.:~Sizzling Honey~ A Barry.B.Benson Tale (Western):.

.:=~Sizzling Honey-The New Arrival~=:.

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

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It was a warm midsummers day, the sound of clinking beer tankards and the echoing chatters and laughs of distant conversations erupted from the bustling saloon. The scent of sweat and old leather boots sizzled in the baking heat of Texas. A small figure, face concealed by the large brim of his maroon cowboy hat, stood on a bank of golden sand, staring off into the glowing sun as it slowly revealed itself over the horizon. 

"'Ave you heard 'bout that shoot-out a few towns over?" Inside the saloon, an appraising voice grinned over to its companion, "practically blew the brains outta young Malfoy. Poor guy was a goner b'fore 'is head hit ta ground. Just starting his apple business, a shame, a shame."
The companion gazed out of the grimy windows, streaked with dust and humid horse breath, he paused a while, to listen to the other voices, you could practically sense the anger billowing out of him like hot steam forcing itself out of a geyser. 

"Who- Who was this man, the fool who murdered the young lad." The companion asked, barely keeping himself together. He rubbed his brow, shifting his dark, greasy hair aside. On his forehead, a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt came forth.
"'E was a yokel, always travelling from town to town. Masked himself, never revealed his face. Don't bothered me that much, that he killed the boy, I must say, never liked the young lad, always storming off to his father after he lost a round of o' Faro."

The companion lowered his wire-rimmed, round glasses, revealing agitated green eyes, "You will not speak of the dead with such disrespect." His words were muffled by the ever-growing chatter of the saloon, the putrid scent of spilled alcohol, the sight of rigged card games. It was still audible, perhaps it would have been better if it were not.

"What's it to you, 'e was jus' a namby-pamby city-slacker. Nothin' like you an' me townsfolk." The first man, who went by the name of Shrek, carelessly threw his words into the ring.
"My dear friend, that man you speak of with such malice, was my fiancé."

Shrek's eyes widened as he realized his mistake. That was when all hell went loose...

Harry immediately leapt out his rotting, wooden seat and threw himself onto Shrek like a wild, mangey dog about to tear a fox to shreds. The green cowboy fell to the floor with a booming thud, that drew attention from everyone in the room. His adversary pinned him to the ground and continuously battered his face with his firm knuckles. "Enough!" Shrek hollered whilst crimson blood patterned his cracked lips. Harry, however, continued to pummel his already worn face. Shrek spat out a mixture of his saliva and blood alongside a single dislodged tooth. 

"I SAID ENOUGH!" Shrek instinctively grabbed hold of Harry's arm and proceeded to contort it until the sound of cracking and tearing was eventually replaced by the screams of the young man as he realised. He now only has one arm. A puddle of thick, congealed liquid started to disperse along the moulded floorboards. The fingers on the now severed arm twitched to a still. 

The crowd of onlookers turned silent...pained cries from the now armless Potter. What must of only been five seconds passed...The crowd began to shout, already picking their sides. Those who placed bets collected their cash, some hurriedly downed their tankards and promptly departed whilst some overseers remained. Several of the softer folk rushed to Harry's side.

"Shrek! Ya ugly enough to back a buzz'rd o' a gut-wagon!" a voice, its owner unclear in the sea of bodies, cried out.

Then came a tidal wave of fists meeting flesh and slanderous talk of the maternal variety. 

"Can y'all calm down?" Megamind, the blue-skinned bartender attempted to hush the ongoing brawl. Unfortunately, his plea fell on death ears. Just as Megamind sank to his knees in defeat, the thunderous bang of slamming doors resounded. 

In the entranceway, silhouetted by a halo of blistering sunlight, stood a small yet intimidating figure with his face concealed by a maroon hat.

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A/N: This was written by my friend and I. We are avid fans of westerns and decided Barry would be the perfect candidate for our story. We are planning to continue this tragic tale of loss and woe but also steamy romance! Please come back for chapter two! :3 

-Cody and Ava-