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"How come Damn Will Smith doesn't show us how damned sucky the west was?!" Chris whined from his side of the moss-filled bed, swatting at moquitos. "Because. He wasn't a whiner, like you." Murmured Lance from his side of the bed. "He was all fucking the hottie in the water tower and all dressed in cool black clothes and THERE WERE NO DAMN BUGS!!" Chris yelled, slapping furiously at the mosquitos. "Shhhh." Said Lance. It had been a miserable 2 months, and he was dead tired. "YOU 'shhhh'!" Hissed Chris. "You don't miss AC, and pizza, and my kawasaki." "Maybe I do...but I don't feel liked sharing it WITH THE WHOLE MESA!" He said, rasing his voice in annoyance. "Now shut up! And go to sleep! Damn you." "Don't tell ME to shut up! YOU got is into this!" Said Chris. "WHAT?! How? ME?! How can you blame ME for us being back in time?!" "I don't know! It's not MY fault and you're the only other option." Chris whined. "Shut up!!" Said Lance. "No! You shut up!" Yelled Chris. They soon got into a big fight and heard loud banging on the door. Lance answered it. "GET OUT!" Yelled the manager. "But... You haven't paid us for our work!" Yelled Lance. "You can't just kick us out!" The innkeeper reached into his pockets and pulled out forty dollars. "Yes I can." He said smacking it into Chris' palm. "That's only Half our pay!" Said Chris. "I got two horses and saddlebag kits down in the stable. I figure that should square us even, now get the hell out!" He yelled. In minutes they were out and riding out of town. "This is all your fault, you know." Said Chris. "Oh damn you, Chris! If you weren't complaining so much back there!" He said. "Whatever." Chris said, riding awkwardly. "What are you doing?" Asked Lance. "What? Nothing..." Said Chris. "You still don't know how to ride a horse right, do you?" He asked. " 'Course I do. Just like a bumpy motorcycle with reins instead'a handlebars." Said Chris, near slipping off the saddle. "You don't have to hold the reins like that. Hold them in your hand and grab that knob there on your saddle." Said Lance. Chris did and it steadied him some, although he still didn't look as at home on his horse, 'Sandspur' as Lance did on 'Montana'. "Who names a horse sandspur anyhow?" Asked Chris, breaking the silence. Lance smirked. "Would you rather 'tumbleweed'?" "Oh, Ha. Ha, Lance. Ha." Said Chris then heard a familiar sound. *skkkkktttllleee, skkkkttt* "Oh shit. Lance, that's not a rattlesnake, is it?" Asked Chris, looking around. All of a sudden Sandspur reared and bolted. "Laaaaaaanceee!" Called Chris, hanging, for dear life, onto Sandspur's neck. Lance galloped Montana after Chris. In what could have been a movie Lance reached Sandspur and reached over grabbing the reins and slowed the horse down to a halt. Chris looked around for only a second before releasing his grip and falling off the horse into the dirt. "Are you okay?" Asked Lance, securing the horses to a small, weak tree. He looked down at Chris' sunburnt, sandy face. "Are you ok?" He repeated. "Damn Will Smith. Damn him to hell." |
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