RamPrompTime

Let's Play Cowboy (Prompt: Start)

"... WHO IS UP FOR THE CHALLENGE OF THE DAY?" the organiser, a rotund man with greying hair, clean shaven face and sporting an obscenely flashy coat over a drab dress shirt,  said into the megaphone. The megaphone faithfully relayed it, annotating  the message with its own characteristic high-frequency squeals. It seemed to have reached though, as an otherwise scattered crowd drowned in the cacophony of collective chattering fell silent instantly and gathered around the organiser who stood on the dais.

The women stood by the railing around  the podium, the men right behind them and the children doing everything to sneak past the men and women to the forefront. The organiser was pleased. I will make a killing, he ran his tongue over his parched lower lip that dangled halfway way down to the chin.

"Should I tell you what the contest is all about?" he said, and the crowd erupted with a ,"Yes!!!!!"

"Not loud enough!" he egged them on and the crowd responded. There must be a playbook for such things, as he said, "is that all?" and the crowd finally gave it their all.

"Awesome!" the man deftly switched the megaphone from one hand to another. "See the arena behind me? It's sealed. There are horses in there. Now," he said departing from the flow, "You! Gang of four," he called out to four young and well-built men who had come in a group. "What I need, is people in groups of four to step forward, step into the arena and catch as many horses as you can. In ten minutes. The ones with the highest number of horses wins! Let's play COWBOY."

Even as a section of the crowd  started trickling  away, the gang-of-four stepped up stealing a glance at the womenfolk as they made their way. "We are up for it."

"The wager is five dollars, non-refundable! Fine print! But you win one grand if you win!" the organiser read them the fine print and winked. "Oh!" the men groaned, but they had come too far to chicken out. This was a small town and backing out meant no pride, a perpetual quitter tag and that meant no women. Five dollars could be earned. A minute later as the remaining people watched, lasses including  of course - the men stepped into the arena. The door clicked shut behind them. They looked behind, at one another, adjusted their collars, turned around and then at each other again, this time out of disbelief. For all the drama and putting five dollars down, the men realised this was a lost cause. They stormed out, demanded a refund and when that didn't materialise, stood remonstrating with the rest.  There were no horses inside.

That's when Billy and his friends, all aged between ten and twelve stepped forward. "We'll give it a shot!" Billy said.

"You! But can you catch a horse? You see these men failed!"

"Billy, No," one of the older boys started to say when Billy put his hand up. "We'll do it. Here is our fiver."

Some fun at the expense of these innocent children, the organiser led them in happily, having pocketed another fiver.

Billy and his gang stepped in, heard the door shut, only to realise what made the men return so soon. "What do we do Billy?" Tom said. "We've been taken for a ride."

"Not yet!" Billy said. "Come here. Let's huddle!"

In some time, the people gathered outside heard cries of "catch that unruly horse", "here! horsey!" and the likes. In ten minutes, the children walked out tired and covered in mud, but immensely pleased.

"Hey!" Billy stepped up to the old man. "We caught four horses. No one else seems to care. Where is our one grand?"

"No way!" the squat old man said. "How did you manage to?"

"Well! We played odds and evens and picked one of us to be a horse. Five times in ten minutes. All of us got to be a horse at least once. And I never got caught. That's how!"

"That isn't fair! Children don't count as horses."

"It's just a game!" Billy said looking the old man in the eye, as those gathered around looked on. "And you never mentioned anything about the horses having to be real! Start counting the cash, will ya?"