[Steefie]

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Chapter 3:

Bitin’ The Bullet

Steefie was angry, and worried at the same time. “I aint got no explainin’ ta do to anyone!” She growled so viciously, Stranger flinched a little. “’Specially not to you! An’ git me sittin’ up properly, now!”

Stranger was obliged. Her grabbed Steefie by the throat, and hauled her up onto her butt, and leant her against some hay. However he didn’t release her.

“Hey, Bob, you seem to have forgotten ta let go of ma throat.” Steefie growled, with a bit of an effort to talk. Stranger’s grip wasn’t exactly soft.

“I didn’t forgot nuthin’, lady.” Stranger turned his head and spat, and then glared at Steefie just as angrily. “Now tells me what you’re doin’ with an Outlaw tag!”

Steefie silently bared her teeth; Stranger could tell she was thinking. To encourage her to think quicker, he tightened his grip on her throat. Finally, Steefie said something.

“Ya think ya sooo damn hard-core… dontcha Bob…” Steefie was having real difficulties breathing now, but she still wouldn’t spill the beans. “You’re nuthin’… but ah pansy… ya jerk!”

Stranger didn’t like being called a pansy… or a jerk… especially not by this woman. It really got on his nerves; probably because she wasn’t really an Outlaw… or was she? He couldn’t tell. He tightened his grip even more; Steefie would soon faint from lack of breath unless she said something Stranger wanted to hear… and fast.

“F-fine…” Steefie said, frothing at the mouth a little. “Jus’ let me go…”

Stranger released Steefie’s throat. She licked the foam off her lip, and regained her breath.

“Alright…” She said, looking up at Stranger frostily. “Since you’re so damn nosy, I’ll tell ya… tha’ there pendant belongs to an Outlaw known as Tubbo Lard. He’s a real fat bastard.”

Taking a closer look at the pendant, Stranger saw that there was a face of an Outlaw; it was probably Tubbo’s. The Outlaw’s had the complexion of a meat-lovers pizza.

“He’s one ugly mamma… he’s gots me workin’ for him – not tha’ I wanna, but I got no choice. Now, can ya let me go? Or are ya gonna take advantage of me or somethin’’… I’m warnin’ ya though… yew try anythin’ funny, and you’re balls are gawn brother!”

Stranger unconsciously moved back a couple of inches. “ ‘Am not that type of guy…” he said, pulling his hat rim down a fraction. “…But I still wanna know – what’s this Tubbo punk got on ya?”

Looking less angry and more depressed, Steefie replied, “whatsit matter to you, huh? It’s’not like you’d give a crap.”

Well, usually Stranger probably wouldn’t have given a crap; but he didn’t like Outlaw scum, and he liked them even less when they manipulated people. “It’s ma… hobby… ta deal with scum, like this Tubbo Lard. And I gotsta get some more Moolah anyway; the guy’s beginnin’ ta sound lika nice cash-in.”

Steefie’s face scrunched up like she smelt a Stunk.

“Why ya lookin’ like that? There sumthin’ wrong?” Stranger asked a little bewildered; he couldn’t smell anything that bad.

“Mah… moah… mouav…!” Steefie couldn’t say it… and Stranger just got confused; Steefie was making the most incomprehensible noises (words!?).

“…Mouav?” Stranger gave Steefie a funny look.

Ah-choo!

Steefie tried to tell Stranger to move… but her itchy nose made it impossible. So, now, Stranger was crouching in front of Steefie… all wet and slimy.

Poor Stranger didn’t budge a muscle; he just crouched there, with a look of being generally unimpressed, and his hat dripping with wet chunks (most probably boogers and saliva).

“I’m so sorry!” Steefie said, magically snapping out of her ice-age temperament. She felt so bad, snotting (literally) poor old Bob. “I’m so sorry! Oh ma! Oh ma! I did try to say ‘move’ but I jus’ couldn’ say it wiffout soundin’ retarded! Oh god, I’m so sorry Bob! I’ve got a pissue in ma tocket, I think!”

Stranger watched as Steefie wound up into a dyslexic, stressing, apologising mess. “I swears, I didn’t snean to meeze all ov’r ya Bob! A’s mo rarry!” Steefie continued.

At this point, Steefie would have had a hand over her mouth in embarrassment but she couldn’t do that still being bound and all. She did this every time she got in a shambles… she became temporarily dyslexic.

Stranger had never imagined the apparently bad-arse ‘Steevie’ being so… dyslexic. He Shook himself dry, and sat down. “Heya, Steevie… I gotsa tongue twister for ya.”

Steefie got what Stranger was saying a little… wrong. “Oh, my…” she said saucily. “You’re rather bold… Remember what I said about getting funny…?”

Stranger looked away embarrassed. “I meant a lyrical rhyme… not, uh, what you was thinkin’… I dares ya to say ‘Irish wrist-watch’, heh heh heh…”

“Pfft! That’s easy.” Steefie said merrily. “Iwish wist wash. What! I mean Iris wist wass. Iwish wiz waz! Iwiz was wa! Iowa… What the… Yew did piss on thurpase! I mean Did this on purpose…”

Stranger broke out into roars of laughter. “Ah ha ha! Heh! Heh! Heh!” It had even brought a tear to his eye, which he flicked away with one finger.

“Oh yeah, ya think that’s funny boy?” Steefie said, trying to hide a smile.

“Okay… let’s git back ta business.” Stranger composed himself, and asked Steefie more seriously than angrily this time, “What’s this Tubbo guy got on ya?”

“Sadly,” Steefie said also not so angrily. “If ah told ya, I’d be dead. All I c’n tells yew is he’s got me by the balls…”

Stranger raised an eyebrow and his eyes looked ‘down’. “Oh, er, I see…”

“Not like that!” Steefie yelled embarrassed. Hell, she wasn’t a man! “I means he’s got me good ‘n’ proper – oh ma god boy. No, not like that either! He’s jus’ got a real good blackmail on me; and if uh don’ do as he says, well… I’m as good as dead honey. I mean sunny! Sunny!”

Stranger pulled out a pocket knife, and kneeled closer to Steefie. “Alrights, ya can go… I gots ya weapons stashed ‘round somewheres too.”

The old barn door opened, and light flooded in. There appeared to be someone short and fat standing in the door. “Hey, Pa, there’s a pair o’ weirdoes getting’ kinky or somethin’ in the ol’ barn! Get yer Rifle!”

It was a little Clakker; most likely the son of whoever owned the joint. “Hurry, Pa!” It yelled out again.

Stranger quickly cut Steefie free. “Stupid Clakker; we gotsta git movin’, or we’re gonna hava few bullets lodged in our hide.”

Steefie stood up, and fell down squashing Stranger. “Great!” Steefie said, trying to get up. “I can’t do a friggin’ thing; my feet are asleep… and my butt… and my legs, hands and arms… I don’t know how I even managed to stand up!”

The young Clakker watched with wide eyes, not quite sure if what he was seeing was what he thought it was.

“Oh that’s jus’ great.” Stranger grumbled, heaving Steefie off him. “This mean I gotta carry ya!?”

“Well…” Steefie tried to stand up again, but she couldn’t even push herself up off the floor. “…I guess so… unless you wanna leave me hear to git a bullet in ma head.”

Stranger got up, and ran over to a crate; he opened it and grabbed all of Steefie’s gear. Just as he did, ‘Pa’ walked into the barn, with a big fat rifle… “Git out of ‘ere yew pair o’ dirty beasts!”

The old Clakker shot several holes in the wall, trying to hit an evasive Stranger. Steefie struggled to get into her hands and knees; just as she did, she was reefed off the ground by her belt. Stranger ran towards the other side of the barn, with Steefie dangling beside him.

“That’s right yew varmin! Git!” The old Clakker shot a couple of more times as the intruders burst through the barn wall.

Stranger was running like a mad man to even notice Steefie was swearing like Satan on graduation day. They were well off the small farm before Steefie’s voice began to sink in.

“Ooooooow!” Steefie cried in pain. She had some of her movement back as the blood came back to her limbs. “It goddam hurts!”

Stranger came to a halt in some tall grass. He went to place Steefie on her bottom, but she jumped up like a leper has grabbed it, and grasped onto his arm, sinking her nails from pain. She landed on her knees, almost yanking Stranger’s arm out of its socket.

“My buuuuuuuutt!” She cried in agony. “It feels like someone jammed a red-hot poker into my butt cheek!” She let go of Stranger, and held her butt.

“Give me a look, you musta got a bullet…”

“No!” Steefie said standing up, still clutching her butt. “You can’t look!”

Never having really had to deal with a person who had a bullet lodged up their butt, Stranger firstly tried to calm Steefie down. “Look, I aint gonna try anythin’ funny, I jus’ wanna help. Jus’ chill lady!”

“Chill!?” Steefie said, getting worked up. “Bob, I got a BULLET in ma BUTT! I can’t jus’ ‘chill’!”

It was no use; Stranger tried to take a step towards Steefie, but she took two back. “That bullet can’t stay there Steevie…”

Steefie dodged around Stranger, ensuring her butt was always facing away. “Yes it can!”

“It’ll git infected; it has to be removed so it c’n heal.”

“Well ma butt can heal and leave it in there!”

Stranger thought for a moment…

“I’ll buy yew two lotsa cheese if ya let me help you git that bullet out. I promise I won’t lookit yer butt.” This seemed to work.

“well…” Steefie said, considering the offer. “… only if you buy me three lots of cheese. And if you do look at ma butt, I’ll slice you open… oh wait you still gots my weapons... I’ll jus’ beat you up or somethin’ instead…”

“…And ya can have your weapons back after tha’ bullet’s been removed, an’ I know ya won’t slice me open.” Stranger said, crossing his arms.

“Erm…” Steefie looked over her shoulder at her back-side. The problem was, she didn’t know how to get the bullet out… she had never had one lodge itself in her bottom before.

“…How do I git the thing out…?” Steefie asked.

Stranger had a feeling his distressed companion wasn’t going to like his idea… “Well,” he said, trying to sound nice. “You best to dig the bullet out –”

“Dig!?” Steefie said alarmed. “You make it sound like a Vykker’s gonna butcher my butt!”

The blood was starting to show on Steefie’s white pants; the red stain was slowly creeping to the front. Stranger wasn’t a medic, but he had learned how to make wounds heal with as few problems as possible.

“- You gotsta dig it out with somthin’, like yer nails. Then you gotsta kill the germs with somethin’ hot, like a fired up blade.” Stranger discretely moved towards Steefie; she obviously wasn’t going to help herself. He decided to try and knock her out; at least that way, he could safely do something about the bullet. “Look, I’ll let you use ma knife ‘ere to dig that there bullet out.”

Stranger was close enough to knock Steefie out; he held out his pocket knife, but Steefie didn’t take it. Instead, her face screwed up, tears welled up, and before Stranger knew it Steefie was having a big blub. Poor Stranger didn’t know what to do; he stood there, not sure if he should knock her out.

“Oh, er…” Stranger said, trying to think of something to say. He had never really had to deal with a great big blubbing shella with a bullet in her bottom before. “… crap.”

Steefie had gone from crying all over her hands to crying all over Stranger’s leather armour; she had leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his stomach.

Stranger sighed. He thought for a moment. The bullet was causing Steefie’s distress. He had to remove that bullet… or be soaked. “Please don’ take this tha’ wrong way Steevie…”

He put the knife away. He took of his glove from one hand, and leant over. He lifted the tail of Steefie’s dress up to get to the wound a little easier, his nails homed in on the bloody spot where the bullet had penetrated…

!STEEF!

Steefie roared in pain like a lion with its balls in a blender.

Stranger had dug his nails in, using them like tweezers, and pulled out the bullet; however, he couldn’t straiten up because Steefie had also dug her nails into something… his back.

Stranger slowly reached back, and grabbed one of Steefie’s hands. Her nails had gone right through his leather armour, and were digging into his flesh. With some trouble, he eventually pried one of Steefie’s rigid hands.

He put the bullet into Steefie’s free hand, and waited for her to remove her other hand from his back at her own will. It took about half a minute for it to happen, but once Steefie realised what she was holding (… in both hands!) she let go… and for the second time in twenty four hours, fainted.

“Not again…” Stranger sighed. He picked Steefie up, and slung her over his back like a sack. “We needs ta get closer ta town, away from all this ‘ere grass ‘fore I c’n make a fire to heat ma blade on…”

So now Stranger walked with Steefie over one shoulder and her weapons over the other. He had no idea when she’d wake up. It could be in a few minutes, it could be in a few hours.

!STEEF!

After about an hour of walking, Stranger found a spring. Steefie was still out; well, he actually wasn’t sure if she was unconscious… or just sleeping. He had suspicions it was the later.

Stranger went to put Steefie on the ground, when he realised she had been drooling. “Ah yuck…” Stranger gladly put Steefie down, and went to wash off the drool. “…An I bets afta all this she’ll still want tha’ damn cheese ah promised her.”

After refreshing himself, Stranger started to make a small fire. He was in the process of heating his knife when Steefie came round.

Steefie stretched, and yawned; not realising she was near the water’s edge. She got up on her knees, but the loose sand gave way and she fell side-ways into the water. She jumped up startled, and shook herself of sand and water. Some water drops which flew into the fire fizzled, catching Steefie’s attention.

“Whatcha doin’ Bob?” She asked casually, seeing he was next to the small fire doing something. “What happened; last I remembers, we was runnin’ from some gun-tottin’ Clakker… and ah had a bullet in ma arse.”

Stranger had learnt by now that there was only one way to get things done with ‘Steevie’. Do it without telling her, but also without her having anyway to hurt you in the process. “Well ya might notice ah plucked tha’ bullet from ya… and no we’s gotsta kill the germs…” he replied.

Before Steefie could click what he was getting at, Stranger raised his bow, and shot a Bolamite at her; it wound her up in sticky web; this was what bound her last time. She landed on her back from the force. She tried to scream, but her mouth had also been gagged by the Bolamite.

Steefie was struggling, and struggled harder when Stranger stood over her with a red-hot blade. “Ah’m sorry, but it’s fer yours- an mine - own good…” He flipped her onto her belly, and sat on her legs. “Now don’ worry Steevie, Ah’m only doin’ this so ya don’t ends up with an infection or somethin’ nasty like tha’.”

Facing Steefie’s rear, Stranger cut some of the web and moved the tail of Steefie’s dress out of the road. He had been thinking how to get around her blood-stained pants, and had concluded that ripping them to reach her wound was the only way to do it without setting her pants on fire.

“This is gonna hurt a lot… but you’ll thank me later when ya don’ get… rabies, or somethin’…” Stranger didn’t dawdle; he felt as uncomfortable putting a red-hot blade to Steefie’s bottom as Steefie herself must have been feeling.

Steefie felt her pants being ripped, and then she felt the blade… that red hot blade… She didn’t just scream as much as a gagged person could because it hurt, she screamed because… well, what happens if he realised what she was…? Well, all that and if someone were to randomly take a snap-shot with a camera it would have looked a little suss. Snap-shots tend to do that to an honestly innocent situation…

Tears were practically spewing from Steefie again. Stranger got up, and cut her free. “Jus’ don’ go sitting on yer butt for now; it’ll be hurtin’ for a whiles yet.”

If Steefie was a two-legged thing, the bullet would have been in her butt cheek; but since she was a Steef who’s rear-end was squashed to make her look like a two-legged thing, and since Steef’s don’t really have much of an arse anyway, the bullet had actually lodged itself in her concealed hind leg. She couldn’t go telling Stranger this, or she’d probably end up as the twenty grand bounty… hopefully he didn’t notice she had a furry ‘bottom’.

She rolled over onto her back without thinking, but very quickly rolled back onto her belly – planting her face on Stranger’s boot. Feeling very stupid, she just gave up and didn’t bother moving in fear of hurting herself again; she was in one of those ‘I just don’t give a shit no more’ states.

Stranger silently laughed at Steefie; he couldn’t help it, when she did that spastic roll thing, it was just so amusing. “Take a nap; we’ll be headin’ back ta town in another hour or so.” He said, hiding his amusement.

Stranger removed his foot from under Steefie’s head. Steefie didn’t move; she just left her chin land in the sand where it landed. Stranger poked her with a stick just to make sure she was still alive. She was definitely alive, however; she had lazily raised one hand (nothing more) and gave him the finger. A few minutes later, she was snoring and snorting sand-grains in her sleep.

!_S_T_E_E_F_!

An hour later, Steefie woke up after having a hat-full of water dumped on her head. Stranger was a safe distance away from the flailing, confused woman. Once Steefie had realised what had happened, she gave Stranger the evil-eye.

“Didja have ta wet ma buns? It makes ‘em heavy; it feels like ah got water melons tacked to ma head!” Steefie bitched, getting up sorely. “… Oh, an before we git movin’, I need ta take a pee. I’ll take a wiz over behind that large rock and bushes… so stay HERE.”

Rolling his eyes, Stranger turned away and sat on the coarse sand. Within a minute, he could hear the tinkle of urine on scrub. It wasn’t exactly pleasant… since he knew it was urine. He kept his mind on other things until Steefie limped back over, washed her hands, and strapped her weapons back on.

She was tightening her last bracer buckle when Stranger started to walk off. She followed, limping behind him. “Phew, damn sun; ah should invest in a wider-brimmed hat.”

Stranger looked over his shoulder, and looked at the excuse of a hat Steefie had on, wedged between her buns. “I somehow don’ think a wider brimmed hat would fit on ya head with those big white things you got stuck to the sides of your head.”

“Those big white things keep ma hat on. Do you really think I’d still have a hat on after the happenings of the past twenty four hours it my hat wasn’t somehow attached to ma head!? It’s wedged good and propped ‘tween ma buns.”

Stranger looked forward again, and snickered. “What’s so funny?” Steefie asked suspiciously. “Did a bird poop on me or somethin’? Wait a minute… Dammit, you have such a dirty mind! You need a lesson on innocence boy.”

“Me?” Stranger said ‘innocently’. “Why, ahm the most innocent thing in Mongo Valley.”

“Pig’s arse…” Snorted Steefie, under her breath.

The sun was too unbearable for Steefie. It was burning her face and her hands; she could feel it. She caught up to Stranger, not wanting to lag behind. She flipped the tail of her dress up and, and tried to bring it over the top of her head; however it was not long enough. Giving up, Steefie ripped a lump of long grass out of the ground and lay it across her head.

“You look… stunning.” Stranger commented. “That could be tha new fashion ‘round ‘ere. Lumpy grass shade-hats…”

“Hey at least it works fine; except it keeps poking ma eyes…”

Out of the blue, Stranger decided to ask Steefie a question. “Doya have a bounty on ya?”

“Erwa!?” Steefie made a random noise in surprise… she had forgotten… Bob was the Bounty Hunter after a Steef head! She played it calm though… “Er… well, hey, you aint gonna hand me over or somethin’ are ya? I mean, please remember Bob, ahm bein’ blackmailed. And hell, I haven’t murdered no poor sod! Well, ‘less you counts Outlaws…”

“I aint gonna hand you over… you aint an Outlaw. But if ya gots a bounty on ya head, tha’ might go makin’ life harder for ya.”

Steefie could see that Stranger meant her no harm; so, she decided not to lie… entirely. “Well, Ah have got one bounty on me…”

“Is it a big bounty?” Stranger asked.

Steefie kept it casual. “Yeah, it’s pretty big; luckily, though, they haven’t been able to identify me… They just gots a price on tha head of the person responsible, so to speak.”

Yeah, a twenty grand bounty… Steefie thought to herself.

“So whats you gonna do, when we gets ta town?” Steefie asked, changing the subject.

“Well first I gotsta hand over Loud Mouth Liam so Ah c’n get his bounty.”

“…So you can get the bounty?”

Stranger sighed. Steefie wasn’t going to forget the bounty; not that he expected her to… but, still… would have been nice not to have to split a bounty… “…So we can get the bounty…”

“That’s a good Bob,” Steefie said cheerfully, reaching up and pinching his cheek. “Hell, Ah only gotta pay back that Clakker – Henry ah think ‘is name was. If ma share o’ the Moolah is more than ah need, you c’n have the excess. I only wants to pay back that retard so ah don’ have to worry ‘bout ‘im anymore.”

Rubbing his cheek, where Steefie had pinched it, Stranger smiled and said gleefully, “Well if yew don’ want it, I aint gonna turn down the offer of some more Moolah.”

“So, you savin’ up fer somethin’, like home, or somethin’?” Steefie asked. “Or do yew like shoppin’? I love shoppin’! Although ah don’t always, uh, pay for it… but I only does that if a really needs somethin’.”

“We all gotsta live, don’t we?” Stranger replied; he had done some pilfering himself… but only because he had to.

“What’s the weirdest thing ya ever stole?” Steefie asked. “I once pilfered a potty outta some young Clakker’s bed room, ha ha ha! Tubbo wanted somethin’ big enough ta drink a couple of gallons of grog from… an’ I wanted a lil’ revenge… he still don’t know what it was used for.”

Stranger gave Steefie the weirdest look, before laughing. “Heh! Heh! Heh! He’s really into the piss, aint he?”

!_S_T_E_E_F_!

Within another two hours and a bit, the pair reached the elevator to town. It was now about four in the arvo. Stranger had his ears talked off; once Steefie got talking, she didn’t stop. She did most of the talking – Stranger barely got a word in.

It had been alright, listening to Steefie talking about the Mongo Plains, trannies, Tubbo (and how revolting he was), and how she had lived while with the Outlaws as their slave. But since about half an hour before they reached town, Steefie had started to complain about being hungry… and she wouldn’t stop talking about cheese. Why cheese was so nice, her favourite cheese (a cheese with fruit in it, which she couldn’t find anywhere recently), mouldy cheese, how cheese makes you constipated, the history of cheese, rare cheese, cheap cheese, expensive cheese… and now she was trying to figure out why Swiss cheese had holes in it.

“…I wonder; when the cheese is all gooey, and liquid, like yew know how they make ice-cream an’ it’s all liquid ‘fore it sets? Maybe Swiss cheese is like tha’… an’ the people who makes it uses straws to blow bubbles in it.”

The pair walked onto the elevator, and it started to go down. “Oh an’ don’t forget Bob, yew owes me three pieces o’ cheese.”

“Three!?”

“Yeah; one to replace the one you ate, and then the two you promised me if let you get the bullet out.”

The elevator came to ground level, and they stepped off. “Tha’s no fair,” Stranger said, “You didn’ let me get the bullet out; I jus’ did it without askin’!”

Steefie stood in front of Stranger and halted him. She took hold of his goatee beard, and firmly but gently pulled Stranger’s face down so his eyes were level with her own. The raised a hand, and wriggled her three middle finger. “… You owe me Three pieces of cheese…”

Stranger tried to protest, but Steefie pulled on his goatee so his eyes were even closer. “Three.” she said, wriggling her fingers again.

Giving into the woman’s relentlessness, Stranger rolled his eyes grumbling. “Alright I’ll get ya your stupid cheese…”

“Thanks Bob.” Steefie winked, and let Stranger’s goatee beard go. “Now then; to the Bounty Store!”

On the way to the Bounty Store, Henry spotted them. The Clakker was trying to fix his wagon’s door; he finished what he was doing and ran over to catch up to them. “Steevie, I hopes yew got that bounty! You owe me big time!”

Steefie wasn’t in the mood for taking crap from a Clakker. “Ah jus’ shuddup Henry; I’m hungry, and gots a sore hind. You’ll git yer Moolah, jus’ stay near yer wagon an’ I’ll come fix ya up once we gets our bounty.”

“An’ make sure ya do, or I’ll-” The Clakker was interrupted by a very angry growl from Steefie. “…Okay, I’ll jus’ go waits by ma wagon…”

Stranger and Steefie continued to the Bounty Store. As soon as they walked in, they were greeted by the clerk. “Howdy, Stranger, howdy lass! So, who got Loud Mouth Liam? Me an’ ma friends made some bets…”

“Well ah hopes ya didn’t wager too much…” Stranger said, walking up to the counter and placing his Outlaw can on the bench. “ ‘Cause we both got ‘im. We’re splittin’ the bounty.”

“Ah, jus’ great! I betted that you’d get the bounty… oh well, let’s get down ta business.”

Now don’t y’all go doin’ none o’ this crazy stuff at home, will ya? Anyway, that’s the end o’ chapter 3!