Kassini. Time always seemed to move slower round here. Maybe that’s why it’s barely changed in five years.
There’s a new hat saloon in town. Back in my day, you had to get your hats and your whiskey at two distinct locations. Guess the young’uns don’t have time for that anymore. Maybe I’m just gettin’ on in years. I guess I just don’t “get” Snapchat.
I paid my respects to Paw and exchanged pleasantries with the local color. Nat White’s still around, also still the worst sheriff I’ve ever laid eyes. The man’s dull as dishwater. He couldn’t teach a hen to cluck. His brainpan wouldn’t make a drinkin’ cup for a canary. What I’m tryin’ to say is Nat White might be legally retarded. Well, a town needs a sheriff, I suppose.
Something wasn’t quite right around these parts. Folks were going missing left and right. Reminded me in a strange way of how we found Belle, on the outskirts of town, broken into pieces. Not gonna lie, makes this old cowboy wanna hurl, it was pretty gross.
Whatever it is that got Belle seems to have come back. It came in the night and took the sheriff. No big loss there, but I was set to find Belle’s killer. I owed it to Belle, but also to myself.
Just as the trail was gettin’ warm, the sand opened up. Zerglins poured out faster than Boxer doing a nine-pool. We did what we could, but the best of that was rounding up the townsfolk and skedaddling. The last thing I saw was my home going up in a ball of fire.
Paw always said, if you run from your past, you’ll just be tired when it catches up. Well Paw, I ain’t runnin’. This time I got a horse.