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Grand Poobah of Sarcasm
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Discussion Starter #1
Chapter 2
Home Fires
Tiger maneuvered the Ford pickup down the overgrown road. Now he had a dilemma. Not only was he pretty sure the previous owners had friends that might come looking for the girls and their dead friends but he also had to figure out how to get back to his own ranch without leaving a trail. That was going to be hard. These roads weren’t traveled often. You could see a track left in the grass and weeds for months at a time.

He looked at the wounded girl in the seat beside him. She winced as he bounced over a clump of wild rye. Tiger knew he had to balance speed of getting her help against the necessity of confusing the trail.

“How are you doing?” he asked. The girl opened her eyes and just looked at him. There was no attempt to answer him. He could feel the distrust from the girls like a layer of fog in the cab. He decided that he would try another approach. “My name is Tiger. I have a ranch near here. I am going to take you there and get you doctored and fed. After that we can discuss what you want to do. You are free to leave at any time. I am only trying to help you. Do you have any questions?” He asked. Tiger was trying to keep things as simple as possible. He figured that they were shocked from their previous experience and it would be hard to comprehend.

He was surprised when it was the wounded girl that talked first. He was taken aback with her question.

“Are you a nice man?” There was no emotion in the voice. The question was asked more like a statement.

Tiger was surprised. That wasn’t a question he had been expecting. He wondered what must be going through her head to ask that question. God only knew what kind of situation she had just come from. He suspected that she was wondering what curve ball life had just thrown her way. Tiger didn’t know what the future held but he figured it was probably better than the situation they just got out of.

He looked at her again and this time her blue eyes were locked on his face, watching him very closely. He felt as if he had to give her a very sincere answer. “I wouldn’t say I am a nice man, but I am a fair man.” He looked to see if that satisfied her. She was still staring hard at him. She still had the hard look in her eyes. Obviously he needed to give her more. “Hmm” he grunted trying to clear his throat. He felt like he was being judged and he wasn’t used to talking about his self. “I won’t hurt you or your friends if that is what you’re asking. I have a wife, two daughters and two sons not much younger than you. You will meet them in a little while. My wife and daughters are definitely nice. They will get you stitched up and clean too.” He tried to give her a smile, but her stare made it come off weak. “My boys, Stryker and Bradley, they’re just normal boys full of stuff and vinegar.”

Tiger’s heart gave a slight lurch as he thought about what bringing these four girls back to the ranch would do to his teenage boys. Inwardly he prayed to himself. “Oh God, what have I gotten myself into. My wife will be on the fight over bringing these girls home. My boys will be seething with hormones. Lord give me courage, and a bit of wisdom would be great too.” He silently beseeched.

She seemed to relax some after telling about his family. “Now what are your names? I can’t be calling you Wounded Girl and Girl by Window forever. Especially after we get out of the pickup and you’re not by the window anymore.” His lame attempt at humor brought a bit of a smile to Window Girl. Wounded Girl still looked at him without expression. He still wasn’t sure she wouldn’t knife him, given the chance. Then again, even in better days, some women would rather eat a man’s heart than give him a smile.
Finally the wounded girl said “Tiffani.”

Tiger did a double take at her. As tough as she was acting, Tiffani was the last name he expected. Tiger had always associated girls named Tiffani with fluffy pink stuff. Not bullet wounds and cold stares. Well maybe cold stares; girls had always baffled Tiger to a large extent.

Window girl followed suit. “Madison, people call me Maddy.”

“Well Tiffani and Maddy, I can’t say I am happy to meet you, but I am glad I was there in time to keep things from getting worse than they were. I need to ask, are the men I just shot likely to have friends? Ones that will come looking for them and you?”

Maddy answered “Yes, not exactly friends, but people will be looking. Their boss Scott won’t give up looking for us very easily.”

“Okay, I kind of figured that. Now I have to try and confuse our trail some and that is going to take some time. Tiffani, I need to know if you can hold on for awhile longer.”
Tiffani just closed her eyes, and said “Take your time.”

Tiger just grimaced; this one was going to be a handful. She was taking a bullet wound with more guts than most of the men he knew. He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t be screaming bloody murder if he had a chunk missing out of his arm. Much less darn near being gutted like a fish. He decided that if she was game he would do what he could to give them some cover on their back trail.

At the first intersection he came to, he turned away from the ranch and headed towards a road about five miles closer to civilization. It would have had some traffic on it. It didn’t take long to get to it. He turned onto it and followed it to the next intersection. Turned up the side road for about a ¼ mile and then backed up in his own tracks back across the road he had just turned off then pulled back onto it. He made similar turns and circled sections of land trying to make a confusing collection of tracks. He had used this trick back before the Day of the Dodo to confuse game wardens when the occasion called for it. Finally he came to an area were cows and horses heavily used the road to move from pasture to water and back again. He followed the roughed up ground until he came to a side road with more cattle tracks coming up it. He turned onto it and headed towards home. He knew that as soon as the cows moved to water again, they would obscure his tracks. He also hoped that if they picked up his trail at the Smith farm that they would turn up the side roads to check them out too. If they had several vehicles they would quickly confuse the trails and lose his scent.

When he finally neared his own ranch he took a series of roads that could be seen from the ranch. One good thing about this area of Montana, the roads were set up in a grid. You could pretty much find a road every mile and sometimes less, but always on the property lines. Tiger drove the truck in what looked like an S if drawn on a map. If they spotted anything on the road that followed the same route, they would know who it was and be ready long before they got to the ranch. One of the things that made him love Montana is even in the old days you could hear a vehicle for miles. It was so quiet. You could also see a long ways on most days. This was why Montana had been nicknamed the Big Sky state. Usually, it was easy to see very clearly 30 miles almost every day. Often, mountains over 60 miles away could be seen. It was hard for people that had never seen it to imagine. Tiger had seen more than one case of agoraphobia out here. Just as he felt claustrophobic in the mountains.

At last, Tiger pulled into the ranch. Knowing where to look, he could spot the five rifles trained on him. That made him smile. The wife and kids were doing exactly what they were supposed to. The first rifle was behind him now. His place had its share of old farm machinery too and out by his gate was an old steel wheeled tractor. It still pulled a plow with a faded “Sheridan Ranch” sign mounted on it that proclaimed, Registered Angus Cattle and Targhee Sheep on it. Now in the tall grass underneath he could see the barrel of a rifle parting the grass. From that spot, a person could shoot at anyone coming down the road and anyone that was in the front yard. Another two gun barrels were conspicuous in the front windows of the house. No one was behind these guns. Anyone attacking would expect them to be there and Tiger wanted them seen to keep their attention on those two windows where none of his loved ones were. The doghouse towards the side of the house actually sat over a window well and there would be someone in there. A hollowed out wood pile around back of the house fulfilled the same purpose on the back side. The old combine on the other side of the yard made good cover for the last defender. Its inside was filled with sandbags for ballistic protection and a hidden ditch leading from the combine back to the shop gave cover for anyone needing to leave or enter the combine. There would be another person in the top of the barn with a scoped rifle. He called that the AT&T position, because that was the person that could “Reach out and touch someone.”

It was good to see everyone in their places ready for a situation. He pulled up close to the house and the dogs jumped out immediately heading for the barn and food. He got out of the pickup quickly and hollered “Mother I’m home.” If he had said “Sweetie I’m home” he would get a different reaction. That was their code phrase for trouble. Hearing the all clear phrase, his family came out of their various places of cover. His wife was first out the door followed closely by his youngest daughter Liberty (Libby).

His wife came out with a very worried look on her face. He could see the apprehension and some fear in her eyes. He knew what her first question would be and he was right.
“What’s wrong? Whose pickup is that?” She asked.

“I’m fine, everything is Okay.” It wasn’t, but knowing his wife, this was how he could get her functioning and moving. “I found some strays over at the Smith place and they needed some help. One of them is hurt. Nothing you can’t patch up, just a good graze from a bullet. Got your thread and needle handy?”

By this time Maddy had got out of the pickup and was helping Tiffani. His wife saw the condition the girl was in and instantly became a clucking mother hen. This was just the reaction that he had been hoping for. He knew that later the invasion of her territory by the four girls would be apparent and then there would be some discussion to be had. At this point he wasn’t sure what direction they would take with the girls, but he was keenly aware that his wife was going to make that decision with very little input from him.

“Oh, you poor girl! Put your arm around me and I will help you into the house.” Not surprisingly, Tiffani rejected her shoulder and stubbornly started to the house on her own. Liberty scurried to open the door for her. “Libby, show her to the couch and go to the basement and bring up a couple bottles of Gatorade for her.” She turned back to Tiger “Are the others hurt?”

“Not as far as I know,” he replied. “I have an umm casualty in the back that didn’t make it.” He wasn’t sure yet what the relationship of the boy was to the girls and wanted to be as delicate as he could be. “To be honest I didn’t see any blood on them and didn’t ask if they needed anything. Tiffini, that’s the girl in the house, looked like my main concern.” He finished lamely feeling like a slob for not worrying more about the other girls. His main concern had been not getting shot and getting home without anyone following them.
His wife was immediately at the back of the pickup, checking the girls out. “My name is Jessie Sheridan and if he didn’t bother to tell you this is my husband Tiger. Are any of you hurt?”

“No, Mam.” They answered. The traumatized girl just shook her head and continued to wring her hands and stare at the tarp wrapped bundle on the floor of the pickup. “That’s good. I am going to help your friend first, and then I will see what I can do for you.” She turned to their oldest daughter, “Grace, I want you to take these three into the kitchen and make sure they get something to eat and especially drink. Don’t let them eat too much; I suspect they haven’t been eating often lately. In fact why don’t you get a jar of chicken soup from the basement and heat it up. Give them some bread and honey to tide them over until the soup is ready. Does that sound good girls?” That brought looks of anticipation to the girl’s faces. “I need to know your names too. Tiger said that’s Tiffani in the house. How about the rest of you?”

Maddy took the lead. “My name is Madison. You can call me Maddy. This is Sarah,” she said pointing to the other traumatized girl. “That is her brother Thomas.” She started to lose her composure and they could see that she was fighting back tears.
The last girl took over and introduced herself. “I’m Whitney. We all came from Fort Benton together.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you girls. Why don’t you go into the house with Grace and she will get you something to eat.” The girls were ushered into the house by Grace. By this time, Bradley and Stryker had come in from their defensive positions. They were trying to look grownup to impress the newcomers, but the excitement kept breaking through their façade of calmness.

Tiger was proud of his boys, but as with most fathers, they exasperated him to no end. Stryker the older at 16 was just over 6 ft tall and thin except for a wide set of shoulders, blonde and blue eyes like his father. Bradley, the younger brother, was 15 and shaped more like the Bradley fighting vehicle he was named after. He had his mother’s dark hair and brown eyes. He wasn’t fat, just built square. Tiger knew if the kid grew into his feet, Bradley would be a monster of a man. Even now at 15 he was amazingly strong and the vigors of ranch life agreed with both of them.

They both dressed like 1880’s cowboys. Wool vest, tall cowboy boots with a riding heel, jeans tucked into the tops, leather cuffs on their arms, cowboy hats with stampede strings, and even pocket watches. Both boys were wearing leather gun belts with pistols in them. Stryker carried a pair of nickel plated .357 Magnum Ruger Vaqueros. While Bradley carried a single Colt Anaconda chambered for .44 Magnum on one side and an original colt .44-40 on the other. Both boys carried rifles. Stryker preferred the 1895 Browning .45-70 lever action, while Bradley liked a bigger rifle. With his size, he could easily handle the Shiloh Sharps .50 cal buffalo rifle he carried.

Tiger had been a gun collector or “gun nut” as his wife called him, before things went to pieces. His boys had picked their dads cowboy action shooting guns out of his collection and claimed them for their own. Both were crack shots with any guns, but the pistols they carried were well worn by practice.

“I thought I told you to leave those damn cowboy guns in the gun cabinet when it looks like there might be a fight!” Tiger growled at them. “You were supposed to have The Maadi AK with a 75rd drum magazine out by the tractor, and you were supposed to have an AR inside the combine. I keep telling you boys “firepower” that’s what wins battles. If you need it and don’t have it, you are screwed. Those cowboy guns are cool but you’re betting your life on them, and the rest of our family on them! I know you two can shoot but those are just slow to reload” As usual it went in one ear and out the other.

“Sorry Pa”

“Okay Pa”
“And quit calling me Pa! I’m your Dad. Pa makes me sound like some sort of hillbilly!” Tiger snarled. “Bradley, I want you to go in and pump the reservoir on the stove full of water and get the stove nice and hot. Your Mom is doctoring and is going to want plenty of hot water. Stryker, go out to the butcher house and do the same thing. We have four girls to clean up and it is going to take a lot of hot water. Come to think of it when was the last time you two washed the vermin off?”

“Just yesterday Dad” replied Stryker.

“Dad, what’s their story?” asked Bradley.

“I’m not completely sure. I’ll tell you what I know later and maybe we can get them to tell us where they have been. That reminds me, one of them has a brother wrapped up in that tarp in the back of the pickup. We are going to have to bury him. After you get the water boiling I want you to go get a couple of shovels and a pick. You two desperadoes can start digging a grave.

The boys headed off for their respective tasks. Tiger shook his head thinking about the boys and their western fascination. It could be worse. Since the Day of the Dodo, many different groups had grasped onto different cultures or ideologies to cope with survival. Tiger had heard of communities of Gaelic’s, Celts, Vikings, Scots, Witches; even some mythical stories were being copied. Tiger had no doubt that somewhere there was a bunch of people trying to live like hobbits, and probably a Hogwarts too. Tiger chuckled to himself as he thought about how the renaissance types were faring against modern weapons. He figured the real idealists were being weeded out of the gene pool really fast. He’d pay money to see someone try some Wiccan magic against an AK-47. He knew who he’d put his money on, and it wasn’t the voodoo doll bunch.

In fact his boys, to Tiger’s horror, had nearly chosen to emulate Star Trek. The boys were much younger and had seen some old original Star Trek on DVD. They had run around for weeks pretending they had phasers. They had even begged their mom to make them uniforms. She had finally relented and made them a pair of shirts. They had even talked her into sewing herself a Lt. Ohura uniform complete with the 1970’s miniskirt. She had done it to humor them. In the end Tiger enjoyed it the most. Once in awhile he would talk Jessie into pulling it out of the closet for a little excitement. Tiger smiled at those memories and made a mental note to get her to bring it out again, or maybe her old cheerleading outfit. Either way he would be more than pleased.

Tiger liked science fiction but there was no way he was going to let his rancher friends see his boys running around with phasers on stun. Instead, he had went to the attic and found his Dad’s collection of Louis Lamour books. The boys had devoured them and took what ideals Lamour books promoted to heart. Now the boys acted and dressed like Louis Lamour characters. Tiger was pretty sure they thought of themselves as Sacketts. The Sackett’s stories were about a tough as nails hill country family. Tiger decided that it was making good men out of them, besides he kind of liked thinking of himself as a western hero too.

Tiger decided that the boys looked like they were going to do as they were told for a change. He headed into the house to see how Jessie was fairing. He met her coming back out the door.

“Hon, we need some pain killer. That girl is putting on a good tough act, but I don’t think she can take the stitches without something to dull the pain.”

“Okay, I’ll get her some weed to take the edge off.” Tiger headed into his bedroom to open the gun safe where he kept their marijuana. Until things fell apart, neither of them had ever smoked a joint. They still didn’t for recreation, but it was the only thing they had found that would dull the pain of wounds. There wasn’t any drug store to run to. The way the government had fouled up the pharmaceutical industry in the past, Tiger didn’t figure they would see any prescription drugs in a long time. He supposed somewhere there were still junkies, but the bird flu had changed a lot of things. As it was, there weren’t any poppy fields to get any decent pain killers, so they had to settle for pot. It had been relatively easy to get some when they decided that it was their only alternative for pain mediation. After all, anyone that wanted pot had always had pot. War on drugs or not. Heck they grew it in the garden now.

Still he didn’t want his kids being reefer addicts and even though they could pick it out of the garden he kept the cured weed in his safe. Just as a reminder to them all that it was not to be abused.

Popping his gun safe open, he got the weed and a pipe and went to their living room. Tiffani was lying back on the couch which had been covered with some clean sheets with plastic underneath to protect the couch. Libby was coaching Tiffani to drink the precious Gatorade. Tiger remembered when as a young man he always kept a few in his refrigerator for curing hangovers.

“Come on, drink some more, it has electrolytes in it. You need to keep hydrated and this stuff is great for that.”

Tiger wondered if Libby had ever had a sip of their dwindling supply of Gatorade. They only used it for medical emergencies. His girls had been lucky and were rarely sick. The boys weren’t sick often, but tended to get banged and cut up too much for Jessie’s piece of mind.

Tiffani finally relented and started sipping the drink. Once she got a taste of it, her body remembered that she needed liquids and she quickly emptied the bottle.

Jessie had prepared a tray of supplies for her surgery, and was ready to begin. She kneeled down next to her and quietly started to explain what they were going to do. “Tiffani, we need to get your wound cleaned out and stitch it up. To do this we are going to have to put alcohol in the wound. It’s all we have left for disinfectant. It is really going to hurt, so I am going to have you smoke some marijuana to dull the pain. It will still hurt, but you seem pretty tough. So I think you will do fine.” Tiger handed her the pipe that he had stuffed and lit. “So smoke as much as you can, and then we will start.”

The way the girl puffed on the pipe, Tiger figured she was more than familiar with the weed. When she started to get a glazed look in her eyes Jessie announced they could start and directed Libby to get some whiskey to put on the wound.

Libby came back carrying Tiger’s last bottle of Lord Calvert Canadian Whiskey.
“No! You don’t!” Tiger hollered swiping the bottle from Libby. “Go get that Bull Hooks Bottom moonshine. You didn’t think I was going to let you take the best whiskey in the county and pour it out did you?” To emphasize his point Tiger took a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle and resolved to hide the bottle in a safe place.

Jessie started removing the bandage that Tiger had wrapped around her. She was making noises, casting dirty looks at Tiger as she did it. “Well that’s just a nasty piece of filth.” She said as she removed the outer wrap. “You couldn’t find a dirty diaper to use?”
Tiger knew better than to answer.

Once the dressings were removed, she examined the wound. Using a pair of tweezers to pull back the edges and look for dirt and debris. Satisfied that the wound was clean of foreign objects, she took the moonshine and poured it into the cut.

For the first time, Tiffani gave up on her stoicism and let out a holler. Tiger was impressed because it wasn’t a scream. She visibly relaxed after a few moments as the pain started to fade. Jessie then took a cotton ball soaked in the alcohol and dabbed it around the wound making sure that it was all well soaked.

She picked up her suture kit and started getting ready to start stitching.
Libby surprised both her Mom and Dad by asking “Mom, can I do the sutures? I’ve read all your medical books and practiced suturing a lot”

Tiger knew she had a keen interest in medical training but at age 10 he didn’t think much of it. He had seen her looking at the books more than once, but had never imagined that she fancied doing the procedures herself.

“Practiced?” asked her Mom.
At this question Libby looked hesitant to answer, but excitement overcame her hesitancy. “When Dad loses a pig or lamb, I practice on them. I’ve done lots of stitches.
“It’s true Mom. I’ve seen her work.” Added Grace. “She’s kind of a gruesome sister. She’s done lots of the operations that are shown in the book “Where there are no Doctors.” She’s pretty good at it too. Morbid but good.”
With that pronouncement Tiger decided maybe another swig of whiskey was in order. His boys thought they were western gunslingers and his 10 year old daughter was Dr Quinn, Medicine Women. He wondered what talent Grace was hiding.

Jessie was clearly surprised too, but she seemed to bounce back quickly. “So you think you can do this?”

“No problem, Mom” Libby declared.

Jessie looked at Tiffani and asked “What do you think, it’s your body?”
Tiffani just shrugged her shoulders and winced at the movement.

“Okay, I’ll let you give it a try, but if I think you are not doing it right I will take over. Understand?” asked Jessie.

“I understand.” Turning to Tiffani she declared “I’ll have you fixed up in no time.”
Tiffani just stared and took another puff on the pipe.

Libby didn’t waste time and started putting the stitches in. Quickly sewing the wound shut. She even managed to make it look like the pictures in the medical books. They quickly repeated the process with the arm. When she was finished Libby instructed Tiffani to drink the second Gatorade and to keep drinking the water that Grace had brought in. She told her that as soon as she thought she could eat they would feed her some of the chicken soup too. Tiffani blearily nodded and fell back onto the pillows asleep.

Jessie motioned for Tiger to follow her into the bedroom. Tiger followed knowing that this was the time of reckoning. When they got to the bedroom Jessie closed the door behind them and asked in a hushed voice.

“So when you left the house this morning you were just going to circle the ranch and look around. What happened on your little ride? Did you find a yard sale for strays at the neighbors? Or did you just flag down a carload of wayward girls and decide to give them a home?”

“Well it is kind of a long story, but I found them over at the Smith place holed up in the house with some bad guys trying to get them to give up and come with them. So I offered them a safe place to stay and get healed up.” Tiger knew better than to give all the details of his scuffle that morning.

“And where are these guys that were so bad the girls couldn’t be around them. I suppose you just told them nicely to stop bothering the girls?” Jessie’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Yep that is pretty much how it went. Can we have something to eat now?’

Tiger ducked the flying pillow, and cringed as his wife picked up his 4-H Champion Showman trophy and cocked her arm to throw.

“Tiger, you start talking or I’ll start bouncing things off that thick head of yours!”
“Honest, Jess those guys won’t bother us” He ducked as she faked him out with a false throw.

“I bet they won’t. Any of them live thru your little talk with them?”

“No, but I didn’t kill them all.”


“One of the girls got off a lucky shot and killed one.” Tiger said trying to downplay his role.

“How many is all?”

“There were only five of them, and I think they looked pretty sickly anyway. They didn’t look like they had more than three or four decades left to live.” Jessie made a strangled sound in her throat. Tiger just loved to work her like this. She would be laughing at him before the discussion was over. She might not be happy with him, but she wouldn’t kick him out either.

“So you shot five men this morning before breakfast? Oh, sorry four, I forgot the girls winged one. Then decided to bring four girls back to our ranch and introduce them to your teenage boys. Do you have anything interesting planned for the afternoon?”

Tiger decided to use some sarcasm of his own. “Well I thought we could get them cleaned up and then I could take them upstairs and whoop it up until I can’t see straight. Maybe by the time Tiffani is healed up I will be recovered enough to take on all four.”

Now Tiger was starting to wonder if she just might throw the trophy at him. He wondered if maybe that shot over her bow, hit a little closer than it should have. She lowered the trophy and put it back. Tiger wasn’t sure if she had decided to get past the invasion of her home by four girls or if she was simply looking for something more lethal to hit him with.

“Seriously hon, the girls needed help and I wasn’t going to let them get carried away to be someone’s prostitutes. At this point I wouldn’t change a thing I did this morning. Besides we don’t know what the girls want. They may want to stay with us, or maybe just have a couple of good meals and move on. I haven’t asked them and at this point they aren’t ready to make any decisions. Let’s get them cleaned up, fed, and clothed in something besides those rags they are wearing. Then they can tell us their story or stories.
Sound fair?”

Jessie nodded in agreement with him. He loved his wife. Once you laid the cards on the table and explained things, she usually would agree with him. She wasn’t the type that would carry on about some imagined slight and make his life miserable until he groveled for forgiveness. He had known women like that and could not understand how their husbands put up with them or why.

“I had the boys fire up the butcher house stove and put water on, so they can all take baths and get cleaned up.”

Jessie nodded with him again. “Good, it should be plenty hot by now. I want to check them over and make sure they don’t have any lice or ticks on them. I will have Grace try and find some clothes for them. I hope they aren’t too picky. In fact I will have Grace find her ugliest most unflattering clothes to cover them with.” She said with a smirk. She then stopped and got a serious look. “What do we do with them then?”

Tiger inwardly winced; the serious part of the conversation had arrived.
“We could always use the help. You need help with the garden and putting it up. Maybe they like riding and will want to help with the cows. With some more help we can go from just getting by to having extra. Winter will be here soon and I could use more help putting up hay and firewood. There’s plenty of work for everyone”

Jess agreed with him and said, “Your right. We have plenty of work for everyone. The boys work too hard for their age” Tiger rolled his eyes at this. He figured that hard work was good for them. “Food isn’t a problem. We have plenty of beef and with some help canning and drying, we should be able to put a lot more of the garden up before it spoils. We can use the extra people to help weed. That will make it produce more.” Jess ended.

“Well, let’s see what type of people they are before we ask if they want to stay on.” Tiger replied.

Jessie grabbed his chin in her hand shaking his head and looking him directly in the eyes. “Okay, let’s get them settled in and then you can explain to me how you single-handedly took down a gang of kidnappers.” She gave him a kiss on the lips and smiled at him. “I’m just glad your okay.”

Grand Poobah of Sarcasm
3,083 Posts
Discussion Starter #7
Nope, no movie scripts yet. but it sure would be fun advising them on this movie.
I would have loved to been able to be behind the scenes on Jericho. It would have looked a lot different.

Say no to NWO PLEASE!
1,009 Posts
Hurray! Finally a story with some weed in it:) Does work to dull the pain, but it ain't more miracle.

Shaping up to two wives for each of the boys? Just joking, can't wait for chapter 3.

w/ Knowledge Comes Power
83 Posts
Lol'd about the star trek outfits and the ohura miniskirt. Might have to get my wife one of those. Great referance to the Sacketts it is one of my all time favorite westerns and shadow riders too. Great read like waiting for chrismas morning for another chapter

смерть н
3,823 Posts
Well Done !!!

I find your writing to be quite believable and easy to follow. I like your character development and found myself sitting in the saddle beside Tiger looking out over the Montana landscape. Continue on sir :thumb:

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Game Face
134 Posts
Chapter 2 is even better than Chapter 1! I loved how you weaved the various pop culture references, such as the old AT&T ad slogan "Reach out and touch someone." I am both a Trekkie and a L'Amour fan...absolutely delightful... No guns on stun for me, either.

Keep up the good work!

Game Face
134 Posts I was slightly off...Montana is *not* the midwest. I knew that. Great read. As long as my eyes hold out. I'll keep going. :)

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