[Dipstikk]

All right, folks! It's the moment you've all been witing for... the big update! Let's just say that a lot of things have kept my attention away from this.

So, without further adu...

adoo-doo...

Chapter six
Outlaw Battle Blitz

Stranger grinned widely. He pulled the parchment from his vest and observed the photo. He then nodded slightly and turned it towards Pugsley.

“…This you?” Stranger growled. His face was turned away, and his expression was as if he already knew the answer.

“I’m innocent, I swear,” Pugsley pleaded.

“Looks like you…” Stranger said, taking the parchment back and glancing at it with the same sure expression.

“You have to believe me! I-I was forced to commit those crimes!” Pugsley stammered.

Stranger sighed loudly, put the parchment away, and stretched his shoulders.

“Yep, can’t say I never heard that one before. You Outlaws always got some pre-planned alibi, don’t ya? ‘Oh, th’ gun just happened t’ be there when it fired.’ ‘Honest to Odd, th’ clerk at th’ bank gave the money away!’ ‘That bomb was set t’ blow up, and I just happened t’ be runnin’ away from th’ blast zone at the time!’ It’s like one big fuckin’ schedulin’ error, ain’t it Tubby?”

Pugsley was getting desperate. “I was being held hostage by an Outlaw gang boss named Bailey Markowitz. I never intended to hurt anyone, and if I could have helped it, I wouldn’t have robbed anyone either!”

“You jis’ don’t stop with th’ ‘ain’t my fault’ crap, do ya?” Stranger rolled his eyes. “Look, personally, I couldn’t give less of a shit why ya robbed the town blind. My job’s t’nab any of yew chunky bastards who’re lucky enough t’get their faces stamped on a wanted poster, not listen t’ yer sappy-assed, whiny sob stories. Yer face is on th’ poster, so yer ass is mine.”

“You don’t even care?” Pugsley’s eyes widened in surprise.

“’Fraid I stopped doin’ that a long time ago.”

Pugsley’s surprised look slowly hardened into a face of determination. “Well, you’re not taking me. I was released not five hours ago from that constricting hellhole, and I’m not giving up my freedom! You won’t capture me so easily.”

“So, yer goin’ with option B? Good, I needed a workout.” Stranger grinned.

~~~~~~~~~~<([V])>~~~~~~~~~~

A troop of fourteen Outlaw minions made their way down to the right side of the canyon, and into the forest. They consisted of seven shooters, five cutters, and two flame-throwers.

“We there yet?” one of the shooters yelled from the back.

“You’ll know when we is!” a cutter yelled to him.

“Shaddup, you’s mugs,” one of the two flamers hissed though the grate in his mask. “Ya wanna screw up our stealth approach? Now, if I was Pugsley, where would I go?”

“The nearest fast food joint,” one of the cutters whispered to a shooter, chuckling and nudging him with his elbow.

“I’m bein’ serious, yew dingbat!” The flamer said.

“What’re we doin’ this for again? I keep forgettin’!” A shooter asked.

The lead flamer groaned and turned back to face the group. “Fer th’ hundredth time, we’s makin’ sure that ol’ Free Willy don’t come back t’ bite our gang in th’ fuckin' ass. We get him before he gets us. Got it?”

The gang nodded at each other, saying “Yeah, that makes sense,” or something of the like.

“Is we there yet?” The same shooter asked.

“No, shaddap!” one of the cutters replied.

The troops made their way into the thick forest, past the outer layer of dead trees and into the thicker layer of lush green trees that grew closer to the canyon wall. They marched on, following the canyon to make sure they were headed in the right direction. Soon, they saw two figures; one was very large, the other was shorter and much thinner, with huge forearms.

~~~~~~~~~~<([V])>~~~~~~~~~~

“So, who’s gonna throw th’ first punch, Tubby? Me, or you?” Stranger stretched his arm up above him.

Then he stopped. He turned to look behind him, and peered deep into the thick brush.

Nothing. He could’ve sworn he heard something move.

Then, an arm poked out from behind a giant plant leaf. Bingo.

“I’m gonna have t’ deal with you in a minute, Tubby,” Stranger growled. “We’ve got company.”

He pulled a sharp looking rock from the dirt and set it on the launcher of his crossbow. He aimed it at the hand and fired.

~~~~~~~~~~<([V])>~~~~~~~~~~

“Stay put,” one of the flamers growled.

“Would you look at the size of that guy’s forearms?! Freakin’ huge!” hissed one cutter to another.

“Yeah, you likes a guy who can hold you, don’t ya?” the other cutter laughed.

“Sh-shut up! That ain’t what I meant, an’ yew know it!”

“Would you two morons kindly shut up?!” The flamer growled. “You wanna give away our position?”

“Hey!” the shooter yelled waving his arm out. “Are…we…there…yet?!”

At that last word, a rock whizzed towards him, sliced through his hand and pinned it to a tree trunk.

“AGH! Son of a bitch!” The shooter screamed.

The Outlaws began to panic. “You see what I mean?! Now we’re screwed!” The flamer yelled.

~~~~~~~~~~<([V])>~~~~~~~~~~

“Attack! Kill Pugsley, don’t let either of ‘em escape alive!” One of the flamers shouted.

Stranger growled and charged towards the crowd, then over them in a single jump. In one fluid movement, he snapped five of the Outlaw's necks in mid-air, three with his hands and two with his boots.

He landed on all fours, skidded around to face the group, and mentally checked his ammo. Fuzzles, Chippunks, and Bolamites, there was nothing he could use that would take them all out fast enough. It seemed brute force was the only option.

He bounded back up to his feet, raising his left fist. A cutter watched in dismay as the one of his comrades next to him was clocked square in the jaw and was sent flying back into a tree. Stranger then turned and slammed his other fist in the still awestricken Outlaw’s gut.

Seven Outlaws down, seven more to go. Stranger knocked one more off the playing field, right into the Cliffside. But as he did, a shooter cocked his gun and fired a bullet right into Stranger’s left arm.

He howled in pain. The bullet had shot right along two muscles, leaving a tear over them.

Pugsley watched in horror as his kin took the chance to swamp the wounded bounty hunter. At that moment, he realized that it didn’t matter that this person wanted to cash in on his freedom. He needed help.

Pugsley roared with rage and charged.

He literally killed two Outlaws just by mowing them over. He grabbed a cutter and tossed him against a tree, goring him on a branch.

There were just the two flamers left. Pugsley mad quick work of him by smashing him against the ground.

The last one turned and faced Pugsley. He began to laugh, his chuckles reverberating off of his iron mask.

“What are you laughing at, Chuckles?” Pugsley squinted inquisitively. “I just killed four of your best men.”

“Yew don’t think we done planned for this?” The flamer took a two-way radio from his belt, and spoke into it. “Let ‘er rip!”

Then came the explosion. A portion of the canyon behind them crumbled and fell, causing a rockslide that blocked off the area where the canyon met the savanna.

Pugsley gaped in shock, then looked back at the flamer.

“Now there ain’t no way you gettin’ back to the hideout,” he said.

“I never wanted to go back!” Pugsley hollered.

The Flamer stared at Pugsley. “Oh...you didn’t?”

“No! Why the hell would I want to go back to a place where people would shoot me on sight?!”

“Um… that’s a good point,” the flamer said. “Well, my job’s done, I’ll just be on my merry--GACK!”

Before the flamer could even move, Stranger grabbed him by the neck with his good arm and crushed his spine.

The Flamer fell to the ground. Stranger got up, uneasily.

“How’s your arm?” Pugsley asked.

Stranger looked at him, bewildered. In all of his years, never has an Outlaw inquired about his well-being. “Er, I recon I’ll be fine. I heal up purdy good, should be fine in about two days. Damn decent of ya t’ stick up fer me like that.”

“Well, it’s no problem,” Pugsley said proudly. “I would do the same for any—WHOA!”

Stranger grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t do it again. I fight my own battles, so keep yer skinny head out, y’hear?”

Stranger released Pugsley from his grasp. “Well, that’s gratitude for you,” Pugsley said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Stranger walked out of the woods and observed the rockslide.

“So, how will you get back to Birdington?” Pugsley inquired.

“Whaddaya mean ‘me’? You ain’t gonna leave my sight. As long as yer face is on this here paper, your nine-grand ass is mine. You even think of leavin’, an’ I’ll feed you to th’ Odd-damned Fuzzles.”

Pugsley sighed. This guy has a one-track mind.

“Okay. There’s another trail that goes back into town. I was gonna use that one, but Bailey uses some of the caves along the trail as a place to store emergency loot. I didn’t take it because I’m pretty sure it’s still guarded by a few of his minions. We can take that, take care of the Outlaws that are guarding the loot, and you can take me back to Birdington. I might as well face it: there’s no way a guy like me could ever have a decent life of freedom around here unless he’s shooting up a town.”

“Yer just giving yerself up?” Stranger scratched his head.

“Might as well. You said it yourself, if I leave I’m sleg food.”

Stranger looked at him, looking for the slightest hint that the Outlaw was lying. Pugsley didn’t budge. Either he had a really good poker face or he was telling the truth.”

“How far is this trail?” Stranger asked.

“About nine miles down the road,” Pugsley motioned down the path. “We can make it to the base of the trail by nightfall.”

“I’ve got my eye on you, Tubby.” Stranger growled.

“I’ll be on my best behavior, sir.” Pugsley replied snidely.

And with that, the two walked out of the woods and down the main road. It wasn’t going to be a comfortable journey, that part was sure, and only one of them had something to look forward to when they got back to town.