Cowbob and the Teeter-Totter Gang

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The wooden saloon doors swayed freely as he entered the tavern. The villainous teeter-tater gang sat to his left, dealing out the cards in a menacing manner. He noticed Miss Kit Kat dancing on stage in her best Sunday dress. The bars keep, kept passing out root beers, knowing all too well that Marcus had his quota. He could smell the foul burps escaping from within the poor guy. It wasn’t long before he saw the scoundrel escorted out of the establishment. The wooden floor creaked as he took long strides to the counter. His long leather duster hung well past the legs of the barstool as he sat down, parched and ready for some fizz. The black handle of his six shooters glinted in the florescent of the overheads, showing his intent on throwing down some rubber.

John the bar-keep has seen him around the dust bowl a time or two and knew that trouble was a-brewin. In his profession, where people would kill for a root beer, he knew when to lay low. He stared at the man and filled up his mug. The foam overtook the rim as he poured an extra-large fizz from the tap. As he slid it down the bar, one hand stopped it dead in its tracks. John leaned forward and whispered in the man’s ear.

“Now listen CowBob, I don’t want any trouble in these parts. Just take what you’ve come for and leave my place in one piece.”

Cowbob pulled the sucker from his mouth and placed it gently back into it’s wrapper. Tipping his hat to the good man, he took a swig of fizz and spoke.

“I reckon I didn’t come looking for trouble, but sometimes trouble comes anyways! I am looking for the ones that call themselves the Teeter-Totter gang. I intend on collecting the bounty and leaving this dustbowl for good.”

“Now just a minute Cowbob, You don’t want to tangle with them. They are the meanest hombre’s this side of the candy store.”

“Be that as it is, They are worth a week’s rations of milkshakes and I intend on collecting.”

John hunkered below the bar and waited for the battle to begin. He prayed he would have a business left by the time Cowbob was done, but would rather lose his tavern than an eye to a rogue rubber-band.

On stage, Kit-Kat was dancing gracefully to “She’ll be coming around the mountain” kicking her long legs in time with the music.  Many gentlemen were enjoying a laugh at the expense of the others who fell victim to the devious abilities of the Teeter-tater gang. Everyone in the dustbowl knew not to play cards with them. They never lose. This was part luck and part mean streak. You see, the leader of the gang, Jack the rubber bandit, would lay down rubber on any man who beat them. They were all doomed.

More heinous laughter erupted as more cards were handed over. Cowbob could hear the threatening way they played and see the tip of their guns as they spoke.

“Does anyone have any eights?” Jack asked

“No sir...go fish”

Sweat poured from his brow as the light gleamed off of the rifle.

“No eights? Then give me what you got. How about fives? Maybe threes? Just give them all to me.” Jack laughed raucously.

The man stood, leaving behind two weeks’ worth of suckers. Regret radiated from the man’s eyes as he remembered the long hours spent cleaning up rooms at the sister inn. Why would they strip a man of two weeks wages? What kind of a monster would do that?

Cowbob slowly walked to the middle of the room, making mental notes on how many gunslingers there were. He knew he was out-gunned.

“I’m looking for the yeller bellied scoundrels that call themselves the Teeter-Tater gang.”