Even though I will be away, dear crazy Muffinquesters, please rest east. The evenings at an academic conference leave much scope for rest, leisure and recreation for the teetotal and noise-sensitive delegate. Even now I anticipate many hours spent with a notepad and pen, doodling and scrawling new material for the Muffin which then noone will read except for bizarre smut networks and the James May Pro Boards. I'd like to thank that same James May page for make the 'Toy Stories: Flight Club' my most read article ever, getting SIX TIMES as many views as the next post in popularity. That was some horrifically accidental plug!
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Night Trials: Part XII
(Part XI)
In the days since being knocked out, waking up to find his own town taken over by hostile and slimy aliens, escaping, surveiling, travelling to the next town for help and finding still more aliens, Sheriff Bob had not for an instant really known what to do. He had been confused, non-plussed, and ultimately taking the only options he'd seen left to him at every juncture. Now, huddled in a house in Poon Hill, as building after building was collapsed around him he inwardly snapped. It wasn't his town, but he was the law, and blast it all it was his job to enforce that law or die trying.
Outside, the six aliens were shuffling slowly forward and looking nervously around. They almost jumped in fright when the door to Bob's refuge burst open and the Sheriff busted out in the sprint of his life. He took two of the aliens down in a low tackle, where they lay stunned on the ground as their floating discs hovered without direction. The other four were plainly in shock, so Bob punched another in the head and he promptly collapsed too. Three left now and they were slowly coming to terms with their situation, raising their weapons. Bob stole two guns from the fallen invaders and mentally dared the aliens to take him on, before shooting two of them and watching them fall stunned to the ground. The sixth alien fled and stunned faces watched from the windows of surrounding houses.
The battle wasn't over yet though, and even though a abhor gunplay it shall be recounted. Bob had been standing two houses up from the saloon, in the middle of the street. He realised he was a sitting target for a cowardly sniper, and that that was probably how the aliens did business. Then, two houses down from the saloon, a bizarre sight met his eye. An alien floated into the middle of the street, packing a six gun and a cowboy hat with a star. Evidently there was a twisted sense of humour in the alien psyche or someone had simply snapped like a twig under the pressure of life on an inhospitable and dry alien planet... In any case, they clearly wanted a showdown, and as a lawman he clearly he had only one option open to him. He shot the alien between the eyes before he'd even settled and then went over to disarm him. It gurgled a little and tried to get up so he kicked it and then rolled it toward Justice Hall.
Now Bob was in an extremely bad spot, with houses all around and who knew how many snipers watching. He was lucky though, as then the troops galloped into Poon Hill, and Bob was spared the horror of being horribly outnumbered by a host of alien invaders before being forced into some horribly clichéd showdown where he could only win in the most unlikely way possible. He'd had enough of those situation when he left Tombstone during the vampire infestation. Poor Clara, it had been a shame to slay her.
Turning to a nearby soldier, he asked about his own town. It was next. It was time to go home. The woman watched him from a window and started packing her bags and the child's.
The End, for now.
PS Yes, it was anti-climactic. I know. Extemporising is hard!
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