The sun often showed little remorse out in the deserts of Nevada in the summer. So when it was dead summer (about July seventh.) Cookie was surprised to see a kid ride into town. "Damn Hoss! lookit that foo!" Cookie chuckled in his usual drunkenness. Cookie was the newly appointed sheriff of Misery, Nevada. He got the job after the old sheriff got plugged and planted by the Cowboys From Hell, the infamous gang led by the most wanted man this side of the Rocky Mountains, Vinny Valentine. Hoss stopped cleaning mugs and glanced out the window of the saloon, and saw a kid that was in dire need of liquids of some sort. The kid looked beat. The sun had scorched his arms badly, and his jeans were covered in dust and sweat. At that moment, Hoss noticed something unusual with the kid. Instead of packing a revolver, the favorite arms for anyone out in or around Misery, he had a massive black buntline, and on his back, was a sword of sorts, like the buntline, it too was massive and black. The kid led his horse to the trough outside of the saloon. The kid had a surprised, almost stupefied look on his face when he saw that there was actually water lying around during a hot month like this. He tipped his hat, which was also black, and calmly strolled into the saloon. "You look thirsty. Whatca want to drink kid?" "I'll take some of your whiskey. How much?" "Since you look dehydrated, it's on the house. Why are you out in the desert this time of year?" "I was on a cattle drive from Montana to Arizona. When that got done, I came here lookin for work." "Ol Cookie is lookin for deputies. He's the sheriff here. Where you from kid?" "Oregon. The name's Wayne." "Wayne is it? Well here's your whiskey." Hoss could tell Wayne was not from around here. He's seen types like him drift in and out of Misery. Yet, Hoss could sense something different about this kid. Hoss couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew there was something different between the rest of the young drifters and this kid. "Thanks. Where could I find this Cookie?" Hoss raised his arm and pointed to a slightly overweight man in his early thirties. "That'd be Cookie." After drank his whiskey, he strolled to Cookie's table, not an arrogant stroll, but a casual stroll. "You'd Be Cookie I take it." "Yup, whatca need boy?" "I heard that were looking for deputies." "I sure is! You want to be one?" "Yes." "You is a gooood shooter?" Wayne noticed that Cookie was half drunk and begging to slur his words. "Come outside and I'll show you." Cookie got up and followed Wayne to his horse. There, Wayne grabbed his buntline, which was in a rifle holster attached to his saddle. The giant gun shimmered in the sunlight, which surprised Cookie. Never before has he seen a gun that nice in the hands of a kid. He took a glass bottle and paced down to a post where people tied their horses at in the town square. He walked backed to where Cookie was and walked about ten feet past him. He turned around, and with one hand, fired the buntline. Cookie watched in amazement as the bullet shattered the glass bottle. "Damn kid! You's had to be about three hundred feet away from that bottle. That's good, real good son." "Good enough to be a deputy?" "Sure. I needs alllll the help I can get to bring down that coot Vinny." "Vinny from the Cowboys from Hell?" "Yup. What you want out?" "Nope." Wayne studied the look of Cookie. It was a mix of amazement, shock, and stupefied. Cookie's facial expression didn't change for a minute. Wayne waved his hands in front of Cookie's eyes and snapped his fingers an inch away from his face, and still Cookie's expression didn't change. "Toys in the attic he is." Wayne muttered under his as he walked to his saddlebags and pulled out a jug of whiskey. When Cookie saw this, he snapped back to reality. "I'm with it! I'm with it!" Cookie yelled. "Apparently, Cookie's the town drunk here." Wayne again said to himself. Boy Howdy. "Ok kid, you're goood, real goood. So good that you can's be my deputy. I need all the help I can get to bring down Vinny. That guy and his gang killed the last two sheriffs." "When do we set out?" Wayne asked. Cookie was too drunk to realize the tone of his voice. The tone of someone forced to do something that they didn't want to do. "Sunrise tomorrow. Get some rest at the hotel; I'll cover the fee. If you needs me, I'll be in Hoss' bar. That night, Wayne lay sleepless in bed. He wasn't too thrilled about helping out the town drunk of a sheriff. To Wayne, it looked like a suicide mission. One against four, no, one and a half if Cookie is sober. Oh well. It was about one A.M. when Cookie stumbled out of Hoss' saloon. He was hammered. After weaving in the street for a while, he finally made it to his house, but not before puking up his dinner of steak and whiskey. He somehow got to his doorstep, and he heard a rumbling to the east. Out the dust and darkness, rode Vinny Valentine, the most wanted man this side of the Rockies. Vinny was by himself, but the only man to face him at this hour was skunky drunk. "Cookie, you're coming with me." He said in a raspy, deep voice as he was dismounting his tall, black mustang horse. To many, that was the voice of the devil himself, and the horse was the devil's right hand man in disguise. Cookie looked at him, twitched a little, reared back his head, and threw up on Vinny. But before Vinny could punch him for what he just did, he passed out in the puddle of vomit that didn't hit Vinny. Vinny took his jacket off and put it in his saddlebags. Then, he looked at the current situation and his job for the night. "Damn, this is easier than I thought, but he smells bad. Oh well, you take what you can get." Vinny got into Cookie's house and wrote a note to the townspeople. "I got your so-called sheriff. If you want to see him alive again, bring a ransom of one thousand dollars to Ebot's Rock by high noon." The note had stated. Vinny thought it was ok, and he stuck to the wall by the stove. After accomplishing that, Vinny went to the horse stalls. He grabbed Cookie's horse, and walked it to the front porch. "Be damned if that smelly drunk rides my horse." He said out loud. Vinny somehow put the smelly sheriff on his own horse without vomiting himself. He got some rope and tied his feet to the saddle, and tied the upper body of Cookie to the horses' neck. "Yeehaw. I got the drunk of a sheriff. I'm gonna be a thousand dollars richer." Vinny a cheering as he whipped his horse and Cookie's and drove them to Vinny's headquarters of sorts. Ebot's Rock. It was nine A.M. when Wayne was awakened by the sunlight. "No Cookie? That's weird." He said as he got dressed. He put on his black jeans and his white sleeveless shirt and grabbed his gun and his sword as he walked out of the hotel. On the streets, there was a commotion going on. As he walked toward Hoss' Saloon, he saw a group of people gathered around a house up the road ahead. Wayne ignored them as he reached Hoss' Saloon. Hoss was putting out blackjack tables when Wayne walked. "Have you seen Cookie?" Wayne asked. "Vinny Valentine kidnapped him last night." "Was he wasted when he left here?" "Yup." "Then Cookie didn't put up a fight. I think that he passed out and Vinny grabbed him for the sake of grabbing him." "You're probably right. Since you were the only deputy, you're the new sheriff." "Boy Howdy. Hoss, you're my new deputy." "But we got no..." "Badges? We don't NEED no stinkin badges!" "We don't?" "Hell no we don't. Can you shoot?" "Yup." "Let's go then. Where did Vinny take Cookie?" "To his hideout in Ebot's Rock." "Which is where?" "On the outskirts of Las Vegas. That's about ten miles from here." "Hoss, after we get Cookie, can we party in Vegas?" "Don't see why not." "What are we waiting for? Let's go!" Wayne and Hoss both saddled their horses and headed for Ebot's Rock. Wayne didn't know the trail, but Hoss did, so he led the way. Hoss started out slow, but slowly but surely, gained speed. The Nevada desert was rough and a perfect place for a kook like Vinny to have a hideout. After riding for to hours, the trail forked. Hoss was puzzled, unless someone put that fork there, it should go one direction, but which way? Hoss pondered for a little while and finally, made up his mind. "Let's split up. I'll go right, you go left. As long as you stay on the trail, you won't get lost." "All right. Let's go." Hoss and Wayne separated. Hoss wasn't sure why the trail forked. Unless someone made them take the wrong way, so that they would get lost in the desert and eventually die. Oh well. The trail wasn't rough; it had been rode on before. Although the winds blew away the tracks, it was smooth riding. Everything was cool until Hoss found a rocky hillside. The hillside was jagged, red like the blood of the innocent, and there was only one way up, a little goat trail that was seven inches wide at the most. This could mean only one thing; he was close to Ebot's Rock. "I hate heights." Hoss grimaced as he started his ascendant to the top of the hillside. Wayne didn't know where he was at, but he was following Hoss' advice. Which was of course to stay on the trail. He had done so, but it led him up and down. Although it was a long ride, it was a smooth one, which enabled Wayne to hit full speed on his horse. Wayne traveled like this for about forty-five minutes until he eyed a water hole. He stopped his horse and let it drink, while Wayne drank some of his canteen water and a shot of whiskey that he got from Cookie via five finger discount. When his horse was ready, he got back on it and rode fast. Fast enough to (Beat the devil.) outrun anyone this side of the Rockies. Then, Wayne noticed something; he was slowly going uphill and right. "This is good. If I meet up with Vinny, It'll be two on four. Instead of one on four." Wayne continued at his breakneck pace as he raced up the same hill that Hoss was slowly going up. Cookie awoke in a cell of sorts. He didn't know where he was, but he needed his booze, and he needed to get Vinny. Fast. He tried to walk, but he found that his feet were roped together. At lest he could stand up though. Cookie also realized that his were tied together, and that his clothes were covered in crusty vomit, which was his own, but Cookie didn't know that yet. He stood up and somehow hopped to the adjacent window. He looked out the window and discovered he was at Ebot's Rock, but he was captured, and he had rancid odor clinging to his clothes. Outside the cell, Cookie saw Vinny loading his gun, probably to kill Wayne when he got here. Spread throughout Ebot's Rock were three others. Konk, a midget who's favorite weapon was a meat cleaver, Buckethead, who wore a mask made from a bucket, and Vern, who packed around a double-barreled shotgun. Cookie fell down and began to pray that Wayne would come, and that he would stop stinking. The first one to arrive at Ebot's Rock was Hoss. He came around back. But, he lost his horse when climbing that hillside. Oh well. He loaded his revolver and proceeded to take out Konk. He snuck around a building that had "Supplies" painted on the door. As he peered around the corner, he saw Konk, and he opened fire. Wayne heard shots fired as he crested the hill with his dog-tired horse. He tied it up to a cactus, while he charged up the hill. He saw Konk face down with a hole in his head. From the corner of his eye, he saw Buckethead reach for his pistol. Wayne turned and fired and shot Buckethead in the stomach. Buckethead lurched, and still held his gun in his hand he aimed at Wayne and fired. Wayne ducked, and he saw that the bullet had hit Vern in the head, and it killed him. Wayne threw down his gun and drew his sword. Buckethead was slow at aiming, which bought Wayne time, but not much. After the gunfire broke out, Vinny went around until he found Hoss. The two didn't say a word for at least two minutes. Cookie stood up to peer out the window to see what was going on outside. He looked to see a bullet come flying towards him and hit him in the chest. The pain was everlasting. When he hit the ground, he prayed and apologized for everything he did wrong, and he begged for death, so that he would have to feel no pain. When he saw the world slowly fade to black, he knew that his prayers had been answered. Buckethead was bleeding badly, he got shot once, and he lost his arm to the blade of Wayne's sword. Buckethead, with his one good hand, took a knife from his pocket and stabbed Wayne in the stomach. Wayne's reaction was simple. He took id sword and impaled Buckethead on it. Buckethead spoke before he died though, he told Wayne to remove his mask. Wayne took the sword out of Bukethead's chest and removed the bucket mask. Wayne was horrified to see the face of long ago. The face of his brother, who supposedly was killed by the Indians. Vinny and Hoss still stared at each other. None of them moved an inch. They both tossed down their guns and started brawling. Hoss threw a left hook, and Vinny countered with a blow to the stomached. Hoss nutted Vinny and grabbed a pipe that was lying around and proceeded to club Vinny to death with it. Hoss first brought the pipe down on Vinny's leg, and then he drove it into Vinny's stomach. Wayne was watching from a distance and had his buntline in his hand. He brought it up, and felt his finger pull back on the trigger. "This one's for you Buckethead." Wayne said right before the gun fired. Vinny closed his eyes as the pipe that Hoss held in his hand was going to crush his head. Then the shot was heard. Both Vinny and Hoss were frozen, and then Hoss dropped dead from the bullet that came from Wayne's gun. Wayne ran over to the fallen Vinny, and helped him up. "You okay dad?" "So you finally found out Wayne." Vinny said. "You finally found out the truth." "Not all of it though." Wayne said. He was still in shock from what he just did. "Listen, my son. Two years after you were born, your mom took you and left one day, so it was just Buckethead and myself. We met up with Konk and Vern out here in Nevada while looking for gold. We became outlaws, and we were the best. Cookie and Hoss were mad at me ever since Konk killed several of their friends. From then on, they swore to kill me and my gang. They failed." "That's nice, are you okay?" "Yeah, except my leg is broke." "Can you make it to Vegas?" "Yup." "Let's go make up for lost time. Let's party, just you and me." "Good Idea." Vinny said, no longer in his raspy devilish like voice, but in a kind-of nice voice. They both dropped their guns, saddled up on some fresh horses and rode out towards Las Vegas. Together, once again.