The Magnificent Seven Theme Song

Inspired by "The Magnificent Seven" Theme Song

The dust moved like a dancing Esmeralda when the drifter rolled into town. On the side of the road, the drifter noticed a neighborhood with an interesting church. As he would later describe it:

It was a small town almost separate from the rest of the place. A sign near the road said "Golden Springs". The town had a river running through it, a lovely Parisian stone bridge over it and a church steeple that reminded me of a Romanesque pilgrimage church. Walls were more numerous than windows, and images of the Savior judging the world looking authoritarian and condescending-as if he were intent on destroying the world instead of trying to save it. One of those weird interpretation ultra God fearing Puritan towns I guess.

This drifter on his horse, carried the reins in one hand, a Silverboy Lever-Action Rifle on his back, and two Cattleman .22 Revolvers. He wore a tightly woven straw sombrero, showing his simplistic nature. A red and blue fabric, which was the most expensive piece of clothing on his person, was woven in three bands a zigzag pattern along the brim which was pointed upwards. Red on top, blue in the middle, and red on the bottom. His pants were red charro and had a hole on the right leg from where a thorn bush up the road had snagged and ripped the seam a little. A short bolero jacket with gold accents was in the best shape as far as clothing goes. It was a pristine dark maroon looking as if he had just gotten it cleaned and pressed. Handcrafted silver spurs, which were attached firmly to the bottom of his feet, for he did not wear any sort of shoe (because he didn't need to, his species did not require it). These spurs were bloody a bit, as if he had performed a lambaste against a creature that tried to attack him (most likely while he was on his horse and most likely the creature was a wolf but debate is still going on about this). He also carried a lasso.

He rode into town, to the nearest bar, which was a small wooden building painted blue, white, and had a look of a hotel rather than a bar. The hotel, which was down the road a bit, in the same manner, was green and brown, and had a look of a bar rather than a hotel. The bar's name was "Sorrow of the Raven". The drifter would write of this also:

I noticed the saloon was rather ragged, a bit rough around the edges. The place was called 'Sorrow of the Raven', but it looked like it belonged in a small Baptist town along the Mississippi and not the middle of the arid Sonoran Desert. An old man with a brown waistcoat with a lapel wearing a white button up Sunday best shirt and pants smoking tobacco sat in a rocking chair on the porch. This porch was wide and could probably fit a nice gambling table if somebody really wanted to. The man looked up at me as I got off my horse, Martinez, put him on the hitching post outside and walked towards the door. His eyes were white, and he purposefully blew smoke in my face. I coughed a bit...

"Who are you supposed to be?" He asked him.

The drifter looked over to him, and as if he didn't hear the man's question replied, "Pardon?"

"You heard me," the man said, "who are you stranger?"

"Panchito." The drifter said.

"You're not from here are you?" The old man said with skeptical eyes, looking at Panchito as if he didn't trust him. To be honest, if you were looking at a talking rooster, you wouldn't be so trusting either.

"What's your name Senor?" Panchito asked, wanting to change the subject, and hoping that the man would lighten up a bit after introductions.

"Warren Beatty." The man said. Panchito extended his hand, Warren reluctantly shook it.

"Why are you here Panchito?" Warren asked.

"Just passing through," Panchito replied, "well so long." He said with a smile and a wave as he entered the bar.

The place was musty, it had the smell of fresh cut wood and beer draft. Men in blue collar working class uniform stood drinking their sorrows in beer glasses. The rooster walked over to the bar, sitting next to a rough bearded gentleman by the name of Santiago, who was from Mexico, he had a deep accent.

"Hey barkeep!" Santiago called, raising his hand, "one for the road."

The barkeep, whose name was John Raven, proprietor of this establishment, gave the man his 'one for the road' beer. Panchito pulled out a paso and slammed it on the counter. "Excuse me," the rooster said to John who looked over, "but I would like a water please."

John nodded and quickly gave him one. Panchito noticed that John looked jittery, as if he were afraid of everything. "Here you go sir." John said, twiddling his thumbs nervously as Panchito drank the water. The rooster noticed this and said:

"Why are you looking at me as if I'm going to matarte?" Panchito asked.

John looked at Santiago who translated, "He said that he's going to kill you."

"What?" Panchito said, "no I didn't." He looked at Santiago who was too busy drinking his beer (for always drank it slowly), "You're a terrible translator."

Santiago smiled as he placed his glass on the counter. John still stood there nervously:

"P-p-p-p-please," he said looking at the rooster, "I don't want any trouble."

"I'm not going to hurt you Senor..." Panchito said, searching for a name.

"J-J-J-John."

The rooster nodded, "Senor John, I'm not going to hurt you alright, I just need some water for my horse, is there a trough nearby?"

John nodded, "Out back."

"Gracias." Panchito said and exited the bar.

Looking around, Panchito could not see his horse where he put him, instead, he saw him running off with a woman in a blue dress screaming her head off:

HEELPP!

Panchito couldn't make out the facial features but decided to help anyway, it was his horse after all. He laughed a bit as he ran after his horse.

Martinez took a right, Panchito took a right, Martinez took a left, Panchito followed. It carried on like this for several minutes. Ten minutes to be exact, with this woman screaming the same thing over and over, as if she were Bugs Bunny at the end of Falling Hare: "Ah, a eee-a oh!"

A local man who owned the music store saw the commotion and played the most appropriate record he had, placing it on the turntable. The Theme to The Magnificent Seven, which is without argument one of the best pieces of western themed music (in the United States culture that is) to ever be produced.

Panchito pulled out his lasso and ran as fast as his feet could carry him. Martinez was gathering a bit of dust as he began to run across some rocks. It was starting to play out like a Willie Coyote/Road Runner cartoon. The woman was screaming still, her hair a mess, her dress torn and dirty, and her face full of fear, hoping that the horse wouldn't piss on her face. The rooster nonetheless was still running, lasso in hand.

Martinez ran into a cactus field.

"Martinez!" Panchito called, seeing if he would stop. The rooster had to stop a moment and catch his breath. Noticing that his horse was still going, Panchito sighed and started running again. As he weaved through the cactus field, keeping his eye on Martinez and the woman, he heard the sound of another horse.

Santiago was following him, drinking a bottle of whiskey. His horse, whose name was Diablo, was fittingly large, black, and agile as it moved like a coyote through the cactus field. Santiago pulled his horse in front of Panchito who instinctively got on in a single motion and they rode off toward Martinez.

At the end of this cactus field was a little ravine. This little ravine was an understatement. It was a large canyon that had a steep drop off and Panchito's horse was foolishly running towards it like a stampeding herd.

"Hombre!" Santiago said to the rooster, "is your horse stupid?"

"Si, he's a dolt but he's a good boy, he's just, well, special." Panchito said.

"You got that right," Santiago said and pushed Diablo harder.

The dust and the heat was pushing up against them as the sun went to its midday height. The woman was still screaming. Santiago pulled Diablo next to Martinez now. As Panchito prepared himself to jump, he got a good look at the woman's face. First off, this woman was a hen. Her name was Clara Cluck. You might say Cupid's Arrow hit.

"You better jump now before he hits the ravine!" Santiago warned. He was right though, Martinez was only fifty yards from it, so Panchito had little time to sit and play creepy admirer. The rooster jumped onto his horse and reared him. Martinez put his front legs in the air and stopped. This caused Clara to go under the horse due from friction not working on her forward motion yet. Luckily Panchito saw this and grabbed Clara by the strap that was keeping her tied to the horse. Apparently she had gotten caught in one of the saddle foot straps and her presence scared Martinez so much that he untied his rope and ran off. The reason Panchito didn't hear any of it was because the rooster was too busy talking to Santiago about his mistranslation.

Martinez calmed down, Panchito petted him. Clara brushed herself off and stood up right. "Well," she said, "I say that is a fine horse you got there."

"Yeah," Panchito said, "he's a screwball." Martinez huffed a bit.

Clara turned towards him, for her back was turned and gazed upon his face. She smiled, "Thanks for the save." She said sweetly. Panchito removed his sombrero and in a very ham like way bowed. "It's no trouble, besides, I wouldn't have done it without-" the rooster started to say when he began to look around for Santiago. The Mexican was no longer there.

"Oh well," Clara said, "I can thank him later. I know who he is and see him around often. You however, you're new aren't you?"

Panchito nodded, "Si Senora-"

"Clara." The hen replied.

"What a beautiful name." Panchito said hinting a romantic suave to his voice. "To answer your question, yes I'm just passing through."

"Where are you headed?" Clara asked.

"Simpsonville." The rooster said, "I have an uncle who owns a ranch there, he told me to come down to solve a problem of his. Cattle thief or something."

"I see," Clara said, "boy it's hot out here, mind giving me a lift back to town?" She asked.

Panchito got off his horse and in a coachman like way, invited her to his horse. Clara took the reins this time and Panchito got on the back.

"Now go easy on him, he's had a rough day." Panchito advised.

"Rough day! I've had a rough day young man," Clara said as she tightly held the reins and moved Martinez back in the direction of town. "I want payback."

"I wouldn't do that if I was you," Panchito warned. "He gets a bit testy when he's pushed too hard-"

"Bullshit." Clara said as she bucked Martinez and sped through the cactus field towards town.

Panchito held on for dear life, quite literally as Clara rode like the Lone Ranger but was teetering on the dangerous side of direction. She purposefully almost ran into cactus, causing Panchito to jump over them and maneuver as if he were an acrobat in a circus, but luckily, the rooster always landed safely on the back of his horse. Martinez was bit freaked out too, it wasn't the fact that a woman was driving. It was the fact that a woman was driving him almost to his death. If he could speak, Martinez would be saying something like this:

I did not sign up for this! Panchito, get this woman off me, she's going to kill us both!

As if the rooster could tell on what Martinez was thinking, he replied, "Look at where," he flipped over a cactus, "I'm standing!"

Clara turned back around and noticed that Panchito was standing behind her after successfully jumping over that cactus. She smiled, "You look handsome with the dirt on your face."

Panchito smiled, "Yeah well you need to watch the road sweetheart," he looked out in front himself, his eyes growing a bit wide, "because we're about to hit the bar!"

Clara turned around quickly and pulled on Martinez's reins. The horse thankfully stopped inches away from the bar wall. Panchito got off quickly and examined his horse. Martinez's eyes were big and he was panting like a racing dog but at least he saw the trough full of water. He walked towards it and drank, thankful to be resting. Clara got off the horse.

"Well," she said, meeting Panchito again, "I guess you can lead a horse to water and make him drink."

"I guess so, if you scare him half to death!" Panchito said in his horse's defense. "Why were you being dragged by him anyway?"

"I was just looking at him, thinking on how pretty he is, felt the metal of the foot straps to see how it was made, for my father is the town silversmith so I have a knack for those sorts of things and he just got scared and took off." Clara said.

Panchito nodded, "Yeah well, like I said, he gets testy."

"No shit." Clara said as she walked down the street.

"You know you have an awfully dirty mouth for someone who just got dragged about a mile and a half." Panchito said. "You ought to clean it out with some soap."

"My mouth got dirty during the ride mister," Clara replied smiling, "by the way, I told you my name, but you didn't tell me yours."

The rooster walked over to her in a casual but superficial walk as if he were stepping to Staying Alive. He smiled a bit, again as if a second arrow from Cupid hit. " Panchito Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González III." He said this slowly and in a seductive manner, almost as if he were in a nineteen seventies porn film. For the first time in his life, Panchito felt madly in love.

"You know," Panchito said, stilling smiling, "your eyes are simply gorgeous."

Clara smiled and laughed a bit, "That was the most corny pick up line I've ever heard Mr. Gonzales."

Panchito nodded a bit, "Makes sense."

"Why is that?" Cara asked.

"Had corn for breakfast." Panchito answered.

"Well," Clara said, "it's been nice meeting you Panchito, I'll be getting home now."

"Want me to walk you?" Panchito asked.

"No thanks," Clara said "it's just around the corner anyway."

Panchito stood there and watched her walk away, he sighed, noticing the way the hen moved her hips, her tail feathers, and bobbed her head as if music were playing. She turned the corner and disappeared.

Laughing.

Panchito looked over and saw that Warren Beatty was laughing his head off.

"What's so funny?" Panchito asked, walking over to the old man. "You," Warren replied, "you really think you can win her over?"

"I think so." Panchito said, "Why, is she taken already?"

"Yes sir, by Mr. Américo Vespucci."

"Américo!" Panchito cried with excitement. He knew the name well. "He and I used to be pals back home in Mexico, he's a good fellow. Well, I'm glad he settled down."

"Aren't you going to try and challenge him?" Warren asked a bit confused.

"No, Américo is my amigo," Panchito said, "besides, she looks pretty happy and content with herself. If he goes with me then she'll just be alone , living on the road."

"You don't have a roof over your head or a family to go to?" Warren asked.

"None senor," Panchito said, "I live the life of a traveler, a lone wolf, the wind and stars are my consul and my horse is my closest companion."

"Well, looks like your closest companion just got done drinking his water and is now off to ride the sunset." Warren said with a laugh.

Panchito turned around and saw Martinez run down the street, he was testing his owner's patience just to see his reaction. Panchito knew this and just as he ran into the street, he saw Clara jump on top of Martinez in one motion and reared the horse to a stop. Panchito smiled and rushed over.

"You're a fast learner." He said.

"Do yourself a favor," Clara said, "train your horse."

Panchito laughed as Clara got off Martinez and had in her a package. "Since you're going to Simpsonville anyway, mind delivering this package to my brother, he lives in Brownstown just three miles from there."

Panchito smiled and gladly took the package. "Of course, I'd be happy to, want me to send a message along too?" He asked as he got on Martinez and forced him under his control.

"I think he'll figure it out Panchito." Clara said as he walked back home once again.

Panchito smiled and sighed thinking to himself how lucky he is to have met her, but realized that she was married. Panchito shrugged his shoulders and looked at the package. On top was a taped note, it had Panchito's name on it.

Panchito removed the letter and read it:

To Panchito,

Américo, my husband has been killed. My brother is the sheriff in Brownstown, I don't know who the killer is but he must've done it while we had our little adventure with your horse. I know he was your friend, but your friend is dead and the killer is out there somewhere. He left a note over here saying that he'll come and do it again. I think I'm next. Kill this bastard before he does something else.

Please Panchito, I know we just met and all, but you're the only one I can trust.

If you need to you can come over and look at what this guy did, but then you must hurry. I'm not looking forward to the end result of this, it looks pretty dangerous, but you seem capable.

-Clara

Panchito closed the letter, folded it and put it in his pocket. He then heard a scream from down the street. Panchito held on to Martinez's reins and bucked the horse toward the distress.

Clara was on the ground, bleeding and hurt. "He went that way!"

Panchito looked down the direction she was pointing and saw a man in black running away. Panchito bucked Martinez again and quickly noticed that his adrenaline was through the roof. His heart was going a million miles a minute. His mind was completely focused on one goal. Tackle and interrogation of this running man in black.

Panchito pushed Martinez harder and harder, getting closer and closer to the running man. The man running looked over his shoulder and saw this horse, who was raging mad and a rooster who was even madder. The man came across an alley and took a sharp right. Martinez instinctively followed him. The man crossed the river. Martinez stopped in the river bank.

Panchito pulled out one of his Cattleman .22 Revolvers. He aims the pistol at the man who was too busy swimming to notice the rooster anyway. Panchito slowly took a deep breath, closed his right eye, for he was left eye dominant and shot the poor soul. Panchito then lead his horse across the bridge to the other side, got off Martinez and dragged the dead body to the bank.

Turning the body over Panchito recognized the face, "Santiago?"

"That's right Panchito." A gun clicked.

Panchito looked up from Santiago's body and saw Warren Beatty, holding a Sharps Single-Shot Breech-Loading Carbine rifle. Safety off, accurate aim.

"What are you going to do Senor Warren?" Panchito said slowly standing and glaring at the man.

"I'm sorry, but I can't have you interfering with our plan." Warren said.

Clara ran towards the bridge, a look of worry on her face and tears in her eyes. "Warren! Don't do it, don't shoot him!"

Warren turned, aimed the carbine and was two seconds from firing when two bullets rang off.

Panchito's pistols were smoking. Warren looked down, noticed the bullets and fell to the ground. Panchito walked over and pushed him to the river.

Clara met up with him and they embraced. "Come on," Panchito said, "let's get you to Brownstown, you'll be safe there."

Panchito whistled for Martinez to come over, the horse did so and for the first time today listened as Panchito took the reins, Clara behind him, holding him close and they very expectedly rode into...a cactus field.