Dipshits in Space: Season 10

113. Triple Gun Bebop Part 1: The man with the cheating gun

Lawg took a sip of his whiskey, as the skanky swank of a harmonica pierced the silence like a sharp, jazzy lance, in A major.

"Major Lance Jazzman." he replied, smirking to the woman looking confused.

"I didn't ask for your name, I asked who you think you are. That's my seat, pilgrim." Said a blonde lady in light blue. She had cleavage for days, legs for at least a week, and enough ass to make any mans legs weak as well.

"I didn't see your name on it." He smoldered, just like his cigarette.

"Who writes their name on a seat? That's just tacky. I'm not getting ink on my ass. The impressive part is that I don't have to, because everyone knows not to mess with me, and they know that seat is mine." she said playfully.

"Makes it hard for drifters to know where sit, doesn't it? How about I buy you a drink and you let me warm this seat for you." Lawg squinted as a 7 foot shadow in the back snorted softly in a scoff, blue eyes illuminating slightly.

"So you just a drifter, some lonely Cowboy fixin to be boping around town, or you got a purpose behind that spring in your step?"

"I got a purpose, lady. Just doesn't concern you." Lawg whispered like the lanky protagonist he was.

"You alone?" she asked, placing her hand in her pocket, maybe for a weapon.

"I got my comrades. Nothing special among us. just a couple of bounty hunters, looking for bounties to hunt. Just me, the lanky legend, my butch tank with the robot parts, an annoying kid who may be smarter then we realize, and the purple haired naggy bitch...and a dog we found yesterday. Just us 5."

"I ate the dog already." the shadow reminded.

"Just us 4." sighed Lawg in disappointment as Gizzy picked her teeth.

"Your woman seems mad at you." said the blonde bombshell.

"Nope...not his woman." Gizzy yawned. "The mad part is right, and fairly consistent. Sometimes you gotta keep these cowpokes in line." she added, dimming her eyes as she smoked her pipe. The doors creaked, Uka walked by in poorly fitting clothing, tugging lightly and brushing her violet colored hair out of her face.

"So the naggy violet is your woman?" mystery blonde asked Lawg.

"No I am not." said Uka, still pissed at her hair dye malfunction and the lack of it being black. "Nobody's his woman. This loser rides alone." she sighed. "Anyone got a soda or something?" she yelled.

"Single and ready to jingle, spurs all polished and everything." Lawg said re-lighting a cigarette and taking a light puff, coughing and nearly swallowing the cigarette as he wheezed and chased it with his drink. Uka chuckled.

"I swear, you're a walking disappointment. We go ten miles from the ship and you make an ass out of yourself." Uka shook.

"Uka...We're doing cowboy talk. You gotta be all blazing stirrups and yehaw." Lawg wheezed.

"Why?" Uka protested. "It's dumb. This isn't the wild west, it's just regular space travel and making money as usual, just on some dusty-ass moons and crap, because it's way out in the badlands."

"It's how they talk, Uka...we're blending." Lawg whispered. "Yes, blended, thank you." he waved to the bartender as the blender finished smoothing his margarita.