The Gunfighter, The Lion, and The Dandy by db brisban

Word Count 430

It was as clear as a summer sky.  The old man was using him and the snobby Bostonian of a brother he had recently learned about to save the only thing he did have feelings for, the goddamned ranch.  He couldn’t believe the disappointment he felt at such a finding.  He always had been too sensitive.

Seems he’d let his fair-haired child live the good life, wanting for nothing with his rich grandfather, and then, when he had tired of fucking his second wife, his beautiful, crazy, but exotic mother, he’d thrown her and himself, a worthless ‘breed’ son out.

Well, he was about to find out just how much his ‘breed son was worth now. 

“I tell you what ol, man.  This is nothin’ but another job for me.  I don’t want part of your fucking ranch.  I’ll just take my usual protection fee, which in a case like this, is $5000.00.  That don’t include this thousand dollars of listenin’ money you gave me.”

Murdoch Lancer stood and stared at his two sons.  It was clear to Johnny that the old man wasn’t used to being talked to in this manner.  ‘Arrogant bastard,’ he thought to himself.

He continued in his usual cold as ice, expressionless manner, “Also, I call the tune as you call it, as to how this dance will go.”

“Now, wait just a minute!”  Scott interrupted him, “I’m the one who has military experience as a commander on a battlefield.  I’ve studied . . . “

“Shut the fuck up, Boston.  You got no idea what you’re talkin’ about.   Like I said ol’ man, $5000.00, half now and half when the job’s finished.  I’m in complete charge, or I’ll go upstairs, get my saddlebags, saddle up the horse and be out of here.”

“Who the hell do you think you’re talkin’ to, boy?  Just who the hell do you think you are?”  Murdoch roared. 

“I’m Johnny Madrid, that’s who.  Now, what’s it gonna be?  I need ta know and I need ta know now!”

—–d.b.brisbin, May 2010

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