Summer Of Fun Cowboys Contest

[grubl]

I've seen several Preston Sturges films (SULLIVAN'S TRAVELS, HAIL THE CONQUERING HERO, THE MIRACLE AT MORGAN'S CREEK...THE LADY EVE being the best of the bunch) and, this is a rare assesment coming from me, I feel that his films worked best, and maybe solely, in the time that they were made. Thematically and for pure entertainment, they do not age well. Too much hinges on humor, mores and observations that quickly became dated. His famed sharp dialogue has failed to impress me. Not that I can't appreciate aspects of the films.

I have not seen CHRISTMAS IN JULY, so I may feel differently about that one.

John Sturges has given me THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN, THE GREAT ESCAPE and GUNFIGHT AT THE O.K. CORRAL, he wins.

Has anybody seen HOUR OF THE GUN (1967)? I am told that it's worth checking out. Again, I'd like to wait for a chance to see it on the big screen at a revival theatre (of which we have several in the Bay Area).

[Eddie Love]

Jul 19, 2010 13:31:47 GMT -5 grubl said:

Has anybody seen HOUR OF THE GUN (1967)? I am told that it's worth checking out.

I was gonna mention that, but was up against it wordcount-wise. I've seen it, but not lately. I recall Robards was good and Garner a little bland. It's a TCM staple, they love their James Garner.

Never seen THE GUNFIGHTER, famously immortalized by Dylan in Brownsville Girl, but I'm dying to. It's not on Netflix, I checked recently.

I've never watched LONESOME DOVE, because as good as it sounds, I want to retain the sense I have of the novel, which is an experience I recommend to anyone.

[grubl]

Not that it matters in any critical way, but LONESOME DOVE was as true as an adaptation of book to film as I have seen. On top of that it is excellent. Duvall and Lee Jones have never been better.

[Eddie Love]

Jul 19, 2010 19:57:10 GMT -5 grubl said:

Not that it matters in any critical way, but LONESOME DOVE was as true as an adaptation of book to film as I have seen. On top of that it is excellent. Duvall and Lee Jones have never been better.

Yeah, I definately need to catch up with that. The director went on to make the underrated QUIGLEY DOWN UNDER with Tom Selleck, which I really liked.

[grubl]

Just a quick follow up and further incentive. Robert Duvall was on Howard Stern this week and stated that LONESOME DOVE was his favorite and, in his opinion, greatest role.

[Derrick]

29 Days Left

[tombitd]

we're down to ten--TEN--days before your chance to win a whole slew of stuff disappears...

Plus you get to mock everyone from the pile of winnings...and that's priceless, right?

So c'mon, folks--let's see those essays on your favorite cowboy movie or television show or weird western story.

[hrlambright]

My story clocked in at 1,356 words. That's probably grounds for disqualification from the contest, and if so, no problem. I like the way it turned out enough not to be all that bothered. This is the second story featuring Jimmy Chaplain that I've written. The first of which includes the encounter with the Arapaho trickster god mentioned briefly in this story and will be published in November, yadda-yadda. I'll stop before I get into shameless self-promotion territory, but I figured just a little bit of backstory might be nice. With that verbage out of the way, here's "Pick Up The Tab" featuring Jimmy Chaplain.

*********

Dust shot up in miniature whirlwinds as the door to the tavern shut behind Jimmy Chaplain’s back. A couple of locals played cards in the corner as the barkeep mopped the insides of a row of glasses, sending each one down the line. Jimmy wondered if the dirt was more from use or from disuse. An inscription over the long mirror at the back wall read, “I sold my soul for a pint of ale.”

“Charming,” Jimmy muttered to himself. He tipped his hat to the gentlemen in the corner, then hopped up to a seat at the bar.

“Gimme whatever you’ve got most of,” Chaplain said to the barkeep. “Can’t say I’ve been around before. How’s business?”

The barkeep smiled. “Business is all right. How are you this fine day?”

Jimmy shot a look out the window. Storm clouds gathered at the horizon. “Lovely. Weather’s beautiful,” he said wryly.

The barkeep finished pouring a clear liquid into a tall glass and slid it to Jimmy. “Enjoy. House special.”

Tipping the bottom of the glass skyward, Jimmy drained it in just a few gulps. “Burns,” he muttered. “What was that?”

“Pint of ale,” smiled the barkeep. “That’ll be one soul.”

Chaplain flashed a grin. “Cheeky little demon, aren’t you? Gotta admit, that was cute right there.”

“Not sure what you’re getting at, friend,” the barkeep responded, wiping his hands down on the same towel he had washed the glasses with. “I didn’t do a thing. You did.”

“I agree,” Jimmy said. His eyes flashed with a yellow glare, and the barkeep took a step back. “I knew exactly what I was getting into since an Arapaho trickster god cursed my eyes. Demon, right?”

The barkeeper wrung the towel in his hands and sighed. The whites of his eyes flushed with an energetic red as he turned to the two other patrons in the bar at the corner table. “Well, brothers, looks like we’ve been made.”

The men stood up and adjusted their belts. When they looked Jimmy in the eye, their eyes glowed red as well. “Not so bad a problem now, is it? You already own his soul, brother,” said one of the two.

The barkeeper demon shifted. “About that, brother. The man has yet to pay his debt.”

“Well, what are ye waiting for, man? Don’t tarry. A soul’s a soul,” the first demon said. “You owe us one, and I’ll be damned if you have a spare.”

“How about I offer you fine boys a counter-offer?” Jimmy asked. “A game of chance, and if I win, I keep my soul. You win, you get my soul and my life.”

“Oho! And what game of chance could entice us so?” asked the demon from the table.

Jimmy stood up and pulled out his revolver. “Six chambers here. I load in one bullet and we start a game of Russian roulette. One of you points it at your head and shoots, then me, then the second one of you, then me, and so on until we’ve hit all six chambers. Sound like a fair deal?”

“And if one of us takes the bullet?” the demon asked. “What’s to stop us from taking your soul then?”

“No honor among demons, huh?” Jimmy asked. “Well, that’s up to you. I’ve got no say, am I right? We have ourselves a game?”

“Ha! I’ll play your foolish game,” said the barkeeper demon. “You have a deal. Brothers?”

“I say we play. Humans and their games are fascinating,” said the first demon from the table. The second demon nodded in agreement.

“Good, it’s a deal,” Jimmy said, loading the bullet and spinning the chamber. The barkeep demon smiled wide. “What’s go you so excited, demon?”

“Your gamble was foolish. Even if the bullet hits myself or one of my brothers, it won’t kill us,” the demon replied. “Your lack of knowledge will be your undoing.”

“Your overconfidence makes it sound like you want the first shot, fella,” Jimmy said. He held the revolver by the barrel. “Care to have a go?”

The demon smiled as he held the gun to his temple. “I fear nothing,” he said, and pulled the trigger. A sound that rivaled an indoor thunderclap rattled the glasses, followed by a flash of light. The barkeep’s human form slumped to the ground, smoking at the edges. A hole the size of a coin was seared through his skull where the demon had been banished.

The first demon from the table seized Jimmy by the neck and pressed him against the wall in one lightning-quick motion. “Trickery!” he hissed.

“Not one bit,” Jimmy replied. “I never said what kind of ‘bullets’ I loaded into the other chambers. Met a fella on the road who told me about how he lost his soul in a bar. Your town’s a little outta my way, but I figured it was worth it. Packed a few special bullet cases with rock salt and just enough gunpowder to get that salt to pierce the skin without killing me.”

“This game is over!” the demon responded. “Your soul is ours!”

“Actually, I sealed it by calling it a deal,” Jimmy responded. “You demons can’t break a deal.”

The demon spat in Jimmy’s face as its human countenance twisted in rage. “Then continue your sick game!”

Jimmy rubbed the spot where the demon’s fingers had been around his neck. Then he picked up the gun from the fallen demon’s grasp. “Here goes nothing,” he said, and pulled the trigger.

His vision flashed white for a moment before reality came back into focus. Then he heard the casing hit the floor. The side of his head stung with salt and blood. “Your turn, demon,” Jimmy said, handing the first table demon the gun.

“If I don’t get the bullet, I will be back, human,” the demon hissed. Then, going immediately stoic, the demon pulled the trigger. Thunder rolled, and the demon’s human form hit the ground as just another charred, forgotten sack of meat in the Colorado landscape.

The silent demon remained in his seat. Jimmy picked up the gun and pointed it as his other temple. “Come on,” he whispered, and pulled again. The pain was more intense this time, but again no slug. Luck was on his side so far, but now he was back to a fifty-fifty shot.

“Your turn,” Jimmy muttered, holding his hand up to staunch the flow of blood.

The demon took the gun and pointed it as his head. “Your lucky day,” he said, speaking for the first time. He pulled the trigger and staggered sideways. A brand new hole was blown in the side of his head and continued through the other side. Jimmy watched as the skin began to knit itself back together to cover the wound.

“You do not have to take the final shot, if you will answer one question,” the demon said. “You intrigue me. What would you have done if I had been banished?”

Jimmy shrugged, now dabbing at the sides of his head with the old barkeep towel. “God knows, probably woulda pulled the trigger anyway. Seeing what I can see, makes a man go crazy.”

“I understand, Jimmy Chaplain,” the demon replied, handing Jimmy his gun. “I am called among my kind the Quiet Demon. You have given me much to think about today, so leave now with your soul intact. Know, though, that one day, I will come to collect on the debt you owe my brothers.”

Walking carefully toward the door, Jimmy took a pointed glance at each of the two dead demon-shells. “Yeah? Well, I’d like to see you try.”

The Quiet Demon nodded. “Yes, I believe you would. You may use your last salt bullet now.”

Jimmy sighed, and then turned the gun on the Quiet Demon. The salt scattered as long range, but a single grain pierced the skin of its demon-shell. Thunder followed, and Jimmy turned his eyes from the empty flesh.

Then he untied his horse and rode off into the blazing summer heat without a single look back at the dying town.

[Derrick]

TWO MORE DAYS LEFT!!

[Derrick]

Be sure to listen to BETTER IN THE DARK this Sunday where we'll announce the winners of the SUMMER O'FUN COWBOY CONTEST!