NEW FAN FICTION! NOW WITH SEX SCENES AND ALSO BOARS (no boar sex scenes, though)
DIRTY DAN PISTER MEETS PIG JOSH AND THE FAT MEXICAN
Bang. A small cloud of sand erupted from the ground where the bullet struck.
Another bang, and another small cloud.
"What in the hell are you doing?" "Shooting ants," replyed Dirty Dan Pister.
Following his recent entanglement with 'Dead Moose' Baley, Dirty Dan had decided to try honest, gainful employment again. However, guarding these oil derricks wasn't that exciting, and the slow, unceasing clank of the pumpjacks was driving him over the edge.
"Well, you've earned your daily dollar. You head on back to Armadillo when you're ready to go."
The foreman left. Dan raised his pistol and fired a final shot. The bullet entered the unfortunate ant's rectum and would have exploded out its mouth had the ant not been disintegrated by the impact. Dan stood up, reloading and holstering his gun. He strode over to the storage tanks, where a tanker truck was filling up with oil. It'd drop him off in Armadillo while it was unloading its cargo at the train station.
"Aaaah… oooh… eeeh… aaaah"
Dan merely grunted in response.
"Aaah… Yo--- aaaaah… eee… f… our…. olllars… aaah… extrra!," stammered out the prostitute as Dan's thick, veiny cock hammered into her ass. Sweat poured down his face as he let out a deep, guttural snarl and rammed his manhood in up to the spuds. The prostitute felt a huge, hot torrent erupt deep in her bowel.
Dan withdrew with an audible glop. Casually wiping his cock on the drapes, he dressed, smoothed his moustache and laid five dollars on the nightstand. The prostitute still lay bent forward and bug-eyed, hindquarters in the air as thick grey semen issued from her twitching anus.
Emerging from the bedrooms, he walked down the stairs into the main area of the Armadillo saloon and sat at an empty table.
Several shots of whiskey later, a bald, gross man with an enormous dirty beard entered the room. Shirtless, exposing a flabby but powerful and hairy torso. Sticks of dynamite were tucked into his gunbelt. Two more were strapped to the sides of his head. Behind him followed a short, portly Mexican in a tattered sombrero and dusty clothes. A thick layer of filth coated every inch of him, and two beady eyes peered beneath bushy eyebrowns and above an even bushier moustache.
Spotting Dan, the fat shirtless man clomped over to his table.
"Dirty Dan," he burbled. "Well well, if it isn't Pig Josh. Pull up a chair."
Pig Josh sat down heavily, and gestured to his unwashed companion to join them.
"This here is Antonio, the Fat Mexican," said Pig Josh, brushing unimaginable grime out of his beard. "We got a business proposition for you."
"Honest or otherwse?," Dan asked.
Pig Josh merely belched throatily in response. Antonio the Fat Mexican didn't say a word. On the balcony above, a prostitute helped steady Dan's last conquest as she walked, bow legged, down the stairs and out to the general store for some ointment.
"Plan is we go raidin' along the river," said Pig Josh at last. "They won't be expectin' it, and if it all goes wrong we can just go back onto the US side."
"Wait, raiding Mexico?," asked Dan.
"Yup, the Fat Mexican here done scouted out some camps and settlements along the way, we go down and rob 'em before they knew what hit 'em."
The Fat Mexican merely swigged from his tequila bottle. Dan was having trouble seeing the man's eyes.
"How we gonna get down the river? I don't have a boat," said Dan.
"Neither do I," said Josh, "we'll need to buy one. I know an outlaw down in Thieves Landing, he can fix us up with one."
"And how are we gonna pay this feller?"
"We… er. Ah. We're gonna need to make some money."
Dan stood to leave.
"Sorry Josh," he said, "guardin' oil fields won't pay for no boat until I'm at least 200 years old. This isn't gonna work unless we get money faster."
The Fat Mexican whispered furiously in Pig Josh's encrusted ear. Josh grinned.
"Our associate here reminds me you still have access to a huntin' cabin. Fur and meat will pay pretty good."
"I'm not keen on ever going back there after what happened last time," sighed Dan.
"Quit bellyaching," Josh snapped, "you want to spent the rest of your life guarding oil, you ain't the real Dirty Dan Pister."
A few minutes later and Dan, together with Pig Josh and The Fat Mexican, emerged from the saloon. Dan downed the last of his bottle, hurled it into the dust of the street and for no reason punched a nearby cowpoke's lights out.
"Mount up," said Dan.
Josh mounted his horse and called, "Follow me!"
"Hee-yaahhh, Winking Anus, let's go" shouted Josh and the three men galloped out of town.
-----
Dan sat, cleaning his pistol. They'd found good hunting grounds not far from the cabin, rich with bears and wild boar.
Nearby, the Fat Mexican leapt from a bush at a passing boar, blasting its face off with both barrels of his shotgun. Another boar ran to avenge its mate but was met with a huge, hairy fist to the side of its head that crushed its skull instantly. Pig Josh straightened and kissed his meaty knuckles affectionately.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dan caught sight of the loping shape of a bear. Lurching to his feet he called to his companions: "BEAR!"
In the blink of an eye, the Fat Mexican produced a tomahawk and hurled it. The heavy weapon embedded itself in the bear's forehead and the mighty beast crumbled to the ground with a low moan. Nearby, pig-like squealing could be heard. Pig Josh grinned, cracked his knuckles and raced off in pursuit.
Dan helped the Fat Mexican skin the bear and load its heavy hide into the back of their 'borrowed' wagon. A boar raced past, followed closely by Pig Josh who was landing heavy blows on its flanks. Dan nodded to the Fat Mexican, who grinned back but remained otherwise inscrutable.
Several loud thumps later and Pig Josh returned with the comatose boar slung over his shoulders like a mink stole. As he neared the wagon, the boar regained consciousness and began to struggle. Josh swung it downwards by the hind legs, its head colliding severely with the side of the wagon. A crunch was heard and the boar was still, its head twisted at an awkward angle. Josh easily hefted it up into the wagon atop the pile of carcasses.
"I reckon we've got enough."
----
Sickly clouds of fog rolled past as the wagon stopped outside a warehouse on the waterfront in Thieves' Landing. Electric lights swung in the gloom, their glow barely cutting through. Josh jumped down and pounded on the door.
"Who's there?" a monotone voice answered.
"It's me, let me in!," bellowed Josh.
Half a dozen locks were released and the doors swung wide to admit the wagon.
Inside, Dan climbed down to see a large bearded man. He was bald, had twin braids in his beard and… was the spitting image of Pig Josh.
"What… what's your name, friend?" asked Dan curiously.
"This here's my brother, Boring Josh," responded Pig Josh.
"Hello," droned Boring Josh.
"We all set?" asked Pig Josh.
"He is in the back," his brother answered flatly.
A muscular, wild-eyed man emerged from the office. He began cackling with delight and scurried over towards his new guests. He was clad in a very heavy coat and a metal helmet with a sloped back. Dan surveyed him skeptically.
"You're here, you're here, come right this way please!," the man stammered out between giggles. He led them towards the far end of the warehouse, where another set of large doors opened out onto docks and the river.
"So where's this bo… huh?," said Dan. He turned to see the strange man, now almost deranged with giggly delight, furiously stroking the wagon horse's nose. He skipped around behind, pulled out a stick of TNT and rammed it forcefully up the horse's anus. The horse whinnied in shock, as the man pulled out a match and lit the fuse.
"Hee hee! HEE HEE HEE!," he enthused as he ran clear. With a mighty explosion the horse exploded into chunks, hurling pieces of red dripping meat in all directions.
"What in the hell?" shouted Dan as the man rejoined them, grinning from ear to ear.
"This is our outlaw fella," said Pig Josh, "The Horse Exploding Fireman."
"Hello! Hee hee!," chuckled the man, before dashing off onto the docks.
"He was in a fire department out east until they fired him for blowing up the department horses. He came out here to escape the law," whispered Josh.
Out on the docks, The Horse Exploding Fireman presented them with a makeshift raft… old planks and barrels nailed together. A large mast of sorts pointed to a previous life as a ferry somewhere.
"That's it?," demanded Pig Josh.
"Not fur season yet!," responded The Horse Exploding Fireman, "no demand, prices low."
Boring Josh emerged from the warehouse with some crates of ammunition began loading them onto the raft.
-----
"This is a terrible idea." grumbled Dirty Dan Pister.
The raft drifted slowly downstream. Pig Josh steered using a makeshift rudder. The Fat Mexican sat idling picking at his fingernails with a long hunting knife.
"You got anything better in your oil pipeline?," laughed Pig Josh. Dan walked over to him.
"Hell yes, I do, I got plenty of ideas to make me rich."
He fished in a pocket, and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.
"I figure, city folks out east with too much money'll buy any 'ole dumb thing these days, if you market it as a modern con-veen-ee-ence. Lookit them automatic clothes wringin' machines."
Pig Josh produced a strip of beef jerky from somewhere and took a bite.
"Now, thinka this," continued Dan, "You go to a baseball game, you gonna get hungry. They already figured that out. But you like having 20 no good sumbitches touchin' your food as they pass it down to your seat? That's why I come up with this!"
He waved the paper at Pig Josh.
"I got the idea from watchin' them nodding donkeys working. It throws the food to the customer, they catch it, no problem. No passin' on typhoid or nothing with nobody else touchin' it. I call it… Dirty Dan Pister's Electric Sandwich Ballista."
Pig Josh chewed thoughtfully on the jerky for a moment.
"What's a ballista?," he queried.
"Like a big bow n' arrow."
The Fat Mexican leapt to his feet and pointed.
"Peligro!" he called.
Another raft was approaching. Angry men shouted and waved guns.
"What'll we do?," shouted Dan.
Pig Josh was leaning hard on the rudder. "No good, darn current's picking up and it's pulling us toward them."
Off to the starboard side, the other raft was pulling up its anchor and beginning to move. Carried by the current, it picked up speed and it was soon almost alongside.
"Hey now," Dan called to the other raft's occupants, "ain't no reason for.."
A knife flashed towards him. Dan instinctively leapt to avoid it, and his momentum instantly hurled him into the air and over the side of the raft.
"Ay chihuahua!," called the Fat Mexican. Pig Josh pulled out his Winchester and fired. A massive explosion rocked the other raft, knocking Pig Josh and The Fat Mexican over.
Dirty Dan paddled up to the side of the raft and pulled himself back aboard.
"What in the hell happened?," he growled.
"Durn fools," grinned Josh, "had a box of TNT on their raft."
Josh bent over and helped Dan to his feet.
"You ain't as smart as you think. You don't even understand Campbellian physics."
"What?" spluttered Dan, before coughing up more water.
"My brother told me 'bout a book he's reading on it. That's why you flew into the air the moment your feet left the raft, and why your food flinger machine won't work."
Dan just coughed and groaned.
-----
Before long, the first bandit camp came into view, just as the Fat Mexican had marked on their map. Straining on the rudder, Fat Josh managed to bring them into the shallows by the dock. The bandits, not expecting an assault from the river, were taken by surprise.
Pig Josh, Dirty Dan and the Fat Mexican all opened fire. Those bandits who stood still were shot, the rest recovered from their surprise and scrambled up the riverbank.
The Fat Mexican leapt into the water and waded ashore.
"Andale!," he called as Dan and Josh joined him. On the shore, the Fat Mexican immediately raced up the riverbank in hot pursuit As he crested the top of the slope, a shot rang out. He gurgled and fell, sliding back down the slope to a stop at Dan and Josh's feet.
"Mother Macree! He dead?," exclaimed Dan.
Josh produced a large syringe, and jabbed it hard into the Fat Mexican's right buttock. The Fat Mexican surged back to life immediately.
"Nah, just winged 'im," replied Josh, "Now, let's go get those bastards."
-----
Twenty minutes later, and the three would-be raiders drifted downriver on their raft, laden with loot.
"So far so good," said Josh, his grin abruptly turning into a grimace.
"You hurt?," asked Dan.
"Nah," replied Josh, the pain seeming to fade, "just got me a strangulated piss pipe. Long story. Acts up now and then."
A bullet sizzled through the air. The three men all looked anxiously around. Suddenly an army of bandits appeared on the riverbank. More were seen galloping in on horsebank from both directions.
"Ambush!," shouted Dan, taking cover behind a crate.
"God damn it all," growled Josh, taking careful aim and shooting a bandito through the nostril.
More and more bullets whizzed past as more bandits joined the assault.
"We're sitting ducks on this plank!," Dan complained.
At that moment, a bullet whizzed past Pig Josh's head. The hot lead sizzled against the fuse of the TNT strapped there, and it began to smoulder. Firing off another volley, Josh ducked back down.
"Don't worry boys, I've got a great idea… what?"
Dan was frozen in terror at the lit TNT strapped to Josh's head.
-----
A pleasant, warm darkness gave way to a loud, surging coldness. Dan regained consciousness and realized he was underwater. Struggling hard, he gave a strong kick towards the surface. Breaking into the air, his legs struck something hard. Land! Gasping, he pulled himself out of the river. They'd washed up on shore, but the river had nearly just pulled him back in.
Twice in one day wasn't nice at all. Dan coughed and spat, and got to his feet. Nearby lay the bulk of Pig Josh. Face buried in his crotch was the Fat Mexican, his broad sombrero still in place, cemented there by weeks of accumulated sweat and grease.
"Josh!," shouted Dan, stumbling over to him. With great effort he rolled the beefy man onto his back. Josh groaned, the noise also seeming to rouse the Fat Mexican.
"What in the hell happened?," asked Dan.
"We got blowed up," Josh answered, sitting up. "Blowed up real good."
The three bedraggled men got up and began picking their way up the shoreline. To their immense relief they found a wooden fence surrounding a small homestead. A sign was afixed to one of the posts.
"Where are we?," wondered Josh.
"Well, it's in English, we're on the right side," said Dan, examining the sign. "Rob Jonson's Diseased Cat Farm."
They raised an eyebrow at each other and made their way toward the house. In pens and in fields, dozens of unkempt, yowling cats staggered around. Some dragged their hindquarters along the ground, others hissed and spat before twitching and losing their balance.
A jolly man emerged from the house as they approached.
"Good day, gentlemen, good day. What can I get for you today? Can I interest you in a diseased cat? I have one with a shit-encrusted ass, just arrived this morning."
"No thanks, Mister, uh Jonson," said Pig Josh.
"No problem!," said Rob Jonson, before his face and mood darkened substantially.
"How about the farm itself?," he asked in a resigned tone. "I only bought it this morning and I'm sick of it already."
"Much obliged but no thanks, again," said Dan, "we're just passing through trying to… wait a minute."
Dan looked at Josh. A realization dawned on them simultaneously, and they both whistled.
Pig Josh's horse appeared over a nearby hill, followed by Dan and the Fat Mexican's horses.
"Winking Anus! Attaboy!," declared Josh, pulling himself up into the saddle. The horse's back bowed slightly under his bulk but remained upright.
"I need me a drink," said Dan.
"Me too," Josh agreed.
With that, the three men galloped off into the distance. Rob Jonson watched them go, then sighed and, putting on his oven gloves, reached for a nearby cat.
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