- START -

The body laid at his feet, the bullet holes neatly places around his heart. The gun that the corpse once held had flown away during the impact of four bullets slamming into his chest, just barely clearing his holster.

"Anyone else wants to doubt the Old Man's word?" The Man in Black stood there, his hard caliber still in hand. The others, somewhat seasoned gunmen themselves, took a step back. Before, they may have said a word or two, or stroked a grip on their hip. After watching the draw the Man in Black made, they knew none of them would stand a chance.

"We's work for your Boss, big man." A large fellow with the look of a railroad worker said. His clothes were poor but the lines on his back said time done. The Man in Black liked the look of the man's eyes. They said obedience. A lot of their eyes did.

"The only ones that will work for the Boss," the Man in Black smiled, and quite a few backed up. "...are ones that prove they are worthy. So, I need each of you to pair up with one partner." This task took less time than the Man in Black figured.

"Now..." the men had gotten lined up, all thirty of them, with a partner, mostly side-by-side. "...gentlemen, with me are five riflemen. They will take your guns for safe keeping. We are going to have a little test to see which of you are good enough to have what it takes. If you are good enough," the scarred-faced man paused for drama. "...your payment will be in gold. Not gold notes. Not gold species. Gold. More than likely in nuggets." Then mention of such wonderful payment had pumped up the men, just as the Man in Black suspected. He knew most men would be hesitant to give up their guns, but with that news, they were willing. Eager. Hungry. The Man in Black smiled. Their guns were gone and in piles.

"Now, your test. To see that you are capable for the job, we are going to have a demonstration. Anyone that doesn't cooperate will be shot. Understood?" Nods. Some nervous, others just waiting to please. Obedience was almost palidable.

"Gentelmen, your test! Since I hired men to do dirty work, I want to see you are capible of it. To work for the Boss, and to be paid..." the Man in Black smiled. This was going to be good. "...you must kill your partner!"

The wind stopped blowing as every one of the thirty men heard the order. Slow realization came to them, one by one, as they now looked at their partner in a new light; obsticle. Beautiful, the Man in Black thought, as yells, screams, and cries were heard from the fifteen pair-ups.

Fists, boots, elbows, fingers, and knees were thrown into frenzies as the men attacked one another in a great brawl. Men lunged at men they didn't know, hitting men they had no quarrels with, kicking men that never caused them grief, killing men who never had a chance to learn their names. Blood flowed, teeth flew, bones snapped, and voices cried out as the thirty men turned themselves into nothing better than wild animals. The Man in Black stood there silently, smiling.

After what seemed ten minutes, men stared coming from the ruckus. They were battered. They were beat. They were hurt. But the Man in Black saw what he wanted in their eyes. They were victorious. They became the men he was sent to hire.

Killers. Every last one of them.

After another ten minutes, the last of the fights were done. Fifteen wounded men stood or knelt in the dusty land, fixing hurts and cuts as best they could. The Man in Black's riflemen hand them each back not only their guns, but their partner's as well.

"Congradulations, men. You have succeeded in completing the test. Welcome to the Gunslinger's Guild!"

- END -

01/08/2004

Author's Note: Explainations: ...stroked a grip - a gunslinger's sign of 'watch your step'. ...time done - Ex-convict, territorial prisoners often tasted the lash of a whip.

Posted on 01/09/2004
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