The "General Games Chat" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
"There's not enough room in this forum for the two of us." FM slammed his emptied whisky glass down on the wooden counter. "Step outside, Grix......"
Grix eyed FM carefully. They'd known each other for a long time, but things had been gettin' a little strained lately."
"What's this about, FM," he demanded, making his way through the packed but hushed saloon and pushing the swinging doors outwards as he stepped onto the dusty ground outside.
"Well," replied FM, pushing open the doors again and following Grix outside into the hot, dry air, "You've bushwhacked one of my topics just one time too many. It's time we had this out. Mano a Mano. Poster to Poster."
Grix paused in his stride to think of a witty retort about FM's last comment, then decided that now was probably not the time.
"So, what's it to be? 10 paces, turn and fire?" asked Grix, making sure his gunbelt was fastened properly.
"You know me better than that, Grix. 30 paces." FM checked his gunbelt. The Smith and Wesson 6-shot revolver hung loosely at his right hip.
They stood back to back under the glare of the midday sun, and started to count.....
1....2....3....
The occupants of the saloon were packing the windows trying to get a glimpse of the showdown outside. This was unheard of. The last shootout in the town of Last Chance Reserve had been quite a time ago, when the Er-no posse had cleaned out the Desperate Dans, but this was different. Two equally matched opponents were about to face off.
Insane Bartender was going even more nuts behind the saloon's counter because he was losing good sales whilst all this was going on.
Outside, the count was at 25.... as FM glanced to his right and saw PB on the roof of the Red Splat Hotel and Boarding House, shotgun at hand. PB nodded with a knowing look. FM nodded back.
The count was 26.... as Grix looked across to the SR Saddlery, where he spied Sniper with his trusty Winchester Rifle. Grix gave a brief nod. Sniper returned it.
27....28...29..
Dust whirled up as both men spun to face each other. The blast of PB's shotgun firing both barrels broke the deafening silence that preceeded it, and a cloud of sand flew up at Grix's feet as the buckshot ploughed into the ground.
Grix drew his gun and took aim, FM was still drawing his because he was left handed and his belt was on the wrong way, Sniper fired his rifle, and there was a sharp report, then a clatter as PB dropped his shotgun and swandived off the roof of the hotel and landed in a horse trough.
FM grappled with his pistol, it had snagged in the holster, and he reminded himself to be more careful where he left his chewing gum.
Grix took pity. (No he didn't). Grix fired his gun. Fortunately, FM and done his research and Grix's eyesight wasn't as good as it should have been, and at 30 paces it was like trying to read a Wanted Poster through a mirage. Grix's first bullet flew out of town faster than a newbie Gameaday winner. He wasn't sure if he had hit FM or not, but then he heard FM pull back the hammer of his Smith and Wesson with a
*click*
Grix eyed FM carefully. They'd known each other for a long time, but things had been gettin' a little strained lately."
"What's this about, FM," he demanded, making his way through the packed but hushed saloon and pushing the swinging doors outwards as he stepped onto the dusty ground outside.
"Well," replied FM, pushing open the doors again and following Grix outside into the hot, dry air, "You've bushwhacked one of my topics just one time too many. It's time we had this out. Mano a Mano. Poster to Poster."
Grix paused in his stride to think of a witty retort about FM's last comment, then decided that now was probably not the time.
"So, what's it to be? 10 paces, turn and fire?" asked Grix, making sure his gunbelt was fastened properly.
"You know me better than that, Grix. 30 paces." FM checked his gunbelt. The Smith and Wesson 6-shot revolver hung loosely at his right hip.
They stood back to back under the glare of the midday sun, and started to count.....
1....2....3....
The occupants of the saloon were packing the windows trying to get a glimpse of the showdown outside. This was unheard of. The last shootout in the town of Last Chance Reserve had been quite a time ago, when the Er-no posse had cleaned out the Desperate Dans, but this was different. Two equally matched opponents were about to face off.
Insane Bartender was going even more nuts behind the saloon's counter because he was losing good sales whilst all this was going on.
Outside, the count was at 25.... as FM glanced to his right and saw PB on the roof of the Red Splat Hotel and Boarding House, shotgun at hand. PB nodded with a knowing look. FM nodded back.
The count was 26.... as Grix looked across to the SR Saddlery, where he spied Sniper with his trusty Winchester Rifle. Grix gave a brief nod. Sniper returned it.
27....28...29..
Dust whirled up as both men spun to face each other. The blast of PB's shotgun firing both barrels broke the deafening silence that preceeded it, and a cloud of sand flew up at Grix's feet as the buckshot ploughed into the ground.
Grix drew his gun and took aim, FM was still drawing his because he was left handed and his belt was on the wrong way, Sniper fired his rifle, and there was a sharp report, then a clatter as PB dropped his shotgun and swandived off the roof of the hotel and landed in a horse trough.
FM grappled with his pistol, it had snagged in the holster, and he reminded himself to be more careful where he left his chewing gum.
Grix took pity. (No he didn't). Grix fired his gun. Fortunately, FM and done his research and Grix's eyesight wasn't as good as it should have been, and at 30 paces it was like trying to read a Wanted Poster through a mirage. Grix's first bullet flew out of town faster than a newbie Gameaday winner. He wasn't sure if he had hit FM or not, but then he heard FM pull back the hammer of his Smith and Wesson with a
*click*
Page:
....sneer. "How can you and your colony possibly help, we need a fast getaway, and we already got our hover hosses."
Ant considered this. "But hover hosses need feeding, we live off the sugar we find on the ground. Hover hosses can shy in fright, we don't, we are....the Colony."
"He speaks sense, kimmusabe," said FM, slipping into Tonto mode.
"Hmm, said Grix, we'll give 'em a trial then."
Ant considered this. "But hover hosses need feeding, we live off the sugar we find on the ground. Hover hosses can shy in fright, we don't, we are....the Colony."
"He speaks sense, kimmusabe," said FM, slipping into Tonto mode.
"Hmm, said Grix, we'll give 'em a trial then."
As FM and Grix got ready to rob the bank, Ant returned, completely healed.
Ant pulled out a pipe, smoked it, tilted his hat in a cool way, pulled out a pistol and swung it around in a cool way.
Then he coughed on the smoke of his the pipe, his hat fell off, and the pistol ended being pointed towards him.
"Err......anyway... I've come to help you. My colony's medicine healed me, and....would you let me help you?? My colony could be your getaway vehicle??"
And Grix replied with a....
Ant pulled out a pipe, smoked it, tilted his hat in a cool way, pulled out a pistol and swung it around in a cool way.
Then he coughed on the smoke of his the pipe, his hat fell off, and the pistol ended being pointed towards him.
"Err......anyway... I've come to help you. My colony's medicine healed me, and....would you let me help you?? My colony could be your getaway vehicle??"
And Grix replied with a....
Oops. "Post before you look syndrome"
Mine probably fits just befor FM's.
Mine probably fits just befor FM's.
Being able to think of nothing better to do, the group decided to play poker whilst they waited for their drinks.
Ant shuffled the pack. He'd become rather dexterity with a pack of cards in his hand was quite something. He dealt out the cards as the others fumbled for their loose change. Presently, the bartender arrived with their drinks.
"Here ya go, four cokes with lemon and ice." he said
"Put it on the slate" Grix replied without moving his head. He was staring at the others now, for that slight expression which would cause them to unwittingly convey to him the strength of their hand.
Sniper took a large swig of coke, and slammed the glass back down on the table.
"HRRGGGH"
Sniper looked like he was choking. Grix looked at sniper's glass. No lemon. As he suspected, Sniper was choking on his lemon.
Sniper's face was by now quite red, and ge had gotten up out of his chair and was flailing his arms around. The group watched him for a while. Until he dropped to the floor, dead.
"Don't worry about him." pb said "He'll be okay in a few miniutes"
The group turned back to their game, when suddenly the saloon doors opened with a
*click*
Ant shuffled the pack. He'd become rather dexterity with a pack of cards in his hand was quite something. He dealt out the cards as the others fumbled for their loose change. Presently, the bartender arrived with their drinks.
"Here ya go, four cokes with lemon and ice." he said
"Put it on the slate" Grix replied without moving his head. He was staring at the others now, for that slight expression which would cause them to unwittingly convey to him the strength of their hand.
Sniper took a large swig of coke, and slammed the glass back down on the table.
"HRRGGGH"
Sniper looked like he was choking. Grix looked at sniper's glass. No lemon. As he suspected, Sniper was choking on his lemon.
Sniper's face was by now quite red, and ge had gotten up out of his chair and was flailing his arms around. The group watched him for a while. Until he dropped to the floor, dead.
"Don't worry about him." pb said "He'll be okay in a few miniutes"
The group turned back to their game, when suddenly the saloon doors opened with a
*click*
Suddenly, without warning, and quite unexpectedly, FantasyMeister stumbled in through the swinging doors and staggered over to the counter.
"Coke please...."
Bob the Bartender handed him a glass of coke. FM gulped it down and allowed his eyes to wander the room. When they'd finished doing that, he looked over to the nearest table.
Grix was there. FM felt his blood boil. He thought the guy was dead. He walked over.
"So, Grix, not dead yet then?"
Grix regarded FM from his seat, wondering what was going to happen next. Nothing much, so he decided to reply.
"Howdy, FM, sit yerself down and have a game of cards."
FM considered this, he'd done enough shooting for a while and was gettin' low on bullets. He decided to play.
"What's the game, then?"
"SR Poker," said Grix, pulling out a 52-deck from his pocket, "Deuces low, Aces high, blackJacks wild, 5 card draw, ante 3, no blinds, no bluff, deal passes to the left, no pot limit, limited raise, threes are fours, diamonds are trumps, north plays left handed, west is evens, and dealer holds the pot."
"Sounds simple enough to me....." FM took a seat, and sat down. Grix started to deal, the cards seeming to blur in the air and land with precision, obviously he was a skilled cardsharp. FM was feeling a little out of his depth already.
He looked at his 5 cards, 3 kings and 2 aces.
Grix looked at his, 3 aces and 2 kings.
After a round of furious betting, they were ready to show cards. FM turned his over, Grix did the same.
"Ha!! Full house Aces over Kings!!!"
"Hold it there just one minute, pardner!" said FM though gritted teeth (he had a specialist Dentist in Wyoming), "I think you've been CHEATING!!!"
"Huh!"
"Well looky here at them thar cards, 5 kings and 5 aces? You were trying to CHEAT!!!"
Grix looked and counted. He'd miscalulated FM's intelligence when using his 'special' deck. But he couldn't back down. With a swift movement, he stood up and kicked back his chair, as FM did the same, and they both drew and dived to the left at the same time, and fired.
Sniper, who had been sitting inbetween them at the time, got both bullets. He slumped forwards and his head hit the table with a crash.
Bob reached down behind his counter and brought out his trusty sawnoff as the bullets zinged and pinged about the bar.
"Now then! Now then! What's all this we'll have no trouble here!!" he yelled levelling the shotgun at Grix and FM, who were currently running about the room firing at each other.
Grix and FM glanced at each other, then both aimed their pistols at Bob and shot him dead.
The room went quiet, apart from the dripping of blood from Sniper's wounds.
"Hmm," said FM. Good teamwork there, pardner?"
"Yeah, 'spose so, pardner...."
"Wanna rob a bank?"
"Why not, pays better than cards anyways."
And that was how the SR Gang was formed. This pair of bandits became notorious in the Wild West of the 1860s, and their first target was Tony's Bank in Tucson.
More of this in the next thrilling installment of:
Butch FM and the Sundance Grix.
"Coke please...."
Bob the Bartender handed him a glass of coke. FM gulped it down and allowed his eyes to wander the room. When they'd finished doing that, he looked over to the nearest table.
Grix was there. FM felt his blood boil. He thought the guy was dead. He walked over.
"So, Grix, not dead yet then?"
Grix regarded FM from his seat, wondering what was going to happen next. Nothing much, so he decided to reply.
"Howdy, FM, sit yerself down and have a game of cards."
FM considered this, he'd done enough shooting for a while and was gettin' low on bullets. He decided to play.
"What's the game, then?"
"SR Poker," said Grix, pulling out a 52-deck from his pocket, "Deuces low, Aces high, blackJacks wild, 5 card draw, ante 3, no blinds, no bluff, deal passes to the left, no pot limit, limited raise, threes are fours, diamonds are trumps, north plays left handed, west is evens, and dealer holds the pot."
"Sounds simple enough to me....." FM took a seat, and sat down. Grix started to deal, the cards seeming to blur in the air and land with precision, obviously he was a skilled cardsharp. FM was feeling a little out of his depth already.
He looked at his 5 cards, 3 kings and 2 aces.
Grix looked at his, 3 aces and 2 kings.
After a round of furious betting, they were ready to show cards. FM turned his over, Grix did the same.
"Ha!! Full house Aces over Kings!!!"
"Hold it there just one minute, pardner!" said FM though gritted teeth (he had a specialist Dentist in Wyoming), "I think you've been CHEATING!!!"
"Huh!"
"Well looky here at them thar cards, 5 kings and 5 aces? You were trying to CHEAT!!!"
Grix looked and counted. He'd miscalulated FM's intelligence when using his 'special' deck. But he couldn't back down. With a swift movement, he stood up and kicked back his chair, as FM did the same, and they both drew and dived to the left at the same time, and fired.
Sniper, who had been sitting inbetween them at the time, got both bullets. He slumped forwards and his head hit the table with a crash.
Bob reached down behind his counter and brought out his trusty sawnoff as the bullets zinged and pinged about the bar.
"Now then! Now then! What's all this we'll have no trouble here!!" he yelled levelling the shotgun at Grix and FM, who were currently running about the room firing at each other.
Grix and FM glanced at each other, then both aimed their pistols at Bob and shot him dead.
The room went quiet, apart from the dripping of blood from Sniper's wounds.
"Hmm," said FM. Good teamwork there, pardner?"
"Yeah, 'spose so, pardner...."
"Wanna rob a bank?"
"Why not, pays better than cards anyways."
And that was how the SR Gang was formed. This pair of bandits became notorious in the Wild West of the 1860s, and their first target was Tony's Bank in Tucson.
More of this in the next thrilling installment of:
Butch FM and the Sundance Grix.
I still don't see me in any of the recent skits :P
Is it just me, or is everyone completly confused?
I'm going to carry on from where pb left off.
Er-no checked for bodies... every damn one of them was alive.
The man with no name... who everybody liked to call "Bob", or sometimes "Jim", stood behind the bar... Grix, Sniper, pb, and Ant walked back in, and all sat around a table.
Bob walked over... "Drinks?"
"When did you take over the bar?"
"When that *crrraaazzzy* bartender ran off... as I said, Drinks?"
"Four cokes please."
"Ice?"
"And lemon... ta."
Bob walked off.
Seemingly, it always happened on a Saturday. FantasyMeister would stumble in, drunk, even though he hadn't been drinking, and would threaten someone to duel to the death. Even though nobody died.
It seemed quite odd... that no-one ever died. Perhaps they were in some kind of loop hole, perhaps some place that managed to block the laws of physics and create infinite souls for the inhabitants of the town...
Sniper tried to itch his arm... but the limb fell off, and landed on the floor with a *plop*.
Or perhaps it's because the writer is too scared to kill anyone off too quickly.
Sniper picked up his arm, and stuck it back on.
Yup. That was more likely.
Bob walked over with the drinks... the men started to talk.
I'm going to carry on from where pb left off.
Er-no checked for bodies... every damn one of them was alive.
The man with no name... who everybody liked to call "Bob", or sometimes "Jim", stood behind the bar... Grix, Sniper, pb, and Ant walked back in, and all sat around a table.
Bob walked over... "Drinks?"
"When did you take over the bar?"
"When that *crrraaazzzy* bartender ran off... as I said, Drinks?"
"Four cokes please."
"Ice?"
"And lemon... ta."
Bob walked off.
Seemingly, it always happened on a Saturday. FantasyMeister would stumble in, drunk, even though he hadn't been drinking, and would threaten someone to duel to the death. Even though nobody died.
It seemed quite odd... that no-one ever died. Perhaps they were in some kind of loop hole, perhaps some place that managed to block the laws of physics and create infinite souls for the inhabitants of the town...
Sniper tried to itch his arm... but the limb fell off, and landed on the floor with a *plop*.
Or perhaps it's because the writer is too scared to kill anyone off too quickly.
Sniper picked up his arm, and stuck it back on.
Yup. That was more likely.
Bob walked over with the drinks... the men started to talk.
It was aimed at everyone in general
(and everyone not in general too)
Anyway....continue....
(and everyone not in general too)
Anyway....continue....
1) I didn't introduce the hover hoss
2) I didn't introduce the GameCube
The tree in the desert like west is open to debate..
2) I didn't introduce the GameCube
The tree in the desert like west is open to debate..
Page: