Snippet #2763417

"You're in the trouble now son," Deputy Tackel of Schittle said as he spat grit and gristle and probably a loose tooth out to one side. "You done picked the wrong town to crime spree in, you hear?"

The scum in front of him was some dward teen, Tackel reckoned. Just beginning to grow those horrendous whiskers, their eyes just gaining the glossy dull look all the adults had. Tackel spat again. He hated dwards.

"I hate dwards!" Tackel sneered. "And I hate 'em even more when they real crimers, see. Me and the Sheriff... we don't take kindly to crimers. And you're a crimer, plain and simple."

"Sir I please, do not kill me," the dward in front of him cowered as Tackel leaned over the miscreant. "I just want to help family. They are very sick, see, and need food!"

"You brought your filthy family into my town!" Tackel slammed his fist into the dward's rocky head in pure outrage. "Are you tryin' to kill us all, you stupid dward? Get outta here, get outta here!"

The dward fled in tears, and Tackel snorted in satisfaction. Job accomplished. Time to report to the Sheriff. But as Tackel turned, he saw something he'd never seen before. A huge metallic meteor hurtled through the sky and exploded into the ground. The fires burned upwards brightly, and Tackel could hear the screams and sobs of his townspeople around him.

"S-Sheriff!" Deputy Tackel yelled, picking himself up off his bottom, which he had fallen onto in shock. "Sheriff, we done got a problem! SHERIFF!" Still yelling, Tackel ran towards the sheriff's office building, his bone-white hat held in one hand and his pistol in the other.