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“…And what’s your name again, old man? Was that Haughty ol’ Harvey I heard?” Summers asked, hardly stopping her giggle.
“His name sounds like a retired clown,” Tyler butted in and peacefully sipped his coffee.
“How dare you make ol’ Harvey an object of laughter!” the outlaw blurted. This time he was steaming with anger, like a hideous beast roaring from burning hell. He slammed his pumpkin-sized fists to the table until his hat fell to the ground, finally revealing his notorious face. All heads in the bar turned to them, whispering on each other in curiosity.
“Aaw, you just hurt poor Harvey's feelings, Tyler. Tell him your sincerest apology,” Summers continued, saving her beer that almost fell with the damaged table.
“Holy cow! It is Haughty ol’ Harvey!” a customer yelled, recognizing the giant’s fierce face. Everyone gasped in freight. They learned that the saloon was now surrounded with danger.
“Run for your lives!” a coward alerted and hopped from his seat to escape. But before he was able to reach the heavenly exit, the furious criminal pulled a gun from his holster and shot the poor cowboy.
“Nobody runs away from meeh!” the outlaw yelled. Still unsatisfied, he fired his weapon to a moose trophy which adhered to the wall above the exit, trapping all the people inside the bar. This even made the people panic more. And as a result, the nasty offender felt more excited. He took off his poncho that covered his entire appearance and with a roaring voice he declared, “THIS MEANS WAR!!!”
The gangsters swiftly leaped from their seats as they pulled out their pistols and began to shoot Summers and Tyler. The two quickly parted ways, rolling themselves onto the ground and into the covered tables of other customers. And within that stirring moment there was absolute chaos—people screamed and hid themselves under the tables while the goons continued firing their guns everywhere. Some of the cowboys even involved themselves in the shootout for their own excitement. There were violent sounds of breaking glasses and windows which even created a more horrifying noise than the people’s hysteria. And still discontented, the troublesome group kept their weapons alive, shooting the accused who underestimated their boss.
“Aaarrggghhh!”
A loud cry was heard. The gangsters thought that they had finally caught one of those brats, but to their surprise the voice came from their own ally, Stanley.
“Boss, Stanley’s shot on the leg!” the fat member warned Harvey, but their merciless leader didn’t pay attention to it.
“Mind him later—get the woman and the brat!”
“Not so fast, varmint!” a young voice was heard.
It was the kid who rolled over the floor just behind ol’ Harvey. The teenager abruptly swept the felon’s foot to trip him up, but because Harvey was heavyweight, slipping him was impossible. Instead, the malefactor himself immediately caught Tyler and seized the boy’s neck using his powerful hand. The youngster was now unable to free himself.
“Go on, shoot meeh darlin’! This lad is begging fer yer help!”
The blue-haired then noticed that the two other felons were now aiming their guns at her too—she was now cornered. Shrewd gnashed her teeth. What must she do now?
“Put your hands behind your head, Harvey! You got 20 seconds to step out of the bar!” a familiar accent was soon heard from the outside.
“Boss, i-it’s the sheriff!” Larry alerted his leader. The people in the saloon slowly came into silence—and some of them cried for joy, whispering to themselves “We’re saved!” for their rescuers had finally arrived. The hoodlums now showed a feeling of despair. Nevertheless, this hadn’t petrified one man yet.
“Don’t just give me those faces, you dimwits! Show them what we’re made of!”
Harvey then stood in front of the swaying doors. He kicked away the trophy that obstructed the exit and carefully picked his gun from his holster. Still seizing Tyler, the outlaw walked outside the bar with pride.
“He got himself a hostage, sir!” one of the deputies told the sheriff.
“Just keep your guns aimed at him. We don’t know his plans,”
The officer stood up and walked slowly towards the bar’s façade. He paused in front of the scofflaw.
“Boss, i-it’s the sheriff!” Larry alerted his leader. The people in the saloon slowly came into silence—and some of them cried for joy, whispering to themselves “We’re saved!” for their rescuers had finally arrived. The hoodlums now showed a feeling of despair. Nevertheless, this hadn’t petrified one man yet.
“Don’t just give me those faces, you dimwits! Show them what we’re made of!”
Harvey then stood in front of the swaying doors. He kicked away the trophy that obstructed the exit and carefully picked his gun from his holster. Still seizing Tyler, the outlaw walked outside the bar with pride.
“He got himself a hostage, sir!” one of the deputies told the sheriff.
“Just keep your guns aimed at him. We don’t know his plans,”
The officer stood up and walked slowly towards the bar’s façade. He paused in front of the scofflaw.
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