BOBBY HOBBS .. HOBGOBLIN SUPREME:
Another cheesy story by Vork and Badger
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PART-2:

Bobby Hobbs rode the orvak through the forest looking for more monster snacks until they happened upon a pair of great-goblins. The great-goblins were Kreek and Blarfaymog, both high-ranking officers in the Goblin Horde. The two cretins were taken aback by the mere hob-goblin's mastery of the powerful orvak and immediately wanted to acquire the orvak as a weapon to use against their hated brownie enemies.

"Hey, worm! Dismount that beast and show us how you've trained it!" exclaimed Kreek.

"Yes! Give him to us now, weak worm, and we'll use this fine animal to restart the war against those brownie vermin!" added Blarfaymog.

"Don't call me 'worm', you pieces of pogdoddle!" commanded the super-confident Bobby.

The orvak had already had enough of this discussion, but hadn't had enough to eat so the beastie snatched up the two great-goblins and ate them. The goblins squealed like pigs as they were crushed in the orvak's powerful jaws.

Bobby smirked at the great-goblins' misfortune and thought to himself, "No more 'worm' for me! Soon the Bright Folk and the Goblin Horde will both call me King Bobby the Great, Rider of the Mighty Orvak!"

The orvak belched a satisfying burp, and thought to himself that he liked the taste of great-goblins better than the fishy taste of the Lottawatta gait-a-dials, which he had found very appetizing indeed.

Bobby reached into an inner pocket of his green, gait-a-dial jerkin and withdrew a folded parchment. He then consulted the map that he never traveled without which he had bought from an itinerant tinker pixie. It showed most of the Kingdom of Twoozle, all the villages, and points of interest.

Caution signs were splattered here and there on the map as places to avoid. Yapple Orchard was approximately four furlongs (half a mile) at about ten o’clock to Bobby’s present direction. Those dogg-puddlin' sprites were like airborne piranhas, and many an unwary traveler ended up as bleached bones on the sward.

Witch Hazel’s cavern was about five furlongs at two o’clock to his current heading. Haunted Woods was twelve furlongs straight ahead at twelve o’clock. Bobby felt confident that he was clear of all pitfalls, at least that’s what the map denoted. He put it back in his jerkin pocket, and dug in his heels. The silver Foley Huck souvenir spurs tickled his massive steed, and it lurched forward with a hoot of orvak laughter, blowing a large cluster of proslakker bushes out of the ground.

"Hi-ho, Orvak, awaaaaay!" yodeled Bobby, as he steered the orvak toward Haunted Woods. He loved yodeling that so much he did it again. "Hi-ho, Orvak, awaaaaay! Hahahahahaaaaah!" A furlong ahead (660 feet), digging in a sandy spot for golden-stuff, Bobby noticed a hunched figure dressed in black.

The hunched figure in black was Tuban Grabb. Tuban is a brownie who wanders all of the lands about, seeking a legendary treasure horde that was reputed to be guarded by a dragon called ‘The Krymson Watcher"

Grabb had been obsessed with finding the treasure since he was a wee one and had devoted his life to this quest. The strange old codger would chat the ear off of anyone he encountered about the treasure so he was generally avoided by all who saw him coming.

"Hey! Hey there, you two!" called out Tuban to Bobby and the orvak. "Have you heard any news about treasure and such?"

"Oh, fuddle," thought Bobby, "That crazy old brownie will hold us up and he ain't got any meat on his bones for the big fella, so we'd better haul our posteriors right outta here!"

***

Meanwhile, back in the Village of Twonk the village moat-digging crew was hard at work, but they stopped to stare at a skimpily-clad female that was riding into town on a large white unicorn. The woman was Sabrina Sly, a half-elf who was considered to be the sexiest girl in the land. Sabrina was also a deadly shot with her longbow and was a skilled huntress.

The crew was speechless at the sight of Sabrina's supreme body that was concealed only by interlocking leather straps. The whole crew couldn't even manage to utter a greeting.

Sabrina rode up to the digging crew and said, "Greetings, lads! I'm Sabrina Sly and I hear you have a beast that needs hunting. I plan to do the hunting and claim any reward that's available."

The moat crew finally gathered themselves enough to speak and told Sabrina that a meeting on what to do about the orvak was going to start in two hours at the town's amphitheater in the village square.

Sabrina thanked the Twonkers for the info and then jumped back onto her steed and rode into town. Mistress Sly figured that her old friend Thornapple was likely to be involved in a monster-mess this large. She also deduced that he'd be at the village pub, Ye Olde Booze Kegge, getting loaded so she rode on over to said establishment to look the old boy up.

When Sabrina walked into the pub all eyes immediately locked onto her incredible body in amazement. The brownie seated on the nearest end of the bar got big-eyed and spewed beer out of his mouth and nose, barely missing Sabrina with the spray.

"Anything we can help ya with, miss?" enquired the barkeep.

"Yeah," replied Sabrina, "I'll take a double whoopski straight up and I'm lookin' for Thornapple Starwatcher."

Thornapple stood up from his seat at a back corner booth and said, "Come on back and have a seat, Sabrina!"

"Put her drinks on my tab!" said Thorn to the barkeep.

Sabrina took her double whoopki over and joined Thornapple, Stonecrusher, and Lonesome at their table in the booth.

***

Bobby Hobbs steered the orvak to the right to avoid Grabb’s gab. As luck would have it, Hazel’s slightly-dressed daughter, Darnella, was gathering herbs for mommy dearest a few furlongs from the cave. Darnella had much better uses for goblin gonads than her cannibalistic mother, and the lusty wench kept an eye out for any male citizen in the Kingdom of Twoozle who might stray her way.

Bobby needed to relieve himself, so he slid from the saddle and undid his fly next to a tree. A golden stream issued forth.

Darnella had heard the orvak shaking the earth as he moved toward her herb patch. She saw the hob-goblin dismount from his gigantic steed. Her sharp eyes took in the sight of Bobby’s appendage and her eyes lit up as Bobby whacked it against the tree to shake off any droplets still clinging. "Thump, thump, thump!" went Bobby’s whacker.

Darnella cast a spell of docility on the orvak, and waited by his head, stroking his ear holes, for Bobby to remount. "Hi there, big-boy," she greeted Bobby.

Bobby was taken by surprise at the scene, and stopped dead in his tracks. Bobby’s appendage took note of the exceeding good looks of Darnella in her revealing witch costume.

“Hello, there, Miss Badfloggin. How are you doing?" greeted Bobby.

“Lusty as ever!" responded the precocious nymphette. “Ya wanna gorble?"

“Are you kiddin' me? Oh, yeah, bay-bee!"

They were about to indulge in a lengthy gorble-a-thon, when suddenly the orvak, who had up till now urinated once since his awakening, decided to have a dump as well. He had ingested unicorn herds, gait–a-dials, great-goblins, and sundry other protein sources, and was now twice his original size. With a noise like a volcano blowing its top, the orvak defecated, and the fetid stench overpowered any feelings of lust the young couple had. Luckily for them the orvak was facing the gagging pair.

In a moment of delirium, Bobby swept up Darnella in his strong arms, and jumped astride the saddle on the orvak’s neck. The orvak, now much lighter, broke into a lope to get away from his own foul excrescences, and with digs from Bobby’s Foley Huck souvenir spurs headed straight for Haunted Woods.

"Hi-ho, orvak, blaaaarrrppp!" ralphed Bobby as he puked to the left while Darnella daintily vomited to the right.

The area evacuated was to remain toxic for months to come, and, as terrud-grass and zee-coeli bushes covered the sizeable mound, it would be known hereafter as Mount Orvak.

"So, what's the deal with us going into the Haunted Woods, Bobby?" inquired Darnella later, "Supposedly nobody comes outta there alive."

"Well, I found something in the Haunted Woods this winter that's gonna make me extremely rich and powerful," replied Bobby. "With the big fella's help I'm gonna be able to get it finally."

"Really? What is it?" asked Darnella.

"You'll see," said Bobby.

What Bobby Hobbs had found was the lair of the Krymson Watcher and, if legend holds, the treasure horde that the dragon guards should be inside said lair. Bobby plans on having the orvak take out the dragon so he can nab the loot.

Little did Bobby and Darnella know that Tuban Grabb was following them at a safe distance as they approached the Haunted Woods.

***

Water ran out of Lake Lottawatta into Froggy Bog and thence down into Twonk Valley, to become Twonk Creek. Back in the Village of Twonk, the diggers had tapped into Twonk Creek to feed the moat, which was fifty feet wide and twenty-five feet deep. The excavated soil was piled up along the sides, a hundred feet from the newly fortified village walls, which were clad in fieldstone, bonded with mortar from Lime Pits on Elsewhere Island.

The ‘Troll Brothers Shipping Company" had imported the mortar for Gorno Corporation, which made a healthy profit fortifying the village. Gorno had recently opened a ‘Dig-All Store" selling digging and masonry supplies such as picks and shovels, mortar, trowels and hods.

Gorno had also invented the Sunbeam Diggerator, which was run by a spell cast by his like-mate, Hilda Matilda that converted sunlight to motive power. With his profits from other ventures he had purchased Gnome Factory and had the assembly lines run off fifty units in record time.

Miss Ima Lustiwun, Treasurer of the Town Council, and an orvak-phoebic, was only too glad to divert funds to speed up the digging of the moat around Twonk using Diggerators. Gorno also became union boss of the USDO, Union of Sunbeam Diggerator Operators, and collected dues from the local yokels who qualified as operators.

With the moat now completed, gait-a-dials from Lake Lottawatta, and frenzy-fish, their main diet, found their way into it. Frenzy-fish resembled piranha, and went into a feeding frenzy when some unfortunate mammal entered the water. They also ate organic garbage to round out their intake of sustenance.

Not many of the brownie folk went outside of the village walls these days, except to toss organic garbage and recently deceased old townfolk into the moat, now known as Boot Moat.

Gorno Corporation Undertakers and Sanitary Engineers made a healthy profit there also. Needless to say, the UUSE padded Gorno’s bank account with weekly dues.

Meanwhile back at Ye Olde Booze Kegge, Sabrina, Thornapple, Gorno, Stonecrusher, Lonesome, and other local characters of note were discussing the upcoming meeting at Twonk Amphitheater.

***

Out in the wilderness, Darnella's pleasantly plump posterior was giving Bobby's procreative appendage a fricative workout, as she bounced up and down on his lap with each of the orvak's ponderous prances. Bobby forgot about treasure, and even nose gorbling. Thoughts of diddling darling Darnella in rites of porniferous procreation proliferated within his musing male mind. Bobby was ardently in lust!

***

The Haunted Woods had sprung up around the site of an ancient battle that took place over ten thousand years ago during the Third Primal Age. The fight was between the Bright Folk and the Goblin Horde. The Goblin Horde were aided by a dark wizard named Criblin. The evil power expended by Criblin gave the goblins victory in the struggle. However, in the end the tremendous forces unleashed by the wizard devoured both sides and Criblin himself.

Now the spirits of the dead-in-battle inhabit the forest, locked in eternal combat. The undead and various demonic hosts also walk there. Fearsome and unnatural creatures such as Szkyszyken wander the forest in large packs as well.

The only current living mortal beings to have escaped the Haunted Woods and lived to tell the tale are Bobby Hobbs and Sabrina Sly.

***

Earlier, at the Twonk Amphitheatre there was a great deal of very contentious talk and disagreement about what to do about the orvak. Gorno took the stage after Mayor Dooley and offered a reward of a hundred thousand gold coins for whoever could rid Twonk of the orvak threat. Lonesome Bumpkin also spoke up about his desire to avenge his pony's death at the hands of the beastie.

All attendants agreed that something must be done to save the town. However, the crowd wasn't moved to bravery even with Gorno's generous reward on the table.

"You'd be crazier than a bograt to go after that damn thing!" opined Farmer Twopence, "Nobody's fool enough ta try ta claim your reward, Gorno!"

"Ahem," said Thornapple as he took the stage, "As a matter of fact we have a party of volunteers ready to go after the orvak. Please stand, my friends."

Gorno, Sabrina, and Lonesome all stood and joined Thorn on the stage. "Are there any other volunteers?" asked the wizard.

Gorvin Stonecrusher stood and berated the four volunteers. "Ya know fromulatin' well that Warrior Dwarfs are not daunted by the frogdoddlin' orvak, ya buncha puny porfluggers! Why didn’t cha include me in yer plans till now? Ya know ya need some muscle along on this quest! And, by the way, I sent a pigeon message to my cousin, Warrior Gorvin Rockbasher, who says he is very interested in orvak huntin' "

"Sorry, Warrior Stonecrusher, you were not available when we drew up plans for the original quest. Where have you been for the last few days?" asked Gorno.

"Errr, I picked up a Nez-Gorb Model-1 cheap from Hilda Matilda’s Herb Shoppe and was experimenting a bit. That Frigidia Hotpants, errr, Stonepants, has become some kind of gorble nymph since she was broken in by that there Sexton Pornchannel last week, and the three of us wuz doin' some experiments together," mumbled Stonecrusher, a little red in the nose.

"Well yer welcome ta join us, and yer cousin too, Stonecruncher!" put in Thornapple.

"That’s StoneCRUSHER, spellcaster, an' don’t cha ferget it neither!" advised the Battle Dwarf shaking his mace at the wizard.

Thorny mumbled a spell, and twiddled his fingers. Gorvin dropped his mace, which had become a slimy eel. "Fromulatin' snog! Cut that out ya little flerper or I will use my bare hands on yer scrawny neck!" responded the dwarf.

"Boys, boys, stop this bickering this instant!" ordered Sabrina. "We have to work together if we want to succeed in our quest."

No other volunteers came forth, and the meeting broke up. The fearless five departed to discuss plans at Doozie’s Diner over korphee and beebleberry flodgitts. Just after they ordered, the door burst open and Warrior Rockbasher walked in swinging his hammer-of-death and humming a dirge. Introductions were made, and the group of six settled down to plan their forthcoming mission.

"These here flodgitt things are fromulatin' good!" quoth Rockbasher to Daisy Disher as he re-ordered another platterful.

Daisy blushed pinkly and thanked the muscle-bound dwarf, to whom she took an instant liking.

Stonecrusher looked her over a couple of times, and licked his lips. "These aren’t the only things tasty around here, I’m bettin' ," he added with a leer.

Daisy blushed crimson, and blew him a kiss. "Right on, handsome!" she replied. "I like courageous guys, especially ones who would do battle with a monster!"

The others looked at each other with raised eyebrows. "OK, you two, we have plans to make. Save that for after the battle!" suggested Sabrina.

***

Bobby and Darnella saw some signs. "TURN BACK!" read the first sign posted along the trail leading through the Haunted Woods.

As the orvak and his two riders got even closer a second sign came into view: "YE BE FOOLES TO ENTER THIS PLAYCE! YE'LL DIE HEREIN!"

A third sign simply had a skull and crossbones painted on it.

Bobby laughed off the warnings. Darnella was growing increasingly nervous about entering the woods, but Bobby seemed very confident that everything would be alright since they had the orvak to protect them. Darnella decided not to worry and just give it a go. What's the worst that could happen anyway? The orvak trudged on into the Haunted Woods with his two passengers aboard.

The gigantic trees there seemed different than trees anywhere else. They were all old, gnarled, and asymmetric. The soil was jet black and spongy. Vines and very large spider webs formed thick lattices all around in the woods off the trail. There were no sounds of birds chirping anywhere in the forest, and the stench of decay in the air was nearly overpowering.

A Szkyszyk scout was watching the entrance to the Haunted Woods and saw the orvak enter. The horrific predator followed the orvak and his passengers silently and out of sight among the trees.

The Szkyszyk began to excrete a pheromone scent from it's pores for his fellow pack members to follow. It also began emitting high frequency linguistic bleeps to notify the other Szkyszyken in its pack that it was time to join in on a kill. Bobby and Darnella couldn't hear the bleeps, but the orvak could.

"Gee, Bobby, the Haunted Woods obviously suck, but we haven't seen anything scary or dangerous yet," observed Darnella.

"Well, Miss D," replied Bobby, "It's just a matter of time before we may get in deep guano, but don't worry. I know right where we're going and the Big Fella here can take out anything I saw in these woods last winter."

It was getting dark so Bobby decided they'd need to set up camp and continue on at first light, because even at the orvak's prodigious walking pace they were still six hours away from the extinct volcano that houses the Krymson Watcher's lair.

Meanwhile the Szkyszyk scout and his pack of a dozen other Szkyszyken were quietly observing the orvak and his riders from off the trail. The hunters were waiting for their quarry to be at a moment of maximum disadvantage before they began their attack.

It was getting chilly as well as dark. Bobby chose a spot to camp on the top of a rocky hillock in an open area. The orvak settled down and curled up like a cat, impervious to the temperature or the lumpy bed site.

Bobby gathered some snuggle-moss for bedding from the nearby woods. He and Darnella curled up under the orvak’s musty and hairy armpit for warmth. Darnella also wrapped her long black cape around herself and Bobby for additional comfort. For Bobby it was pure bliss holding Darnella’s nearly nude female form in the soft, warm bed. Slowly they both became aware of the sexual tension generated by the situation, and Darnella yielded to her natural nympho nature. She had never had a hob-goblin before and took full advantage of Bobby’s urgent needs.

While the frenzied pair were madly trysting, with occasional intervals of nez-gorble as "icing on the cake", the Szkyszyken horde were advancing from all directions of the clock to ascend the rocky hillock.

The orvak heard the leader’s bleep of glee as they stealthily approached their prey. Big mistake on the leader’s part; The orvak reached out his huge head on his long neck and plucked the hapless victim from the rocks, tossed him into the air, and swallowed him without chewing. A sizzling sound issued from the orvak’s gut as the Szkyszyk dissolved in the monster’s stomach acids.

The orvak picked off another Szkyszyk, but this time he chewed once and decided he liked the taste. With a rapid swirl of his long neck, he completed the circle of twelve, and emitted a satisfied burp. Bobby and Darnella were still in the throes of passion and never heard a thing, except for the burp.

Also unbeknownst to the frenzied pair, as the result of their tryst a little female goblitch would be entering the Kingdom of Twoozle in a few months time. Luckily for Darnella, her horns would grow out a few months after her birth.

TO BE CONTINUED:

Shotgun Smith and the Tumbleweed Stage:
(A group story by Vork and OUR social group members)

At a poker table in Dicken’s Creek’s only saloon, ‘The Gold Nugget’, Ox Higgins was saying, "You boys want another victim? I'm loaded fer bear."

The teamster said, "Sure. Set in. Table stakes, five dollars limit."

The players moved to make room, and Higgins dragged a chair over from the next table.

Shotgun Smith walked in and hollered, "Ox, what the hell're ya doin'? The team was hooked up half an hour ago, an' the baggage is loaded, an' the passengers is waitin'"

Higgins looked Smith up and down. He looked at his cigar, put it in his mouth, and took a long drag. He blew the smoke in Smith’s face saying, "Waal, Smitty, I just up'n quit right this here goddam minute."

"You quit?" Shotgun said. His face was flushed. "With a coach full of US mail an' passengers! What am I supposed to do fer a driver?"

The big room was still and everyone was watching. "Aah, shove yer goddam passengers an’ stagecoach an’ mail," retorted Ox.

Shotgun hit him a good one in the mouth and it spun him around. Higgins grabbed onto the back of a chair and didn't go down. His little piggy eyes were seeing red. He charged Smith swinging.

Tantalizing Tilly sashayed her skirt and caught the red light in Higgins's eye. "Them horses is already hitched ... but I ain't," she purred .

Big Ox’s left jab missed Shotgun by a foot, as he fastened his lustful gaze on Tilly’s abundant charms. This was all that saved Shotgun from disaster.

Ox was twenty-eight, six foot two, two hundred and forty pounds of muscle. On the other hand, Smith was a cantankerous sixty-five, five foot nine and a hundred and fifty pounds soaking wet.

While Ox was distracted, Shotgun smacked him with a chair, and the big guy fell like a sack of ‘taters.

"Thanks, Darlin’, I owe ya one," said Smith to his daughter.

"Anytime, Pops. I don’t wanna be an orphan jest yet!" and she kissed him on the forehead and gently tugged his white beard.

"OK, pards, whose gonna drive the Tumbleweed Stage? Good pay, long hours, travel and see the sights!"

From the end of the bar, Butch Faraday, freshly discharged from the cavalry due to completion of tour of duty, and low on cash, spoke up. "Ah’ll do it jest fer you, ol’ timer, ta get ya off’n the hook today."

"Great, Butch," said Shotgun "Put yer X on this here application an’ get yer can inta the driver’s seat quick, before Ox wakes up."

Five minutes later the stage was headed for the next town, Buzzard Gulch.

Ox Higgins was reviving and wondering why his head hurt. "Too much rotgut, Ox?" asked Tantalizing Tilly Smith, as she helped him to his feet.

Meanwhile on the trail to Buzzard Gulch Butch was eyeing a distant dust cloud and wondering what was behind it, literally. The dust cloud grew larger. As it got closer, Smith could discern about four riders coming fast. "Company!" he yelled at Faraday. Butch geed the team and Shotgun pumped two shells into the chamber of his double-barreled namesake. A Winchester rifle was in the boot as backup.

As the stage careened along the dusty and bumpy trail a passenger, pretty Miss Penny Pilferd, was jostled and fell across the bank manager, Percy Tillingate’s lap. Poor Percy was overcome with a fit of blushing and barely concealed longing, which momentarily took his mind off the approaching riders.

Miss Penny, who was of meager means, used this opportunity to collect loose change that had fallen from Percy’s pocket to the seat. This she put into her bodice for safe keeping.

"It’s them consarned Durango brothers," said Shotgun, as he saw their Mexican hats. "By the way, Butch, apart from that there other stuff I mentioned, we have the Holedra Mine payroll under the passenger seat."

"Oh, friggin’ crap!" retorted Faraday.

"Also, I fergot ta mention, pay is seventy-five cents a day plus meals an’ lodgin’s," said Shotgun, "Not too bad fer a young, single feller. They’ll throw in any ammo you use on behalf of the Tumbleweed Line. If’n yer gits kilt they’ll throw in a pine box and a six foot hole too."

"Lucky, friggin’ me!" responded Faraday.

"I can’t see so good without mah glasses," said Smith. "That’s why ah use a shotgun, but have to be close up tah shoot it."

"Friggin’ marvellous!" exclaimed Butch, as a Durango bullet whistled past his ear.

Shotgun fired both barrels. The lead rider’s head exploded in a pink mist, and what was left of Jose Durango’s hat flew away into the cloud of dust behind.

The body fell to the trail and the second brother’s mount tripped over it. Felix Durango went head over heels on the hard ground, stunned and scraped raw.

The other two lost valuable time helping him back into the saddle. Cursing loudly at the loss of Jose they spurred their horses to even more effort.

“Hell’s teeth,” thought Butch, “I am gonna need more than average luck to get out of this.” All he had was his trusty old revolver his dad had bequeathed him with his dying breath. Cursing as he heaved on the reins to keep the horses to the trail he fumbled for the gun. At this point there was a long thin scream and he turned his head just in time to see one of the Durango's dragging Miss Penny from the rocking coach. Hanging on to her for dear life was a determined and white-faced Percy.

"Fugg mee!" yelled Butch as Shotgun fired another two barrels barely missing his ear and temporarily deafening him.

Luckily for Miss Penny, Shotgun’s last volley had only blown the Mexican hat off Juan Durango, who was busy fondling young Penny’s abundant charms.

"Let me go, you filthy man! I’ll tell my pa on you!" cried the molested miss.

Durango showed his strong white teeth, which set off his Spanish goatee and mustache. Then he kissed her with Latin passion.

"Oh my! Oh my! that was so ..." Miss Penny’s teenage heart was thumping wildly as she clung to Juan’s strongly muscled left bicept. Juan veered to the left with his prize, out of range of Shotgun’s weapon.

Shotgun was busily reloading, but a bump made him drop the shells into the footwell. Faraday turned his head again briefly, but there was nobody to shoot at.

Inside the coach, a third passenger, Slick Nick McQuick, card sharp extraordinaire, was rolling a cigarette with his left hand as Enrico tried his luck boarding the stage.

"Ah, my good man," said Slick Nick. "Did you ever hear the expression ‘EAT LEAD’?" as he pulled a Derringer from his waistband and fired into Enrico’s gleaming teeth with his right hand.

Enrico fell from the stage mortally wounded, his senorita-winning smile ruined forever.

Slick Nick replaced the small gun, and lit his cigarette, noting meanwhile that Percy had fainted and was lying on the floor.

Up on top, Smith handed Butch the Winchester and some slugs. "Here, young fellah, you can do more with this ‘n ah can!" He found his shells and reloaded his trusty shotgun, Ole Betsy. "Where‘n hell is Felix?"

Felix had found Enrico’s body on the trail and stripped it of all but the underwear, which he didn’t particularly fancy, since death releases all muscles in the corpse.

He dragged his brother’s remains off the trail and piled rocks on it to protect it from coyotes. Later he would get a wagon from the hideout and haul the remains home. Mamacita Durango was going to do some mighty loud wailing tonight!

He did the same for Jose, and headed off home with the two extra horses, one of which was limping due to its fall. That lucky Juan was getting all the benefits from this excursion.

Back in the bushes, Juan and Miss Penny were enjoying themselves immensely, especially the now-immodest Miss Penny, who was participating with wild abandon.

Meanwhile, Shotgun and Butch can see the first shacks. Faraday geed the team, and the coach started rolling. "Five minutes ta Buzzard Gulch," hollered Shotgun for the benefit of the passengers.

"Yahoo!" exclaimed Butch loudly. "Ah wonder if Miss Milly remembers me afore I joined the cavalry?" He grinned broadly as he reminisced over past delights.

For Shotgun it was going to be a relief to get off this hard, wooden seat for a few hours, and Old Sally might be waiting to greet him.

The stage pulled into the depot. It was the end of the line, and tomorrow they would begin the return run to Carson City.

Percy and Slick disembarked. Both checked into the ‘Sleazy Arms Hotel’. Percy got a meal with the dollar Slick had unselfishly flipped to him out of his winnings, and Slick had drifted into the ‘Silver Dollar’ casino.

A hostler unhitched the team to be rubbed down and fed. Tomorrow a fresh team would be hitched to the stage for the return trip. Armed guards took the strongbox, mail, and Miss Penny's luggage into the depot, and signed the receipt for Shotgun.

Shotgun and Butch went over to the Sheriff’s Office to report the Durango affair. The mayor of Buzzard Gulch, Anonymous Stevens, was in there talking to Sexton Varlence, the sheriff, as they walked in. Both stopped talking and looked at the boys with disgruntled expressions.

"Waddaya want, hombres?" asked Varlence in a surly tone, pissed at being interrupted in mid-confab with his honor. "An’ be quick about tellin' it!"

"Kidnappin', an’ two corpses!" said Smith tersely.

"S'that all? Well I guess you had to report it, but I doubt whoever it was will be missed around here," grumbled Varlance. He brightened for a moment "Any family likely to pay fer a funeral? I can do 'em special terms.”

"Not this scum!" Smith told him. "The Durango's bury their own!"

This news interested Varlence. The Durangos were darn pests around town cheating at cards, picking a fight with anybody anytime and generally stopping folks sleeping peaceful at night.

"Hey," he said, "you done us a favor, Shotgun, a helluva favor! I reckon this town owes you and Butch a whisky or two."

With that they all turned for the walk to ‘The Silver Dollar’ saloon. The mayor reckoned his emergency relief fund could easily cover a couple of whiskies. Soon they were all drinking some of Buzzard Gulch's best rotgut. Shotgun had already spotted Old Sally smiling at him from the shadows and Butch had one girl on his lap and one either side of him. His honor was mellowing out a treat and Varlance was discussing the state of the cattle trade.

Suddenly the air of camaraderie was shattered by the sound of screams, gunshots and galloping hooves on the street outside.

Old Seymore Beavers came running in in a panic. "Duck, boys, its Bat Guano an’ his crowd, a’ shootin’ up the place. They jes’ came out’n the bank with some money-bags."

The mayor looked at Varlence. "Do yer job, sonny! Fer a buck-fifty a day we expect performance here in Buzzard Gulch."

"Git stuffed, ‘Nonymous. I aint pokin’ mah head out’n that there door till he’s on his way outta town," responded the notorious ladies’ man."

"Well, ya bin pokin’ mah niece, so now do yer job ‘n poke yer other head out’n the door an’ shoot that there sucker!"

Shotgun didn’t say a word, but stepped out onto the sidewalk, and let Bat Guano have both barrels of Ole Betsy. Butch stepped out and drilled both Bat’s accomplices with two shots of his Colt 44.

The Mayor chastised Varlence in front of the crowd. "Ya crummy coward, Varlence. This ol’ fart an’ his pard done yer job fer ya. Yer fired!"

Applause and cheering followed. Sexton had been canoodling with every guy in town’s daughters, girlfriends, and wives, but they couldn’t report it to the sheriff, because he was the culprit.

The Mayor beamed. "Mister Smith, an’ Mister Faraday, I hereby appoint yez sheriff an' deputy, if’n you’ll take the job. Pay is a buck-fifty a day. Raise yer right hands an’ repeat after me ....."

"Make it two bucks a day an' yer on, yer honor!" responded Shotgun, with a wink at Butch. "Ya'll hafta git two more boys ta run the stage back ta Tumbleweed. Its only seventy-five cents a day, but ya don't git shot at too much!"

Shotgun sent a telegraph to Tillie at Dicken’s Creek to say he was now Sheriff of Buzzard Gulch and would be home for a visit on Sunday. He could borrow a horse and do the thirty miles in four and a half hours, with a stop for brewing coffee and resting his mount at the half-way point.

Butch had no family so he could do the Sunday shift by himself. There was a deputy, Clem Dodson, who could spell him whenever he needed to take some time away from duty. Faraday had Mondays off, and he would spend it and his pay in ‘The Silver Dollar’ entertaining saloon girls in the upstairs rooms.

Meanwhile, back at the Durango hideout, Mamacita had welcomed Miss Penny as Juan’s concubine. Felix had brought the dead brothers home on a buckboard, and a funeral service with Juan reading the Bible had been performed, with Mamacita wailing all the way through it.

Felix and Juan made plans to visit Buzzard Gulch and teach Shotgun, Butch, and Slick Nick a well deserved lesson in Spanish torture.

Back in Buzzard Gulch there was a ruckus over at the Silver Dollar. Slick Nick had been caught cheating at cards, and had been shot by Ivan Chercash.

Shotgun took Ivan to the lockup, and Butch sent someone to get the doc. They got Slick onto a back room table when the doc got there and he kicked out all the rubber-neckers.

Doctor Willie Hackemoff did his best to make Slick comfortable and gave him a hefty dose of laudanum for the pain. Laudanum is a narcotic consisting of an alcohol solution of opium, so Slick was a bit dopey when Shotgun returned.

"Hey youse guys, I got no family and I'm gonna croak soon, ha ha ha-haaa, ain’t that a corker!" Slick blurbled. "Ya look like ya could find the loot if anyone can, Smitty, ha ha ha-haaa. Ya look jes’ like a prospector, y’old fart, ha ha ha-haaa. I want ya to have this map I won in a card game and give half the treasure to Card Sharps Anonymous in my name. Keep the other ha ha ha-haaalf fer yaself. OOOhhhh, what’s that bright red light, ain’t it purty, its so warm lookin’, so ...... errrrkkk."

Shotgun took the map from the dead man’s hand. The boys left the corpse in the care of Doc Hackemoff, and hurried back to the jail to study the map. It showed the Mad Coyote Mine to be located northeast of Buzzard Gulch and about 20 miles away from the Holedra mine. The two decided to be partners in the mine if it yielded any silver.

The next morning Shotgun swore in another deputy to assist Clem Dodson. They bought a mule named Banjo, loaded him with some prospecting gear and supplies, and headed out toward their first marker, Kabonga Buttes.

Meanwhile Mamacita Durango had planned out the exquisite tortures Juan and Felix were to perform on Shotgun, Butch, and Slick Nick. She had no idea that Slick was beyond her refined methods of retribution.

The two brothers ditched their Mex outfits and dressed as ranch-hands looking for work. They shaved off all their facial hair and Mamacita gave them regular haircuts.

Juan and Miss Penny had a goodbye orgy that Felix and Mamacita listened to intently through the closed bedroom door. Mamacita relived part of her youth second-handedly, while Felix became eager to get to Buzzard Gulch brothels to relieve his own itch.

As the Durango boys started our for the Gulch, Shotgun Smith and Butch Faraday lit out for the ‘Mad Coyote’ mine. After two hours they reached Kabonga Buttes and had to leave the trail and go across country another seven miles.

When the Durangos got to town they cursed the luck that McQuick was being planted on the local boot hill. They cursed more when they found out that Butch and Shotgun were among the missing. It didn’t take long for them to find out in the Silver Dollar the direction our boys had been seen going as they left town.

Felix took time out for a quick visit to Clamydia Humphry, while Juan had a drink at the bar. They were only four hours behind the two expectant miners.

An exhausted Felix joined a drunken Juan a half hour later. Felix finished off the bottle, and the two inebriates somehow got onto their horses. It was one pm now. Singing a rowdy Mexican song, they pointed their mounts toward the trail to Kabonga Buttes, where Shotgun and Butch had been seen heading toward.

Meanwhile Shotgun and Butch were studying the map, and looking for other landmarks in order to locate the mine. They had got within a mile of the place by lining up three large boulders, and proceeding to the last one.

"Where’s them there goddam coyote-shaped rocks? I cain’t see nuthin’ here!" A scorpion scurried under a thorny bush as Shotgun’s foot came close to stepping on it.

"There’s a rock formation that looks like a howling coyote, by that there big three-pronged cactus," said Butch.

"Ya got a good imagination, pard, if’n ya think that!" exclaimed Shotgun. "The next one after that is a lil’ spring a’ water."

A mother coyote and two pups were heading towards the north-west. "Foller’ them suckers n’ we’ll find the water alright," suggested the old man.

Ten minutes later the spring came in sight. The two prospectors refilled their canteens, and let the horses and the mule drink. The coyote family was in hiding till the boys continued on their way. Shortly some derelict buildings set against the face of a small cliff came into view.

"I see the shacks now," whooped Butch. Let’s get settled in and have a coffee. Look there’s an out-house. I’m gonna get a load off’n mah mind first!”

While Butch ran for the latrine, Shotgun Smith led the horses to a patch of grass in the shade of the cliff. He took off the saddles and reins, and put them over a nearby fallen tree trunk. Leading the pack mule, he headed for the shack most likely to be a bunk-house, and opened the door.

"Oh, don’t shoot me, pleeeeese!" whimpered a voice from the far corner. A terrified figure crouched there with its hands raised in front of it as if to push Smith away.

"Who the hell’re you, hombre?" demanded Shotgun with Ol' Betsie raised for action.

"They calls me Weird Willie. Ah, bin’ livin’ here a spell," informed the cringing man.

"Well, Weird Willie, get the hell up ‘n stop the snifflin’,"said Shotgun. "Ah ain’t a gonna hurt’cha none."

The frail man wiped his nose on his sleeve, and slowly stood up, trembling. "I ain’t et in three days, mister. Do ya got any food?" he asked in a meek voice.

Shotgun found a half a beef jerky stick in his pocket and threw it to the hungry man, who attacked it ravenously.

"Thanks, mister, that was right nice ‘a ya!" said Willie after he had devoured the jerky.

Just then Butch came in feeling mighty refreshed. "Best dump ah ever had!" he announced. Then he saw Willie. "Who‘ve we got here, Smitty?" he asked.

"Butch Faraday, meet Weird Willie," said Smith. "He lives here."

"Pleased ta meetcha, Willie," said Butch holding out his hand. "Ya gonna have a coupla roomies fer a spell."

"Let’s git these here supplies off’n the mule and have a real meal, and some coffee," suggested Shotgun.

The three men unloaded Banjo, and Weird Willie kissed him on the nose. "Ah likes this here fellah!" he smiled. Smith let Willie lead Banjo to the grassy patch.

"F’cker’s weird, alright!" confessed Smitty to Butch, who agreed.

They sent Willie for a bucket of water from the spring, while they lit the pot bellied stove. Soon the heavenly aroma of brewing coffee assailed their nostrils. Bacon and eggs followed, with Willie wolfing down three helpings.

"Dam’ good food, pardners! Fer bein’ such nice fellas, ahm gonna share mah gold with yas!”

"Well, that's mighty nice 'a ya," smiled Shotgun, glancing at Butch. "Ah thought this here was a silver mine though!" he said as he looked at Willie.

"It is, but I mean the Mexican treasure chest gold," beamed Willie, showing his gapped ivories. "Wanna play cards fer a spell? Ain't had no company fer quite a while!" He produced a worn deck from a nearby shelf, and dumped a small sack of gold coins on the table. "Divvy that up three ways 'n we kin pretend ta gamble!" suggested the lonely misfit.

Butch refreshed the coffee cups while Smitty dumped the contents of the bag, and shared out the forty-two gold coins.

Smith picked up one of the coins. A picture of the Spanish King Ferdinand was on one side and Queen Isabella on the other. “These here are doubloons, Butch. There’s almost a quarter ounce a’ gold in each a’ these here things.”

“Purty, aint they,” said Willie, still grinning. “I got me a whole bunch a’ them there things, but the consarned, fancy box is too heavy fer me ta lift by mahself. Mebbe after we git done playin’ cards youse guys can help me ta move it from the cave.”

“Our pleasure, Willie,” chorused the delighted duo.

Meanwhile, twenty miles away, Felix and Juan has just passed Kabonga Buttes, and were resting their horses. There was grass, shade and water from a stream available.

The pair were relieving themselves behind some bushes, while nursing their aching heads.  Felix gave a surprised yelp, and began inspecting an unwelcome gift he had received from Clamydia Humphry. He cursed in Spanish.

“Ah, the senorita, she applauds your manliness, Felix … she gives you the big clap, no?” laughed Juan, who then groaned and held his noggin. “Oh, the laughter she hurts-a my poor head.”

Felix took a swing at his brother, but missed and fell down. The two decided to make camp and hope they felt better in the morning. They hobbled the horses, and rolled up in their blankets under a tree.

The next morning, Felix forgot to check his boots before he put them on, and a scorpion sleeping inside one of them awoke and stung his foot 48 times. He died minutes after he finally got his boot back off.

Juan was heartbroken and cried all the way to a rock pile where he took his morning pee. Unfortunately he had tears in his eyes as he peed on a rattlesnake, which bit him on his manly member. Too bad Felix was not around to suck out the poison. He died in agony within the hour.

After a while the mares, which had been unsaddled the previous night, chewed off their hobbles and found some water. Later they joined a wild band of mustangs.

Shotgun Smith and Butch Faraday never knew how lucky they had been.

*** THIS STORY UNFORTUNATELY TERMINATED HERE ***

I ran the starter to this a couple of times, but of course got different twists to the story. One, with Lord Badger alternating with me went on for a long time.

I steered it so another lonely guy came into it, and it went on from there.