THE GUNNIST!

The Gunnist, Adam Donovan, adjusted his hat using his six-shooter. The sun was unusually yellow that day, like a camel with a tan. Miss McReedy, the schoolmarm, was bringing a basket of sandwiches, and Muto, the schoolmime, was trapped in an invisible box. Donovan and the teacher were having a picnic, which explained the sandwiches, if not the invisible box.

Suddenly, a dark and mysterious stranger with a big black beard rode up on a mean-looking horse with a big black beard. “Gunnist!” He shouted. “I come to call you out. They say you’re the best gunfighter from here to eternity, but I say different. I’m Beardy the Cowboy, and I’m the fastest draw in the Western Hemisphere.” The horse whinnied through his beard, as did the cowboy.

“Be careful, Adam,” Miss McReedy wailed, which was a tad melodramatic. She was on a first name basis with the Gunnist, as he was with her, though as she had no first name they simply called each other Adam.

“I reckon, Beardy,” Donovan said to Beardy, “that we best not draw our firearms in the presence of lady folk.”

“I knew it. Yer yella! Like a camel with a tan,” Beardy laughed, shaking his beard like tar-flavored cotton candy. “Let it be known throughout this land that I defeated the Gunnist by default. Har Har!

“Be careful, Adam,” Miss McReedy wailed, forgetting she had already done so. The basket of sandwiches quivered in her hands, because it was a scary moment and sandwiches are cowardly. Even heroes.

“I reckon, Beardy,” Donovan said to Beardy, “we best settle this. I cain’t be having my good name sullied in these parts. Not these parts.” He repeated the parts part for emphasis.

“Then I give you to the count of 3,” Beardy said, dismounting his horse, then his beard. “If’n you can count that high. Har Har!”

“You ain’t so clever by half,” Donovan snapped. “We’ll count down from 3, then draw on draw.”

“And it’ll be 3-2-1 draw, or 3-2-draw?”

“Surprise me, stranger,” the Gunnist quipped.

“Be careful, Adam,” Miss McReedy whaled. But the countdown had begun! 3-2-1… draw! As Beardy pulled his rifle from behind, Donovan whipped his six-shooter at Beardy’s midsection, beaning him in directly in the abdomen. A direct hit! Beardy was stunned, disarmed and hurt. There were tears in his eyes, too. The day was saved. Adam Donovan, the Gunnist, was still the best there ever was. And Miss McReedy was still his lady. Beardy had lost! And there were sandwiches to be eaten. But perhaps best of all, Muto had escaped the invisible box. And they were all friends forever. The End.