Angelica poured the last of the bottle into Edith’s glass. Her agent nodded appreciatively as she swirled it around, more for posture and show than to actually derive anything from it.

"You’re exaggerating. It wasn’t that bad."

”The word I used was ‘awful’, tee why ess em. And I should’ve done a better job as Captain!"

Angelica sighed and sat herself down in the sofa next to Edith. War Games hadn’t gone her way, but she was more disappointed in herself than in any of her team mates, who had all fought admirably.

"What’s done is done. I’m sure there’s no ill will from Vita, Raion or even Mr. Oz. And your sister didn’t make it to the final either, did she?"

”She *did* say she was proud of me for that stunt I pulled, snatching Vita out from under her nose. But it’s not like I begrudge Sarah her success, you know? The fact she didn’t make it to the final is not something I can find solace in."

"Well, you know who else didn’t make it to the finals? Dionysus."

Edith jiggled her eyebrows, as Angelica frowned.

”Dionysus? What has he got to do with anyth-??"

Angelica’s eyes widened.

”Ohhh, I see what you did there! Well yeah, that’s a good point I suppose. But again! Why should I be happy about that? The guy actually seems nice, as opposed to a lot of others! So yes, I am challenging him for the TV title, and yes, the stipulation is going to be super interesting. Like tailor-made for me, AXLY! And now that we’re back in the States, I can use the EW! again!"

"…Angelica, you do realize your submission maneuver was never ACTUALLY illegal, right?"

”Eh, does it matter at this point?"

Edith drank the last from her glass.

"My, this Chardonnay is excellent. Sorry, you were saying?"

”I mean, what can I say about Dionysus? Nothing bad, really. He’s had a tough go of it as of late. Sure, he beat Isaiah King which is totes amazeballz and that alone means he’s worthy of a ton of respect inside the ring. But outside he’s hit a few snags. I heard he’s had some troubles with contractors trying to strong-arm him during the construction of his vineyard. I kinda feel for him, axly! I know how much trouble I had building my ranch, and vineyards are a tad more… delicate, I suppose. With that, and Dolly sending him and their entire team on a wild goose chase… If anything, I’d like to invite him over, come have a taste of our homegrown apple cider, but you know… Who’s going to be interested in that, am I right? All everybody ever wants to see is slander, shade, blood and insults. But that’s like, impossible! Of all the guys in XWF, there are few who I think I could actually be friends with. Dionysus, though? He seems pretty cool."

"Yeah, you’re not exactly selling me this… ‘fight’."

”Oh hush. You know I’m all 100% ‘GO’ once the bell rings! Besides, how silly this whole concept is. ‘Selling a match’. If you like the sport, then you’ll enjoy a good bout, no matter what the motivation is. If you want drama, turn on ‘Days of Our Lives.’"

"Or ‘Keeping Up with the Lacklans.’"

”Or Hell’s Kitchen."

"I always preferred MasterChef."

”Cooking shows give me an inferiority complex, though."

Edith got up from the sofa, and put her glass back on the ‘coffee’ table. She stretched out her lower back, and looked at the expensive watch on her wrist.

33"I have to get going, or I’ll miss my flight. And all I’m saying, Angelica, is if you have nothing bad to say about Dionysus then that’s fine, but you’d better not go into this match thinking he’s one of the good guys."

”But he is!"

"He is. So then just… use your imagination! Give your mother my warmest salutations, I’m terribly sorry I missed her today. Take care now, Angelica!"

”Bye, Edith!"

Angelica’s agent closed the door behind her and left Angelica all alone in the house. Well, not *quite*. Her cats were staring at her, resting in the remnants of the cardboard box that had housed an *actual* cat house. Ser Phyllis of Dra#Cool was hanging upside down in one of the curtains. Karma the Chameleon was changing colors as fast as it could, trying to keep up with the moving screensaver on the PC monitor it had chosen to rest in front of.

Angelica wandered over to her cats and put her hands on her hips, before looking at a cowboy hat that was resting on the dinner table. It actually belonged to her mother, who used it while milking cows, driving around on the lawnmower, picking apples, and whatnot. Angelica tried it on before looking back at her cats who cocked their heads as if they were a pair of owls.

”Hmmmm. Just… ‘imagine’ he’s one of the bad guys, then, eh? I think I can do that!"

---

---

Angelica Vaughn was whistling and humming a song as she strolled along the dirt road on top of her horse, Gary. The old Belgian Draught wasn’t likely to win any races, but was bigger, thicker, and about twice as strong as your regular horse. It was more suited for farm work than for riding across the country, but he had stood by Angelica through many adventures.

”♪♫ I’m a poor, lonesome cowgirl. And a long, long way from home… ♪♫"

Angelica patted Gary’s neck as she saw a sign that read:

Welcome to the town of BERGET Population: 269 316 420 405 313 296 230 171 123

”Good job, boy!"

She adjusted her cowboy hat to keep her eyes out of the sun, and grabbed an oatcake from her satchel, leaning forward to feed it to her big old horse.

As she rode into town at a moderate pace, she noticed the glimpses from the townsfolk. It wasn’t that unsual for strangers to be met with some suspicion, but the body that was bound, gagged, and tied on Gary’s back was probably the real eyecatcher.
As she passed the doctor’s, the undertaker’s, the gunsmith, the general store, the school, and other buildings down the main street, she gave everybody she encountered a friendly greeting, tipping her hat.

”Hey there, mister. Could you be so kind as to point me towards the sheriff’s office, please? I have a bounty to collect."

All she got in response was a grunt and a wave in a general direction, but it would suffice.

”I thank you kindly."

It didn’t take Angelica long to find the sheriff’s office. Outside sat the smallest woman she had ever laid eyes on, cleaning a gun that was almost as big as she was. The woman looked up, and Angelica noticed her deputy badge.

”Howdy, ma’am. Looking for the sheriff."

Angelica’s spurs clinked as she got off her horse and onto the ground while hitching Gary in one smooth movement. But before the woman could respond, the sheriff exited her office. She, too, was small of stature, and wore a rather colorful outfit for a lawwoman. Her bandolier, neck handkerchief and boots were in bright green, and her gun belt, hat, vest and pants were a bright yellow.

Ruby: “Why hello there, stranger. Welcome to the quiet and peaceful town of Berget. Sheriff Debuchy, at your service.”

”Hiya, ma’am. Quiet and peaceful eh? Then why has the population been dwindling in recent history?"

Ruby: “Oh, you saw our sign? It doesn’t look great, I’ll admit, but don’t worry about that. Where are you from, anyway?”

”Around."

Ruby: “Well, not from ‘round here. But that doesn’t matter, I s’pose.”

The sheriff pointed at the ‘cargo’ on the back of Angelica’s horse.

Ruby: “So you’re a bounty hunter, eh? What’ve you got for me?”

”Indeed I am. Come have a look."

The sheriff followed Angelica to Gary’s back, and the bounty hunter lifted up the hood. The sheriff gasped.

Ruby: “Well, kiss my glands and call me a skunk. Doc D’Villiday! They’ve been looking for you from New York to the pueblo of Los Angeles. You’ve done this country a great service, stranger. This scoundrel might call himself a doctor, but they say his words alone are even more toxic than a rattlesnake’s bite.”

”Hence the gag."

Ruby: “People like him give the true, honest people of medicine a bad name. And you managed to bring him in alive, no less! Well, I generally don’t like to see people swing, but for this feller I’ll gladly make an exception. Deputy Pebbles will take him off your hands.”

”And then there’s the matter of my payment? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I was able to bring him to justice, but a girl’s gotta eat."

Ruby: “Naturally! One moment. Pebs, put him in the strongest cell, and don’t let him leave your sight! And above all else, do not remove that gag! His words are poison.”

The tiny enthusiastic deputy sprung to action, but unfortunately she couldn’t even reach the horse’s back.

”Oh, let me get that for you!"

Angelica took the ‘Doctor’ and threw him onto the ground. Pebbles nodded appreciatively and dragged him into the sheriff’s office that connected the town’s jail. Meanwhile, Sheriff Debuchy came back out and handed Angelica a billfold.

Ruby: “Five hundred dollars, the agreed upon bounty for Doc D’Villiday, alive. Just sign off here, and we’re all set! Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do. Because I have an inkling Doc’s friends won’t be so happy when they find out where he is. Say, stranger, I don’t know what your plans are, but you’re welcome to stay in Berget for a while. Spend some of that bounty here.”

”I ain’t much for civilization, but I do need to resupply, take a bath, maybe even sleep in a bed. I’ll check out your local waterhole."

Ruby: “The barkeep’s a bit gruff and shoddy looking, but he’ll get you what you need, if you have the money. Which you do. Maybe I’ll see you around, then!”

With a tip of the hat, Ruby and Pebbles disappeared inside, and Angelica led Gary to the hitching post outside the saloon. As she swung its doors open, the smell of cheap whisky, unwashed corpses, vomit and other ‘bodily fluids’ smacked her in the face like a wet towel.

”Ew."

Angelica made her way to the bar. The saloon was rowdy, but in an almost pleasant manner. People were sat at tables, playing poker or dominoes, and others were telling boastful tales of their exploits in the wild. The barkeep, whose beard could’ve been glorious had it not been so unkempt, nodded as Angelica leaned on his counter.

”Hey there stranger. The name’s Bobby. Bourbon?”

”Please, and thank you."

A shot of bourbon was before her in a moment’s notice, and the barkeep continued cleaning his glasses. Angelica pointed at a flamboyant man seated in the far corner, flanked by a buxom blonde in a purple dress.

”Say, who’s that frizzy-haired feller over there, mister?"

”Him? Oh, he’s the owner of the ‘Lane Claim’, which is what we call the local mine. Berget used to be a mining town, you see? Vinnicent Lane. Richest man you’ll see for many miles. Next to him’s his… well, not his wife, if you catch my drift. Roxanne Cotton. Powerful couple. Teddy Pryce may be mayor, but it’s him who really owns this town.”

”Used to be a mining town? How so?"

”Rumor has it the mine’s drying up. Many people have been leaving.”

”Oh. So that’s why. Say, mister, I am in need of a room and a bath."

”I have a vacancy. Used to be a hotel across the street, until a few weeks ago.”

”What happened?"

”Owner swung. Apparently he’d been taking… ‘liberties’ with some of his guests. We don’t often see people swing in this town, but he got what was coming to him.”

”You might see another one soon. I just handed in a bounty to the sheriff."

”Oh good. It’s been a bit too quiet around here for my liking. Bad for business. My business, at least. No troubles to drink away if there are none, you see? Anyway, we’re currently using the bath to peel our potatoes for the perpetual stew, which you’re welcome to have a bowl of.”

”Later, then. I think I’ll join a game of poker."

She slammed her bourbon, and took her refilled glass to a poker table that had an open seat. Currently dealing was a caramel-skinned woman with braided hair. She seemed friendly enough, even though she was missing two fingers on her left hand.

”Mind if I join you?"

”It’s a free country, stranger. But in here, we play with our weapons on the table.”

Angelica undid her gun belt and put it on the table next to the others. A colt in the main holster, and a sawed-off shotgun off-hand, it seemed to draw a bit of attention.

”That’s quite some firepower, stranger…”

”Call me Angelica."

”A pleasure. They call me Thrice-Fingered Mack. Daughter of Calamity Sid, the esteemed town drunk. If you find an old lady sleeping in a ditch reeking of booze, that’s her. Just step over her.”

”Wait… surely you mean ‘Three-Fingered Mack’?"

”I wish. Long story.”

”All of which took place behind the stagecoach stop, with you and that red-eyed cunt.”

”Shut up, Jackson!”

The odd fellow leaned in towards Angelica.

”They call me Consumption Jackson. On account of…”

”… you having consumption?"

”You’re a clever cunt. But the Natives call me Dances-With-Cunts, on account of me…”

”Are we gonna play poker, or what??”

And so they did. Mack was clearly the big stack bully, much to Jackson’s frustration, who eventually busted out after a few rounds and a few hundred more cry-outs of the C-word. Angelica had enough sense when to fold, but right now she was bluffing after having nothing but a grand total of a pair of two’s after the Turn and raising the stakes.

"You are so full of shit."

”Then call."

Mack’s eyes darted across the table. Angelica could tell she had something decent, but not spectacular. Angelica had been playing conservatively up until now, so Mack thought she’d only go this far if she had a very good hand. Which she didn’t. And with the possibility of a straight flush not out of the question following the Flop and Turn, she seemed anxious.

"Screw it. Fold."


”Thankies!"

Angelica showed her meager pair of two’s that would not have won the round, and raked in her chips. Mack slammed a maimed fist on the table.

"Now girl, if you ain’t the god damn devil."

”Maybe bingo is more suited for a player of your caliber."

Mack’s eyes turned to slits after that quip, but they were soon disrupted as the doors to the saloon swung open, and a large bearded man stepped inside. Everybody’s attention was instantly drawn to him, as he was flanked by half a dozen henchmen.

”BARKEEP! This swill you are serving has seen its best days. From now on, this town shall be held to a higher standard, and it shall answer to me! My name is Dionysus, and this poor old insignificant speck of a town will soon belong to me, as will all of you!”

Many of the patrons didn’t dare to answer. Loudmouth Jackson was passed out drunk, and Mack didn’t really seem to care. Angelica stood up, hanging her gun belt back to her waist in one smooth movement. This put Dionysus and his henchmen on red alert.

”Well, mister, people in this country no longer own others. So I suggest you lower your voice and have a drink in peace like civilized folk, or turn heel and leave. In other terms, how’s about you put the ‘nice’ back in Dionysus, before I put the ‘die’ in Dionysus."

Angelica’s fingers hovered over the holster of her colt. She was certain she could outdraw them, but she was also hopelessly outnumbered, and once bullets flew it was certain to be a bloodbath. Luckily, Dionysus merely smirked.

”A tall blonde carrying a sawn-off shotgun. That Belgian outside belong to you? I’ve heard of you. You’re the bounty hunter who brought in Doc D’Villiday. Your business here ain’t finished, Vaughn. Soon this town will be mine, if I have to buy the ground right from under all of you! You hear me, Lane? Gentlemen, let’s leave.”

The gang turned away and left. The people in the saloon were able to breathe easy again, and Angelica took off her gun belt again as she rejoined the poker table.

"Not smart, provoking a feller like that."

”He was a bit too self-entitled for my tastes. Why is he so obsessed with ‘owning’ this town, n-e-ways? If it’s so poor, old and insignificant? The barkeep said the mine’s one its last legs."

"It is. But the land round here’s some of the most fertile in the county. And its hillsides are perfect for what he wants. See, Dionysus made his fortune brewing and peddling booze. He wants a vineyard, the kind they have in Kentucky and Utah, so he can make wine. There’s big money in that. Lane’s never wanted to sell to him, though. Seems like he’s only gotten more aggressive."

”Huh… And the sheriff…?"

"Powerless. Technically, he hasn’t done anything wrong except being rude."

”Reason enough for me!"

At that point, someone tapped Angelica on the shoulder. She turned around to see a woman in a costume, holding out a familiar badge.

”Excuse me, ma’am, I overheard a few things. Vita Valenteen, Pink Misterton Detective Agency, Chicago. Mind if I ask you a few questions about the bounty you just brought in?”