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Creative Endeavors / Spinning Sightlines: A Bizarre Adventure
« Last post by Wheel-Son on August 06, 2019, 05:25:47 am »
To Summarize a Historical Background
The ‘Automobile’ that was invented by Henry Ford in 1903 and were quickly purchased by the wealthy and even the government. Over 5,000 automobiles were purchased and in use within the next few years.
Soon after the ‘American Civil War’ and ‘The Steel Ball Run’ and the mysterious death of the 23rd president of the United States ‘Funny Valentine’. There was a crackdown on american outlaws within the ‘American Frontier’.
The ‘Pinkerton National Detective Agency’ became a national name even in the ‘American Frontier’. This hinted at the end of the american frontier, as they hired and gave work to thousands of american and foreign bounty hunters.
There was a large influx of Neapolitan immigrants after the ‘Kingdom of Naples’ had a revolution in and the monarchy was ousted, being absorbed into the Republic of Italy. Any former members of the royal family came to America for work.
Puledro Clydesdale
A middle aged bounty hunter read through a ‘contract’, a fountain pen in hand. He was dressed in a purple hardee hat with brightly colored feathers, a dark red paisley vest with two rows of golden buttons like an old civil war coat, dark red jeans, black cowboy boots with Damascus steel toes, and his gunbelt with various pre-loaded cylinders, his ‘Pietta Model 1851’, and a strange ‘Steel Ball’ behind his shooting iron.
He skimmed through the contract, before looking up at the ‘Pinkerton Agent’ in front of him. The bounty hunter spoke up with a raspy voice, “So, if I’m gettin’ this right… I get five guaranteed bounties. But they may change if, say, I get a bounty for an entire gang rather than an individual?”
The agent nodded, “Yess’m, that’s right, sir. An, if you’ll look at the fine print, you y’gatta take the ones we give ya’. No bein’ fussy.”
The bounty hunter rubbed his temples at that, “Alright, fine… So I sign…” He trailed off as he signed the bottom of the contract.
“Puledro Clydesdale”
The agent grimaced at Puledro’s handwriting, “‘Puledro’? Are yeh Italian?” He asked, raising a brow. Clydesdale answered simply with a, “Naw, my pa’s from Naples. Was his daddy’s name, ah think.”
The Pinkerton gave a nod as he looked over the document, “Alrigh’, alrigh’... Everything looks good. Yer good t’go. You’ll have yer first bounty t’morrow, git plenty of rest.” He explained before Clydesdale got up to leave. As he stepped out of the appropriated sheriff’s office, heading back to the town of ‘Leprett’s’ Saloon and Hotel. A youngster, can’t be much older than 19 bumped into him. “Ah- Sorry Mister, didn’t see ya’ there. Say-”
He pointed at the Damascus steel ball in it’s own holster behind his pistol. “What’s that steel ball on your belt?” The young man continued, going to touch it. Clydesdale simply set his hand on the young man’s, and he fell to his knees. Puledro pried open the youngster’s other hand, “What d’ya think you were doin’ with this?” He asked, holding up a ten dollar coin.
The young man stuttered, “U-uhh…” Clydesdale simply shook his head, “Law man! C’mere! This lil’ shit’s a pickpocket!” He shouted, as a deputy came by to drag him away. The young man sputtered and wheezed, “Hah… Hah… Hah…”
“Come on…” The deputy grumbled, but he felt his pistol clear leather. The young man let out a shout, “You’re dead!” He exclaimed as the deputy pointed the pistol to the sky,
“Dammit! He got my gun!” The deputy hollered as the young man cackled.
“You’d be dead if I felt like it! You didn’t catch me when I took the ten dollars! I’m faster than you!” He ranted, trying to get a rise out of him.
Puledro gave a grumble, stepping out into the street. “If you’re really done talkin’. Give him the gun back, lawman.” The deputy let out a little, “Eh?” and there was a long silence afterwards. “I’m not gonna press any charges, I’ll forget about it. Lettim go. An’ give ‘em the gun.”
The deputy shrugged and tossed the gun to the young punk’s feet, as Clydesdale glared at him. “Pick it up.” The youngster stared at him, sweating. “But… If you do, that’ll be th’sign.”
He spat into the dirt, “That you’re not gonna be any more than a pissant.” He antagonized. The thug glared at him as a small crowd formed, a ‘Blind Vagabond’ stepping through the crown. “What's all that noise?” he said, tapping ahead with his cane. “A duel?” He wondered, milky white eyes looking ahead towards the two.
There was a long pause, as Clydesdale unbuckled the pistol from it’s holster, staring him down. The pickpocket spoke it, “I-it was just a joke… Y-your face is scaring me. I’m just a pick pocket…! H-have a good’n…” He stuttered, holding his hands up. The sheriff stepped up, “What in th’hell are you two doin’?” He asked, before the pickpocket picked up the pistol.
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Puledro cleared leather, sending a steel slug to the man’s shoulder. The flesh around the wound began to twist and the bones in the shoulder began to crack. The pickpocket began to let out a scream, “A-AAAAHH…!” The cracking intensified as the smaller steel ball dug its way into his flesh. “AAAAAAAAAAA!!!” He screeched, before Clydesdale held up a hand to send the small, albeit deformed steel slug back to his hand. “Yer jus’ a kid, put down the gun and go to the clinic. The flesh continued to twist around the wound, as he continued to let out little shouts of agony before it flared up again. “NOOOOOO!”
Clydesdale let out a hmmph before walking away, “B’fore noon.” The young man shot a look of fury at him, “YOU BASTAAAARD!” He screamed, pointing the gun at him. The limb let out a loud snap as it turn grotesquely back towards him, just as he pulled the trigger.
The pick pocket laid dead in the street, as the crowd began to let out a shout of horror. “Sheriff! We should-” The deputy said, pointing towards Puledro. “Naw, Jus’ a duel. No laws were technically broken. Jus’- Lettim’ go.”
Two witnesses were discussing the duel, “What’d he do?”
“He shot ‘im in the arm, then it- Richocheted back to ‘im?” He answered, equally confused.
The blind vagabond let out a ‘huh?’, as he walked towards Puledro, “Uh, sir! Can I- See your gun for a moment?” He asked, touching Clydesdale’s pistol. “Wait! Don’t touch them! They’re still spinning!”
And then, just for a moment, the milky whiteness of the man’s eyes went away. “H-huh? I-... I can see?” He said, dumbfounded.
To Be Continued
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