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"Manuscripts don't burn"
- Mikhail Bulgakov

Hi, I'm horror and science fiction author Steve Kozeniewski (pronounced: "causin' ooze key.") Welcome to my blog! You can also find me on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Amazon. You can e-mail me here, join my mailing list here, or request an e-autograph here. Free on this site you can listen to me recite one of my own short works, "The Thing Under the Bed."

Saturday, August 7, 2010

A Fistful of Zombies 9

***Sorry for the lateness of this post. Eh, who am I kidding, I could give a fuck whether the post is late. Enjoy it, though. Good comedy here. See if you can figure out the origin of the character names.***

JOHN DENVER, an aging sheriff, looks out of the window of his office and sees Miguel’s men walking down the street. His office has no light except for a single candle. Denver is well-dressed, almost like an Easterner, but still a down-home boy. He is like the typical sheriff about ready to turn in his tin star when he is drawn into the business once again. He is obviously prepared for Miguel, as he is holding a rifle in his hands. He stands up. He turns to his two deputies, JAMES TAYLOR and BOB DYLAN.

Well boys, they’re coming. It looks like we’re a bit out-numbered, but we’ve faced worse.

Dylan is composed and professional, but Taylor is jittery and nervous.

Let’s do it.

Denver and Dylan both walk towards the door. Taylor is kind of fumbling with his pistol.

Wait, now, uh, maybe we should see what they do first. Maybe I’ll just wait here.

If you want to be here alone when they get here, be my guest.

Spooked, Taylor jumps up and follows the other two out. Out on the street, the banditos stop. The law and the outlaws stare each other down from opposite end of the street. A few of the townspeople in their pajamas are watching the showdown.

Miguel, I think you’d better saddle up and ride back to Mexico.

Miguel strokes his moustache as if in thought.

No, sheriff, I think you ride out of town. Maybe back East where they appreciate pussies like you.

Denver steps forward.

You’re asking for it, spick.

Blow me, gringo.

The two sides open fire. Juan is killed almost instantly. The rest of them duck into cover and continue firing at each other. Juan stands back up.

He’s still alive! Shoot him!

All three of the lawmen shoot at Juan, and although they hit him several times, he keeps walking forward. As he stumbles forward, rigor mortis begins to set in and he moves gradually slower and slower.

What the fuck…

Distracted, Dylan is suddenly struck in the head viciously by a bullet. His head snaps backwards and he falls.

Bob! You bastards!

Denver walks across the street, stepping into full view, full of rage, and shoots at the banditos. He hits Tuco and Benedito, killing them both.

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