Re: Awesome Outlaws Stories!

[Molycoat]

~~~ Incident at Little Whiskey ~~~

"It was an uneasy alliance, old enemies called a truce - the weary rifleman and the man known as the Bone. Rawhiders were riding in and the Bone and the old rifleman were the only hope the town had.
The townspeople cowered behind locked doors, the Bone and the rifleman stationed themselves and braced for the worst. In rode the five badmen... they spotted the rifleman and cut loose with a hail of bullets... the rifleman was hit in the leg... Bone leapt from the
saloon window, fanned his .45 Colt and cut down three of the men in the middle of the street. They say it was as if a single bolt of lightning had struck. The rifleman was down, but he could see the last two men
as they drew down on the Bone... his .44-40 spoke twice and the two men fell dead.
No one said thanks, no one came out... and the two gathered themselves up and rode off. There was trouble they heard, about forty miles north in a town called Sanctuary."

~~~ The End ~~~


~~~ Gunfight in Sanctuary, Part 1 ~~~

The old rifleman doused the fire with the last of the
coffee. "Sanctuary is just over that hill, Bone, how do you wanna do this?" he said. Bone took a deep breath, "Well they oughta be easy to recognize, Anderson said one is six-foot-six, one carries a shotgun and the other wears an eye patch. We'll go see Nils at the livery first, see what he knows. You sure that leg ain't gonna slow you down?" The rifleman lit a cigar, "Don't you worry 'bout my leg, Bone, I don't plan
on dancin' with 'em." Bone checked his Peacemakers, the rifleman checked his Winchester and they mounted up and rode in... (continued)

~~~ Gunfight in Sanctuary, Part 2 ~~~

At the livery stable Nils said three men did ride in. "They paid me in gold dust," he said. "That's them," said Bone, "where are they, Nils?" "Said they could use a steak so I told 'em go to the saloon."
Bone and the rifleman quietly walked to the saloon. "Let me take the front, Bone, I can handle it." Bone thought for a bit and said, "Alright old man, give me a minute to get around back." The rifleman waited, then threw open the front door... startled, the two killers jumped out of their chairs and drew their guns... one of them
fired and missed, shattering a window... the rifleman fired from the hip and killed him... seeing that, the tall one dropped his gun down on the table, threw up his hands and surrendered... "Okay mister don't shoot!" he cried... (continued)

~~~ Gunfight in Sanctuary, Part 3 ~~~

Bone, just inside the back door, heard the sound of a shotguns' hammers being pulled back... "Upstairs!" he yelled... the rifleman swung around and fired, tumbling the man down the stairs... seeing his chance, the
tall one grabbed his gun off the table and leveled it at the rifleman but Bone was on him... his Colt spoke but once and the tall one fell dead, shot through the heart. "Nice shot, Bone," said the rifleman. "I guess that makes us even," Bone replied. "I guess it does," said the rifleman. And the two fetched their horses and headed out across the plains. "Nice town but a little noisy, Bone, where's this quiet place
called Liltown ya been tellin' me about?"

~~~ The End ~~~


~~~ The Liltown Story, Part 1 ~~~

"How much farther to Liltown, Bone?" asked the old rifleman. "Should be close, lets see what's over this ridge." It had been two months since the Sanctuary incident. The rifleman's leg was all healed, they'd spent
the time in an old line shack in the high country. It belonged to the big Wakefield Ranch. A cowboy would stay up there all winter and take care of strays in that area. "I appreciate Billy lettin' us hole up in that shack. We'll go pay 'em after we take care of our business in Liltown." said Bone. "There's a reward of $5000 waiting in that bank for us if we find those..." BAM! ...Just then a shot was fired from the ridge up ahead. "Looks like they found US!" yelled the rifleman... (continued)

~~~ The Liltown Story, Part 2 ~~~

"DANGIT!" cried Doc Jackson as he took his hat off and smacked his partner, Jack Sanchez with it. "I told you we'd wait 'til they were close! Now look what ya did! You couldn't hit the broad side of a barn!" Bone and the rifleman took cover in a creek bed. "We ain't in the best position down here Bone, think we can make it to those oak trees?" "Yeah one guy at a time, on foot... you go, I'll cover ya." Bone cut loose with a steady stream of lead from his .45's and kept the two men pinned down while the rifleman made it to the trees.
Bone reloaded, then it was his turn... the rifleman levered off all twelve shots, and Bone made it to the trees. "I saw his hat, it's Doc." said Bone. "I woulda bet ya that, this is his style." said the rifleman as he hastily fed his rifle some more .44-40's... (continued)

~~~ The Liltown Story, Part 3 ~~~

POW! Tree bark flew off into the riflemans face. "Watch it!" he yelled. POW! Another close shot into the rocks behind Bone... "There's one of 'em." said Bone as he fired one careful shot from prone, resting his
revolver on a dirt clod... Jack fell dead, all $2500 dollars worth of him. "You got him! Nice shot! That was the greatest shot with a pistol I ever saw!" yelled the rifleman. "Aww the wind blew it into him." said
Bone with half a grin. Without missing a beat, Doc scooped up Jack's ammo and money. "Doc? Give it up man. This doesn't have to end with you dead." hollered the rifleman. "How 'bout it ends with YOU dead?" yelled Doc. Just then Doc raised up and fanned his six-shooter, knocking bark from the tree the rifleman was behind... (continued)

~~~ The Liltown Story, Part 4 ~~~

The rifleman looked over at Bone and said "He's gonna whittle these trees down until we ain't got nothin' to hide behind, Bone." "Yeah I think he is, we can't stay here all day, besides I'm hungry." Bone agreed. They still wanted to take Doc alive but he wasn't making it any easier... Bone called out... "Doc?"... hey Doc?" No answer. "Doc?" ...Doc had circled around the ridge and come up behind the oak grove. "Where is he Bone?" "I don't know, old man." ..."Well, well, look at this." came a voice from behind them. "Behind you!" the
rifleman yelled as they both swung around just in time to see Doc level his revolver... BAM! BAM! BAM! Doc had hit Bone! Bone fell back and crawled behind a tree... the rifleman shouldered his Winchester and fired once, hitting Doc squarely and down he went... (continued)

~~~ The Liltown Story, Part 5, last part ~~~

"Bone! Are you alright?" asked the rifleman. "Yeah dadburn it he shot my Colt! Look at it!" lamented Bone. "Dang! My pearl handles!" "Well, you can buy a whole store full of 'em when we go collect our reward money." "Yeah I could, only you know where we're headed with the money." "Yeah I know, lets clean up this mess and go collect."
Everybody in town was still milling around and looking at the bodies when Bone and the old rifleman rode out, pockets full of cash. It looked like a circus, kids eating candy, dogs barking, camera flashes going off, newspaper men scratching down their stories. "Now old man, why'd that newspaper man write that Jack was a good 200 yards away when I shot him? It couldn't have been more than 75." The rifleman faked a cough and said, "Don't ask me, Bone."

~~~ The End ~~~

[Dog_Holliday]

"Yer in my chair" sneered the black-clad figure. His thumbs were hooked loosely over his gunbelt, his hands dangerously close to the matched .45s resting in the well-oiled holsters. Bone lifted his head at the intrusion. His eyes narrowed as they locked on the bounty hunter's face.

The words were spoken quietly enough not to have carried to the rest of the saloon, but the effect was like a whip-crack on the ranchers, drovers and shopkeepers at the other tables. The rise and fall of voices, the shuffling of boot leather on the wooden floor, and the clatter of glasses and poker chips were all stilled as if cut off by a knife stroke.

"I said .... yer in my chair", louder this time, the focus of attention adding a note of false bravado to the raspy voice. "I think it's time for ya to move". Bone's eyes never left the gunslinger's face as he stretched his left arm out to the bottle on the table, his fingers deftly lifting the cork from it's neck. The bottle tilted over his glass, Bone paused and said "Leave it be, son", his words rolling like distant thunder in the quiet room.

The trio of bounty hunters had ridden in earlier in the evening, castoffs from one of the small, dirty range wars to the south. Used to taking what they needed, they had found easy pickings in this little town, filling their saddlebags with provisions from shopkeepers too cowed to protest. Having gathered all they could pack, the saloon was the only diversion remaining for the night.

The bounty hunter's compatriots, leaning back against the bar behind him shifted slightly, their hands dropping almost imperceptibly to the pistols at their sides, a move rehearsed many times in as many other small towns. Both became unnaturally still though, as they felt the pressure of steel muzzles pressed against their ribs. Molycoat, his Navy Colt adding emphasis to his words, growled quietly "Get three coffins ready". On the other side of the duo, Eagle nudged his man with the barrel of a venerable old Peacemaker. "Yep, unless these two grow some brains in the next minute" he muttered.

Anger had colored the bounty hunter's face. "Move mister .... or die where yer sittin'" he spat. Bone slowly tilted the bottle, the amber liquid falling dead center into his glass, his gaze still riveted on the drifter's face. The gunman's hands flickered, lantern light flashed on polished steel as the .45s leapt from their holsters and came up level, and twin explosions flared from their muzzles as the barrels continued to raise and drift apart, discharging their bullets into the ceiling. The gunman's body arched and staggered backwards, crumpling to the floor. A wisp of smoke drifted from the end of Bone's pistol as it followed the body to the floor, as though directing it's fall. Setting the bottle back on the table, Bone holstered his gun as smoothly as he had drawn it, and nodded toward the bar.

Relieving the two at the bar of their guns, Moly gestured toward the door. "Any man doesn't want to get shot better head out the back" he said. "Heheheh" chuckled Eagle, "Those two move right fast without carrying all this iron", as the sound of galloping hooves receded into the distance.

Bone shook his head sadly as he glanced at the table. "Blast it, .... spilled a drop".

[OGB_Hooter]

Being a direct descendant of Hooter's, I heard the story of the mysterious stagecoach many times before. But the true story had always been a closely guarded family secret. As I lay in bed the other night an apparition of my great-grandfather Hooter appeared to me. He said the time had come for the real story to be told.

Hooter had labored long and hard on the golden guns for this year's competition. But there seemed to be something extra special about this set of weapons. The pistol felt like an extension of one's arm. It seemed to weigh almost nothing at all and handled like a dream. The rifle was the most accurate one he had ever made. And the stock was of the most beautiful piece of walnut he had ever fashioned. Truly these fine weapons were the most desirable ones he had ever done. When the stagecoach with Hoss and Styles arrived to pick up the golden guns, Hooter almost couldn't let them go. It felt as if he was losing his children. After much reassurance and gentle persuasion, Hooter said goodbye to his precious golden guns. However there was one concession that he held out on. He must be allowed to accompany the stagecoach to town. That way he could spend more time with his beloved creations. After much discussion and plenty of pleading it was settled and they were off.

The weather was quite strange during the ride to town. What had begun as a normal spring day was rapidly becoming an ominous and somewhat eerie one. The horse seemed to sense something and required a sterner hand than normal to ride. That is when it happened. Suddenly Hooter began to see lighting unlike any he had ever witnessed. Then came the unreal blue light which lifted the stagecoach and everyone into the sky.

When Hooter awoke he found himself in a large metal room with the others from the stagecoach. Standing not 10 feet from him was a creature unlike any he had seen before. However Hooter felt no fear or any apprehension at all. The creature introduced himself as MunraB.T.P and related that he was the proprietor of an intergalactic Wild West Show. Then he introduced the 2 stars of his show. The person he had known as Hoss was really an alien named ssoH_BGO and he was the greatest gunslinger in all the universe. The beautiful Styles was even more beautiful creature named selytS_BGO and she was the best marksperson with a rifle in the entire universe. It seems that Hooter was the best gunsmith not only on our world, but also in the entire universe. The odd storm was the aliens way of obtaining the golden guns. However, they had not counted on Hooter insisting on coming along on the trip to town. Now they were faced not only with possible detection, but with how to return Hooter. Hooter told the aliens that they did not need to go through such pretenses to get his handicraft. So they haggled a deal where they would get the guns they wanted in exchange for some of the materials from their world. And Hooter agreed to keep their secret if they would return him to his family. It was selytS who came up with the idea of returning Hooter with the stagecoach in the canyon. Since no one knew that Hooter had accompanied the stagecoach, he could return home and the ruse would surely fool anyone.

That is how it happened all those years ago. Hooter's weapons were indeed the very best available anywhere. And they seemed to be unlike those made by anyone else. Sometimes late at night they say you can see some very unusual lights out by Hooter's place...

[OGB_Hooter]

This is a story by TJG_LoneWolf.

STAGECOACH
(based on map by OGB HOSS)

It is a strange story I am going to tell you. It is all about a stagecoach that sits all alone in a canyon just outside Hossville. There are many explanations how the stagecoach came to be there, but the real truth is no one really knows for sure. The story goes like this. Hossville was a quiet town with not much to do. The people there were like anyone else, just living their lives day to day. Nothing exciting ever happened there, but on the the 23 of August 1810 the quiet little town of Hossville would never be the same again. The town was getting ready for the annual cowboys sharp shooting contest. This was about the only thing that Hossville was know for. Cowboys from all over the west came to town to see who was the fastest draw and best marksmen. This was a big event. Cowboys like Fesstus, Lone Wolf and Weasel were there to prove how good they were with their rifles. These men could pick a fly off a horses ear at 100 yards. Then there were the gunslingers. Cujo,Monk,KillerCraig and Martone . They were there to prove who was the fastest and deadliest of gunslingers. They all had reputations of having shot many men in gun fights, and were not to be fooled with. But on this one day all these men came together to prove who was the best of the best and claim the prize of the gold pistol and rifle. Yes the pistol and rifle were made of gold by the towns blacksmith Hooter. He was a genius when it came to making weapons. His rifles and six shooters were the best in the west. And all the cowboys in the west wanted to own one. But the only way to get one was to win the shoot out at Hossville . Things were going smoothly that day, no problems had come up. Gunslingers like Monk were sitting outside the towns saloon telling their tales of how fast they were and how they had killed so many men. The children listened to these stories and how these men became the deadliest men in the west. The contests were to begin at noon on the 23 of August. Each man would have the chance to prove his worth. The contest would go till the winners of the rifle and fastdraw were completed. Then the following morning the mayor of Hossville would present the winners with their coveted prizes. The Gold Pistol and Rifle. The rifle and pistol were to be delivered by the OGB stagecoach line that morning. For you see they were kept in safe keeping at the federal fort at Dodge City. It is said that the stagecoach left right on schedule. There were 3 armed guards riding shotgun , and Mayor Hoss and saloon owner Madam Styles were riding inside with the grand prizes. They were to present them to the winners of the shoot outs. The contests had gone as scheduled, all had done their best and the winners had been selected. Now all that was left was to present these men with their coveted prizes. That evening a storm like no other storm hit the small town of Hossville. It rained and rained like it never had. The town was worried about being flooded out, for you see it sat at the end of a box canyon. The only way in and out was through deadmans canyon. And if the rains swept down the canyon they would most definitely flood the town. The town readied itself for the worst, but it did not come. The rains stopped and the town did not get flooded. The next morning the streets were lined with all the towns folk to welcome the arrival of the stagecoach and to see the gold rifle and pistol. They waited and waited , but there was no sign of the stagecoach. Why was it late.? OGB had a great record for never being late . Had something happen? The towns people decided to send out a posse to find the stagecoach and escort it back to town. The posse had not gone very far when it came upon the stagecoach sitting their right in the middle of deadmans canyon. It was in perfect shape, except there were a few things missing. Where were the horses, the guards, Mayor Hoss and Madam Styles? They were gone, not a sign of them anywhere. They checked out the stagecoach from top to bottom, it showed no bulletholes or any signs that something bad had happen.But where were the people and most of all the gold rifle and pistol.? All had disappeared. where had they all gone, how was this possible. There weren't even any tracks leading to the stagecoach or away from it. What had happen? How could they explain it to them ? They didn't know themselves what had happen. If they had gotten caught in a flash flood the stagecoach would have been crushed against the walls of the canyon, but there was not a scratch on the stagecoach. What do they tell the towns people? The posse rode back to town to tell what they had found. The people did not believe them, they said that was impossible and it could not be. The winners of the shootouts wanted their prizes. Where were the golden pistol and rifle? The posse told them to go see for themselves. So that's just what the town did. The whole town of Hossville rode out to the stagecoach. There it sat , just as the posse had said. It was in perfect condition, just like it had come out of the stables the evening before. The towns people did not know what to make of this, it was impossible, it could not be. But there it was, sitting there for all to see with no expatiation as to how it got there and what had happen. The towns people decide right there to leave the stagecoach where it sat and not to disturb it at all. They were not sure what to do with it, but they were sure they didn't want it in their town. So as you can see there is no expiation as to what happen, but legends and stories grew. So now each time a storm hits Hossville the towns people look out to deadmans canyon to see if they can see the stagecoach coming down the trail with mayor Hoss and Madam Styles bringing the golden pistol and rifle to town. So depending on who you talk to is what the story will be. There are many stories and legends about the stagecoach.