorway. He thudded to the earth, shaken and stunned. A shining metal orb soon followed, landing not far from him. He stood unsteadily, brushing dirt from his long gown. A sparkling tiara hung askew on his head. In the distance, he heard the hoofs of many horses racing toward him. As the horses came closer, he saw that they were ridden by men in armor, wielding swords. As they closed on him, Harry Knowles turned his face skyward and wailed.
“Nooooooooooo!!!!”
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Including the ones in the talkback.
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this is going to stay up? I wonder
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This is the last post on the old servers before the upgrade, huh
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for now...
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