>>5352165“Anywho,” The old man concludes with a shrug, “I reckon you’ll figure it out… all the cards’ll be on the table tomorrow whether we like it ‘r not.”
See, there he goes <span class="mu-i">again</span> being all grim and foreboding, you frown, planting your hands on your hips impatiently! What’s his deal, anyways?
“What’cha mean by that, missy?” He retorts defensively!
What’cha mean, you reply, is that he’s acting funny! He gives you his <span class="mu-g">SICK-ASS GUN,</span> gives you, like, <span class="mu-i">two</span> hugs, and he keeps talking about tomorrow like it’s gonna beat him over the head with a sack of doorknobs!
The Marshal raises a grey eyebrow your way. “... and?”
Well, you sputter with growing confusion, why!? He wasn’t concerned when you stormed that mine together–what’s so different about this next fight? What’s got you glum, chum?
Gramps opens his mouth to insult you again, but pauses when a somber expression darkens his face.
“This…” He begins, as if he was about to explain why a goldfish died to a toddler, “This fight will be different, Stan. Much different.”
But <span class="mu-i">how</span>, you persist! <span class="mu-i">How</span> is it different? You’re still fighting skelet-
“You’re not fighting ‘<span class="mu-i">skeletons</span>’, damn it!” He roars, nearly lunging out of his chair, “You’re fighting something that can take a man’s life just by <span class="mu-i">staring</span> at him! That can raise the dead as easy as you or I put a <span class="mu-i">hat</span> on!” Something in your eyes causes the old man to cool down a bit, and with an apologetic sigh, he slowly, but wearily collapses back into his chair.
“Just… he ain’t no <span class="mu-i">bandit</span>, kid… and you’d have to be a damned fool to treat him like one.”
Watching the crotchety old skeleton drum his chair’s armrests with shaky fingers, the final piece of the puzzle falls into place in your mind.
You’re… you’re <span class="mu-i">scared</span>, aren’t you?
“I am.” The Marshal nods in a hushed tone. “Not of death, mind, already been through it before.”
Yea, you mutter, you came close too…
“No, I don’t fear going back there–especially knowing my wife an’ boy lived on.” He continues, “But knowing that there are things out there… things that can snatch a man’s soul and make it dance on strings…” The skeleton stares into your eyes. “There ain’t nothin’ more wrong in this world than that.”
Taking a steadying breath, The weary lawman continues to bore holes in your face with his glowing red eyes. “So whatever happens tomorrow, Stanley Parble, you put that sick sonnovabitch in the <span class="mu-i">ground</span>, you hear? And you salt the land where you buried him.”
Oh you <span class="mu-i">will</span>, you nod, you <span class="mu-i">will</span>!
“And you take damn good care of yourself an’ yer own,” He concludes, not taking his eyes off you, “Don’t underestimate him.”
>CONTD. 