Shootout at High Noon
By
EKG
I checked my watch again. I had fifteen minutes to prepare to die. I was going up against two of the toughest men in town, Jeff and Patrick. Their reputations made grown men shake in their boots and women melt in admiration.
I put my boots on and checked my dress length in the mirror. At five foot six, I stood as tall as I could without my sidearm. My long barrel .45 was heavy and I hated to put it on when checking my height. I waited another ten seconds before strapping the gun belt around my thin waist. When I slid the .45 into my holster, it weighed so much it shortened me a half inch.
I looked out the window and saw both Jeff and Patrick walking down the street. It looked like they were heading toward the saloon. They probably needed to drink down a lot of courage to go up against a woman like me. I on the other hand, dropped a diet pill and chugged it down with a glass of organic milk. I had a reputation too, loose and easy as they say, but who keeps count anymore.
Twelve minutes later, I heard Jeff yell out, “Are you coming down out of your ivory tower or not, Dipweed." That’s what Jeff calls everybody after he’s drunk four gallons of courage.
“I’ll be right down after I fix my hair and makeup,†I yelled from my hotel room window overlooking the street of Dead Meat, Texas. I was messing with their minds. They both looked rather upset with me.
“Dagnabbit, Patrick, that woman is going down,†Jeff said checking his gun.
Patrick couldn't stand still. “What time do you have? I need to go pee,†said Patrick, the obvious result from drinking too much courage in the saloon.
“You’re going to have to hold it, Patrick. Here she comes, all dressed up and all. Can you believe this? She looks like a big flower vase with all those petty coats she wearing under that dress.â€
“Looks like one big target to me,†Patrick said with his knees pinched together, straining to keep from peeing in his pants.
Patrick and Jeff spread apart, by at least a buggy width. I’d be lucky to get off one shot before they did, much less two dead on target. They weren’t going to make it easy for me. They both looked drunker than my ex-husband on New Years Eve, but those two had a plan and they meant to carry it out.
I approached the two poorly dressed, mean looking cowboys with all the swagger I could muster with three pounds of iron hanging on my side, and seven pounds of clothing, jewelry, high heel designer boots, a fake Rolex watch, and a beautiful necklace I had received from my last boyfriend just before he left me for an older woman, his wife with four school age children.
“That’s close enough, Dipweed,†Jeff said moving his hand closer to that awfully big gun he had holstered on his left side.
I stopped just twenty paces short of both of them, adjusting my necklace so it hung right.
Patrick had his hand down between his legs. “Let’s get this over with, Jeff. I gotten go, bad.â€
“On the count of three, Dipweed,†Jeff said looking at the crowd of people lined up along both sides of the street in anticipation of the blood bath soon to follow. Several of the women seemed in awe, smiling and blinking their eyes at him.
“Dammit, Jeff, I can’t wait that long, three,†yelled Patrick in an act of desperation just before he made his move. I had never expected those two to play fair.
Jeff drew his gun so fast, he beat Patrick’s lightning fast dash for the potty. Jeff’s aim was true. He had aimed an inch to the left of my heart. The crowd moaned with amazement at his accuracy. Even after having drunk four gallons of beer, Jeff was still a straight shooter.
I adjusted my dress, having to turn sideways to do it, before drawing my gun and returning fire. Fortunately for me, I was a paper-thin character and Jeff’s bullet went right past me as I stood there in the street sideways. Jeff couldn’t even see me until I turned back around, but it was too late for him by then. I had raised my big old heavy gun and pulled the trigger. My aim was off, but it didn’t matter. The bullet in Jeff’s foot took him down with howl. The gun battle was over and I had won.
The crowd dispersed, after I returned to my hotel room to freshen up a bit. It was hot that day and I needed to freshen up before my new boyfriend arrived in town. He wrote me the sweetest letter. He wrote that he had heard about me from my ex-boyfriend, who now lives over in Sweet Water. Like I said, I had a reputation, too. I expected my new boyfriend to arrive very soon.
Jeff and Patrick. I gave it my best shot. Let the voting begin.
