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Snippet #1851787

located in Sonata's Gunslinger Logs, a part of The Gunslinger, one of the many universes on RPG.

Sonata's Gunslinger Logs

Old Game Logs.

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Character Portrait: The Gunslinger Character Portrait: The Drifter
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The Green Family: First Encounter
Other Notable Scenes: Zieg's mentor's first and only appearance, the mirage round introduced, and Bubba Green's first death.

The door was kicked open, revealing a woman with her leg raised. Her massive boot slammed upon the floorboards as she marched further inside. She swung her fists as though she meant business and cocked her hip to the right, resting her manicured nails upon it. Behind her scrambled in a shorter man with wild eyes. His long fingers constantly fondled each other like he were rubbing his hands beneath a faucet. A wild grin was spread across his face as he snapped his head left and right, looking for the whereabouts of him. The last man that thudded in was wide and plump. The floorboards groaned under his huge feet. The suspenders he wore had a broken strap and the other was just hanging on. His eyes were a glowing white, tiny, and dense like the first impression he delivered. His thick lips pulled and sucked at an icey, chocolate bar that dribbled sticky syrup all over his shirt.

Swinging her hips in the other direction, the freckled-face belle scowled and wrinkled her nose.

"A~ll right! Nobody is goin' tah move until they tell me, if they seen this fellar we're looking!" she screamed.

The Gunslinger remained sprawled on his back across the floor, listening to the announcement curiously.

"We're looking for a tall, ugly, red-headed fellar with nice guns. If someone tells us, then we won't have tah git' nasty."

The shorter man cackled shrilly and clapped his hands.

"Git nasteh! Git nasteh! Yeeehooo!" he screamed.

The Gunslinger clapped a hand over his face.

I ain't ugly, he thought in vain.

The belle was known as Iris Green, and her face flushed red when she received nothing but silence.

"Nothin' eh?" she queried.

Wiping her palms upon her once vibrant pink gown, she crossed her thin arms at her stomach and ordered to her brothers, Eddie and Big Bubba Green, "I guess they ain't talkin' boys. Take care of this place."

Eddie Green immediately darted for the fire like a blur. The little guy was inhumanly quick and began digging burning logs free like a dog in a hole, flinging kindle onto tables, chairs, and the floor until the fire was all put out. Iris then raised her brows. They knitted at the top of her head when she noticed a certain member of her trio had yet to act.

The pig-tailed queen turned her head over her shoulder to see Big Bubba green lapping his tongue about a popsicle. His face was sticky with chocolate and though the bar had dissolved he was engrossed with the flavor remaining on the stick.

With her elbow, she jabbed him in his pot belly and snapped, "Damn you Bubba. Git yer big ass over dere and break somethin'!"

Upon getting elbowed in the gut, the startled brother dropped his popscicle stick. His tongue buzzed outside his mouth, spraying spittle all over the place, and after five seconds, the message was finally delivered. His mouth opened wide and he bellowed a barbaric roar. Swinging his meaty arms, he barrelled through tables and chairs, and belly-flopped upon the bar, smashing it under his gait.

The Gunslinger was upon his back, his legs were arched and the balls of his feet were sliding him along the floor as he still kept his cover.

How did they find me here? he pondered.

He swerved into the kitchen, passing through the swinging door as he removed his guns from his holsters. He popped open the cylinders, inspecting the rounds nestled within them, and snapped them closed. He always began with normal rounds. Rolling over onto his hands and knees, he crawled behind the island counter and put his back to it as he thought about, sparing the bar the damage from his pursuers.

Ugh...I know they got someone workin' for them, he mused.

The mysterious slinger-for-hire hadn't showed his face yet, but he knew he was there somewhere.

Iris continued to watch her brothers terrorize the place. Eddie was dissecting the couch with his fingers and teeth, rapidly clawing at the material and tossing chips of foam into the air, and Bubba stabbed his sausage fingers into the glass liquor cabinet, ripping free the doors and tossing them to the floor. His hands then swatted around at the bottles, shattering them and spilling alcohol behind the ruins of what was once a bar. There soon was nothing else to break. Everything that was downstairs was in shambles and still there was no Gunslinger or a glimmer of his precious guns.

"Okay, stop! Search the upstairs and the bathrooms!" she ordered next.

They would bring down the bar, looking for him.

The Gunslinger winced from all the noise. He could only imagine the damage. Plaster from the ceiling, then pelted down on his hat. His dark eyes darted to the chips that tumbled about him. She sent Big Boy upstairs he thought with dread. That was all they'd need for him to put holes in the roof. The brother was ADHD.

Who knew what was upstairs? Why didn't they think I'd left? he thought strategically.

If they were still certain that he was in the building, then he was certain the hired gun was outside. Rising, the Gunslinger crept over to the back door and rested his shoulder upon the wall. He turned his head slightly, peering out the glass window to see a silhouette of a man, waiting there patiently like the whole time he could see where he was. He hesitated to leave the kitchen.

Flailing his arms about, Bubba Green burst into one of the bedrooms, still screaming until his glowing eyes dilated at the sight of a queen-sized bed. Why, that was a bed big enough for Bubba. Unlike the tiny hammock he slept in that was flattened beneath him.

"Bouncey! Bouncey!" he exclaimed and dribbled his feet in an excited dance much like a child.

The large man lunged at the bed, the springs sank and the iron frame bent to the floor. He blinked his eyes when the floor depressed, breaking to drop the giant in the middle of the bar. He landed like a demolition ball, causing the walls to quake and ceiling lamps to tumble.

Iris's eyes were bright with surprise when she saw her brother, flailing about on his back, trapped in a flora-designed quilt.

"You idjit," she snapped. "You gon' jumped on the bed again, didn't ye?"

She then stomped over to him to help him out of the blanket.

Meanwhile, a few ladies and gents fled from the bathrooms holding their pants and trailing tissue paper from their asses. Eddie bolted out on his hands and feet, galloping like an ape. He smelt of shit, his clothes were dusted with porcelain, and his nails and soles were brown.

Iris scrunched her nose up, and exclaimed, "Peu! Eddie, you stink!"

Bubba flailed like he were making a snow angel and cheered between obnoxious laughter, "Eddie smell like poopie! Ahahahaha!"

Eddie absent-mindedly laughed along with his brother in his shrill chatter.

The Gunslinger was making a disturbed face as he overheard the chaotic gaggle in the other room. He shook his head, his adrenaline having reached its peak. Drawing his guns, he kicked the door open and stormed outside. He leaned into his sprint, his boots propelled him as though he weighed not a thing. His hat clung to his hairline, threatening to lift off his head, and his heavy, long-coat raised some inches from the back of his legs. As the clouds moved from the moon and bathed the night in silver, the gunslinger was startled as his bloody oculars captured the familiar contors of the gunman. The stipple that porcupined his face, his stern black eyes, and thin lips. It took only a second for him to realize he hesitated, but by then it was too late.

The hired gun fired from his revolver a round that pulled at the Gunslinger's body. His body became burden to move from the muscles in his face to the slightest twitch of his finger. To his horror, he recognized it to be a slow round. The bullet moved just as slow as he did, leaving the barrel like a snail to float towards him, and there was nothing he could do. The Gunslinger watched his fingers making their slow pull on the triggers of his revolvers. The cylinders turned sluggishly, and by then the hired gun had fired four rounds from his twins. Two into his pectorals and two into his abdomen. The Gunslinger couldn't even make a face of anguish, still caught in the time freeze.

The freeze after twenty seconds subsided, and the final roundβ€”the first that had left the barrel collided with his chest. The gunslinger's legs collapsed beneath him as his body simmered. His soles slid as the inertia of his run still carried him forward, and he rolled across the ground to stop in a heap before the hired gun's feet. Was he going to die? He was panting quickly, feeling his warm blood oozing from the holes in his body. The hired gun kicked the Gunslinger over with the toe of his boot and stared down into his moist face.

"You've become arrogant boy," the hired gun said gruffly. His voice was grizzly as he then crouched and pressed the cold barrel of his revolver against his forehead. "Don't become over-confident..."

The hired gun's words faded on a whisper as the Gunslinger then blinked his eyes. The pain was suddenly gone, and the man was no longer there. Quickly, he sat up and looked around. His fingers felt about his vest and chest. There was a bruise where a round had hit him on his sternum, and what a round it was.

"The mirage..." he whispered in disbelief.

Not even he carried that round. Sitting up, he breathed and wiped his sleeve across his face. He had become over-confident with his round choice. Lowering his arm, he gazed at the bar. There was still a matter he had to deal with.

The Green family had overheard the gunshots outside and raced out the front, searching all over for the gun fight.

"He must of found him!" Iris yelled.

They ran around back to find the Gunslinger standing there with his index fingers curled and twirling his revolvers upon their trigger guards. Iris was taken back to see their target still alive.

"Wh-where did the otha' guy go?" she demanded.

Eddie was chuckling quietly, a volume he only used when he was nervous, while Bubba's long tongue stirred within his nostrils, collecting sweet and sticky boogers.

"Let's just say...your gunman ditched you," the gunslinger explained. "I heard you wanted my guns...let's see you try and take'em."

Iris paled a bit, and then reached down to grasp a wad of her dress. She yanked the material up to reveal a toned thigh, fuzzy with hair that was far from feminine and strapped to her inner thigh was a pistol. She removed the pistol and yanked back the slide. Eddie yanked from the back of his pants a SMG, and Bubba..., well, he was still digging at those boogies.

The Gunslinger's lip arched in disgust when he saw the man-hair coating Iris's leg. It made him wonder if Iris Green was actually an Ivan Green in drag though her face looked nothing like a man's. The thought still made him feel sick along with the dirty thought of ever banging her in her spider web of a vagina. When the family drew their guns, he broke into a sprint. His right hand tucked his pistol away as his left remained drawn. Iris began firing as soon as The Gunslinger started moving, and Jackie responded ecstactically with his SMG, bouncing and screaming obscenities. The Gunslinger countered, firing three bullets that exploded on contact with Iris's rounds, and the scattered fire of the hyperactive one. He just needed to clear himself a hole. His right hand tucked into his inner coat pocket to draw out a single round that he didn't insert into his revolver. He waved it at Bubba.

"Want some candy, fella'?" he questioned, and rolled behind a tree to dodge the next volley of rounds that tore at the bark.

Bubba's eyes dilated and his mouth opened wide. He nodded his head and clapped his hands happily. Squeezing the round between his thumb and index finger, his thumb eventually flicked the round in the big boy's direction, and Bubba Green gulped it down. Iris only noticed the glitter of something fly into her brother's mouth, and knew it wasn't good.

"Bubba!" she screamed.

Eddie was still wildly shooting at the tree the Gunslinger was hiding behind. There was a groan in Bubba's stomach. His hands went to grasp it as it began to swell in his hands. His last suspender strap popped free as a button flew into the air. He swelled like a balloon, frightening Iris as she stepped back in fear and accidently bumped into Jackie who was stirred from his high. They both gawked at Bubba until his body trembled, no longer able to swell any bigger, and with a loud bang, he blew up. Fire and smoke mushroomed into the air and the aftershock through the rest of the Green's off their feet.

The Gunslinger peeked from behind his cover at the two, knowing full well that wasn't the end of Bubba for Bubba Green was an enigma. The black and scorched behemoth fell from the sky to land like a weight next to his siblings. A dark smog dispersed from his clothes, and the Gunslinger was certain that was the end of that...for now.