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The three members of the Bad Hand Gang faced off across the dusty square outside the saloon. They faced one man, Nick Ras-berry, the fastest fruit in the west.
Nick drew his weapon of choice. The banana. It had a range of 3 miles when ripe and 4 on a good day if green.
Bob stood back and put his hands in the air. “You got me pardner!” he said in the southern drawl known only to these parts.
Several rough unshaven cowboys whistled a tune as an electric guitar played in the background and a man with a thing that went twang...twanged..
Before Nick could take Bob in to the safety of the local jail, Bob span around and launched a barrage of Strawberries at Nick. The undertaker, Fred, marked another notch in his book, but as the Strawberries neared Nick’s body he dived under a bush and threw a Kiwi in retaliation.
The Kiwi exploded on impact with the ground, sending pips hurtling dangerously through the air and several chorus girls that were passing by doing the can-can had to shield their eyes.
Bob caught a few pips in the chest and went down quicker than a desperate man at madam Shackme’s house of loose women. The other members of the gang, Brian and Jimmy, looked about for any cover, but found only open space. They weren’t gonna go without a fight though, and both reached for their Oranges, the only weapons to call on in a situation like this.
Nick saw their movements and aimed the Banana, it only had two shots left. The oranges came through the air and as Nick fired his two shots they tumbled towards him with a terrifying whistle.
The sound of hoof beats made the two ruffians turn to see the sheriff roll up behind them. When they turned back, Nick was gone and the Orange explosion covered 5 metres across the range. They noticed a poor mule that had been caught in the attack, but no sign of Nick.
That was when they noticed they had both been shot in the chest and fell to the floor as the banana buckshot did its work.
The sheriff looked on in disbelief, he then looked up and across to the saloon to see Nick emerging from the entrance, shaking the orange peel from his hat.
“Close call that one, sheriff.” He said. “But these guys should have known not to mess with the fastest fruit in the west.”
The sheriff tipped his hat and smiled. “Yep, They sure made a mistake comin’ here.” And they both went inside for a beer.
Nick drew his weapon of choice. The banana. It had a range of 3 miles when ripe and 4 on a good day if green.
Bob stood back and put his hands in the air. “You got me pardner!” he said in the southern drawl known only to these parts.
Several rough unshaven cowboys whistled a tune as an electric guitar played in the background and a man with a thing that went twang...twanged..
Before Nick could take Bob in to the safety of the local jail, Bob span around and launched a barrage of Strawberries at Nick. The undertaker, Fred, marked another notch in his book, but as the Strawberries neared Nick’s body he dived under a bush and threw a Kiwi in retaliation.
The Kiwi exploded on impact with the ground, sending pips hurtling dangerously through the air and several chorus girls that were passing by doing the can-can had to shield their eyes.
Bob caught a few pips in the chest and went down quicker than a desperate man at madam Shackme’s house of loose women. The other members of the gang, Brian and Jimmy, looked about for any cover, but found only open space. They weren’t gonna go without a fight though, and both reached for their Oranges, the only weapons to call on in a situation like this.
Nick saw their movements and aimed the Banana, it only had two shots left. The oranges came through the air and as Nick fired his two shots they tumbled towards him with a terrifying whistle.
The sound of hoof beats made the two ruffians turn to see the sheriff roll up behind them. When they turned back, Nick was gone and the Orange explosion covered 5 metres across the range. They noticed a poor mule that had been caught in the attack, but no sign of Nick.
That was when they noticed they had both been shot in the chest and fell to the floor as the banana buckshot did its work.
The sheriff looked on in disbelief, he then looked up and across to the saloon to see Nick emerging from the entrance, shaking the orange peel from his hat.
“Close call that one, sheriff.” He said. “But these guys should have known not to mess with the fastest fruit in the west.”
The sheriff tipped his hat and smiled. “Yep, They sure made a mistake comin’ here.” And they both went inside for a beer.
Or the Banana Bunch. Who weren't real, and danced a bit.
And the Hair Bear Bunch.
Excellent, all the same Pb. :0D
And the Hair Bear Bunch.
Excellent, all the same Pb. :0D
:-)
What the others around me don't know is that today I come to work armed with a banana, and I'm sure as hell that I won't get to midday without using it.
What the others around me don't know is that today I come to work armed with a banana, and I'm sure as hell that I won't get to midday without using it.
RastaBillySkank wrote:
>is the Bad Hand Gang's name ripped off of the Black
> Hand Gang, the people who assasinated the arch-duke of Austro-Hungria?
Could be, or of course, the Red Hand Gang who.....rode bikes.
>is the Bad Hand Gang's name ripped off of the Black
> Hand Gang, the people who assasinated the arch-duke of Austro-Hungria?
Could be, or of course, the Red Hand Gang who.....rode bikes.
Excellent, Pb :-)
A question though, is the Bad Hand Gang's name ripped off of the Black Hand Gang, the people who assasinated the arch-duke of Austro-Hungria?
A question though, is the Bad Hand Gang's name ripped off of the Black Hand Gang, the people who assasinated the arch-duke of Austro-Hungria?
The three members of the Bad Hand Gang faced off across the dusty square outside the saloon. They faced one man, Nick Ras-berry, the fastest fruit in the west.
Nick drew his weapon of choice. The banana. It had a range of 3 miles when ripe and 4 on a good day if green.
Bob stood back and put his hands in the air. “You got me pardner!” he said in the southern drawl known only to these parts.
Several rough unshaven cowboys whistled a tune as an electric guitar played in the background and a man with a thing that went twang...twanged..
Before Nick could take Bob in to the safety of the local jail, Bob span around and launched a barrage of Strawberries at Nick. The undertaker, Fred, marked another notch in his book, but as the Strawberries neared Nick’s body he dived under a bush and threw a Kiwi in retaliation.
The Kiwi exploded on impact with the ground, sending pips hurtling dangerously through the air and several chorus girls that were passing by doing the can-can had to shield their eyes.
Bob caught a few pips in the chest and went down quicker than a desperate man at madam Shackme’s house of loose women. The other members of the gang, Brian and Jimmy, looked about for any cover, but found only open space. They weren’t gonna go without a fight though, and both reached for their Oranges, the only weapons to call on in a situation like this.
Nick saw their movements and aimed the Banana, it only had two shots left. The oranges came through the air and as Nick fired his two shots they tumbled towards him with a terrifying whistle.
The sound of hoof beats made the two ruffians turn to see the sheriff roll up behind them. When they turned back, Nick was gone and the Orange explosion covered 5 metres across the range. They noticed a poor mule that had been caught in the attack, but no sign of Nick.
That was when they noticed they had both been shot in the chest and fell to the floor as the banana buckshot did its work.
The sheriff looked on in disbelief, he then looked up and across to the saloon to see Nick emerging from the entrance, shaking the orange peel from his hat.
“Close call that one, sheriff.” He said. “But these guys should have known not to mess with the fastest fruit in the west.”
The sheriff tipped his hat and smiled. “Yep, They sure made a mistake comin’ here.” And they both went inside for a beer.
Nick drew his weapon of choice. The banana. It had a range of 3 miles when ripe and 4 on a good day if green.
Bob stood back and put his hands in the air. “You got me pardner!” he said in the southern drawl known only to these parts.
Several rough unshaven cowboys whistled a tune as an electric guitar played in the background and a man with a thing that went twang...twanged..
Before Nick could take Bob in to the safety of the local jail, Bob span around and launched a barrage of Strawberries at Nick. The undertaker, Fred, marked another notch in his book, but as the Strawberries neared Nick’s body he dived under a bush and threw a Kiwi in retaliation.
The Kiwi exploded on impact with the ground, sending pips hurtling dangerously through the air and several chorus girls that were passing by doing the can-can had to shield their eyes.
Bob caught a few pips in the chest and went down quicker than a desperate man at madam Shackme’s house of loose women. The other members of the gang, Brian and Jimmy, looked about for any cover, but found only open space. They weren’t gonna go without a fight though, and both reached for their Oranges, the only weapons to call on in a situation like this.
Nick saw their movements and aimed the Banana, it only had two shots left. The oranges came through the air and as Nick fired his two shots they tumbled towards him with a terrifying whistle.
The sound of hoof beats made the two ruffians turn to see the sheriff roll up behind them. When they turned back, Nick was gone and the Orange explosion covered 5 metres across the range. They noticed a poor mule that had been caught in the attack, but no sign of Nick.
That was when they noticed they had both been shot in the chest and fell to the floor as the banana buckshot did its work.
The sheriff looked on in disbelief, he then looked up and across to the saloon to see Nick emerging from the entrance, shaking the orange peel from his hat.
“Close call that one, sheriff.” He said. “But these guys should have known not to mess with the fastest fruit in the west.”
The sheriff tipped his hat and smiled. “Yep, They sure made a mistake comin’ here.” And they both went inside for a beer.