The Final Epic Narration of Epic Epic-ness
It was just the two of them now. PoorBoyBlues and TheFlyingGreenMonkey, all that was left of the once booming town of Townston. PoorBoyBlues had chased off the last of the showgirls, and that was an offence that TheFlyingGreenMonkey could not forgive. At noon, PoorBoyBlues was going to die, in the most epic way possible.
PoorBoyBlues was hungover from his encounter with the showgirl last night. He swore up and down that he would never accept a drink from a pretty girl, especially if the name included the words "dead", "Liver-buster", "Fire", or "Pangalactic Gargle Blaster". He walked to the kitchen of the house he had taken up residence in. He pulled out a skillet and a blender, and began making the Armageddon Hangover Cure. Three strips of bacon, seven eggs, three fired, four raw, gunpowder, a raw chicken gizzard, axle grease, spoiled milk, a shot of soured lemon juice, and a habenaro pepper, all blended together. After making the vile concoction, he braced himself and downed it in three large gulps. Why he still had a drinking problem is anybody's guess. He grabbed his hat and headed to the town square.
TFGM was there waiting. "I've been waiting for you. You have done the unforgivable."
"Is this about last night? Because after Sammy's Rio Grande Liver-Buster, everything's kinda fuzzy." replied PBB
"YOU RAN OUT THE LAST GIRL IN TOWN!! WHO AM I GONNA DATE NOW?!?" screamed TFGM.
"Oh, that would explain the restraining order."
TFGM stared PBB down. The seconds ticked by and the wind swept dust and tumbleweeds down the street.
The clock tower tolled noon.
Both of the men pulled out their weapons, but PBB was just a little faster. He fired aiming between TFGM's eyes. TFGM only had a split second to register what was going he twisted out of the path of the oncoming .38 caliber cylinder of death. The bullet screamed by his ear. PBB was readying another shot, but TFGM had his gun up and aimed at PBB's chest. PBB moved to the side just as TFGM pulled the trigger. He felt a tug as the bullet tore through his jacket. He drew a bead on TFGM as the other ran for cover. He fired aiming for the middle of the Mayor's back. TFGM twisted around at the last second, diving under the bullet while bringing his gun to bear. He fired twice, trying to make two new orifices in PBB's chest. PBB didn't have time to dodge, He fired twice, hoping for a miracle.
PBB deflected the bullets.
Both men dived behind cover, breathing hard. PBB stuck his head out from behind a crate. TFGM did the same from behind the barrel he had decided to use as cover. They both ran out and fired, PBB twice, TFGM thrice. Five bullets landed in meaty targets.
Bessie and Daisy, the town's finest milking cows are dead
Bullets spent, the two men looked at each other.
"Ya know," said PBB, "with Hark dead and no one ever attacking Old Man Higgins, there were plenty of unused and unattended explosives for the taking. Enough to blow everything sky-high." And he clicked a button on the remote he had just pulled out of his pocket.
"I know," said TFGM as he smiled, "Why do you think I rewired everything to respond to this remote." TFGM pulled out another remote and clicked its single button.
Every single building, except the bakery, and every single street blew up in one thunderous explosion that they saw in Jolly ol' England.
the town of Townston is no more.
TFGM and PBB emerged from the rubble at the same time. The kid gloves were off now. Four shotguns were raised by two men and 32 shells were ready to be flung at them. PBB fired as TFGM ducked and returned the favor. PBB sidestepped and charged toward the Mayor of Townston. TFGM Spun his body around as PBB fired at point blank range. TFGM fired back, but PBB swept the barrel off target right as he pulled the trigger. PBB and TFGM stood up and faced each other.
"Your shotgun-fu is strong young one," TFGM said, his words not matching his lips.
"As is yours, But I am stronger!" PBB replied, his lips not matching his words either.
"We shall see grasshopper."
TFGM whipped both shotguns up and fired at PBB. PBB dived down and aimed at TFGM knees. TFGM jumped above the double blast and swung a shotgun down to fire at PBB's head. PBB barely moved in time as the blast caught his hat and ripped it to shreds. PBB fired at TFGM catching his jacket and ripping it to pieces.
"You have insulted my hat," stated PBB plainly, "Honor demands death!"
"You have much to learn young one."
TFGM cast off his hat and his ruined jacket. He shifted his stance and brought his guns to bear.
"Prepare yourself, for no man had survived my mayorhood yet."
Both of them danced the deadly dance of shotguns and kicks, Fire was exchanged and clothing was damaged. The combatants suddenly stopped, their muscled chest gleaming in the early afternoon sun. PBB brought both of his shotguns to bear and aimed at TFGM head. He pulled the triggers and...
PBB's eyes went wide with shock. TFGM aimed at his right leg and fired one shell into the man's leg. PBB went down clutching the wound as TFGM walked up to him.
"This is a 12-gauge shotgun with an eight round magazine. So the question is, was the my 15th or 16th shot. So you gotta ask, do you fell lucky punk, well do ya?"
PBB pulled out his knife and lunged at TFGM. TFGM pulled the trigger.
PoorBoyBlues aka Musty Bill is dead.
About an hour later in Iceland PP, Gullas, and Rokulily received the following telegram:
Remodelings done, ya'll can come back now.
Mafia XXIV is over. thanks for playing.