Title: Red Dead Redemption
Rating: M
Author: BoneBanditKonner
Summary: Kenny is thrown into the world of Red Dead Redemption.
Genre: Western, Video game crossover
Fandom: South Park
A/N: I got the idea after playing Red Dead Redemption for 4 hours. Feel free to applaud!
Kenny McCromick walked the streets of Armadillo, and someone called out his name. "Mr. McCromick! I bet you can't hunt as many ducks as I can! Meet me down at the docks in a day! Or I'll consider you a coward!" the strange old man said.
"How about we duel and if I win, I don't, if you win, I'll go down there with you. Disarm the opponent, no killing." Kenny said to him.
"Fine, you sack of shit!" the old man said.
The pair drew their revolvers at the same time, but Kenny got his shot off first. The old man's bullet curved to the side and came straight at Kenny's arm. They were both disarmed, but Kenny went over to the old man and said, "What's your name, friend?"
"Smithy, and that's all you need to know." Smithy said. "Actually, I need to learn that bullet you fired, how the hell did you made it go in that kind of arc?" Kenny asked, dying to know how that kind of bullet was fired.
"Alright, you senseless maggot, I'll teach you. You just try and kept up with how fast it I teach, it takes a while to master it, so I'll be giving you a crash course." Smithy said, quickly, still holding his hand.
After Smithy got better after a few minutes, he looked at Kenny and taught him how to curve the bullet, which will distract the opponent, so you can get another shot off. The curved bullet didn't pack much power, so it essential that you get a straight shot off after you shoot the first one.
"Just put the gun, with the handle facing outward, to your opposite side from your right hand, assuming your right handed, Mr. McCromick?" Smithy asked. "Yea, most people are, out here, Smithy."
"Just whip it out like that and fire just as you take it out, and then whip it to where you can fire another shot. A straight shot." Smithy explained, "Alright, you go over there and show me what you've learned, Mr. McCromick."
Kenny did as he was told and shot Smithy in the stomach, while the curved bullet disarmed him. Kenny took Smithy to the hospital and Smithy gave him his repeater and his revolver. "Once I recover, Mr. McCromick, I'll show you how to fight." Smithy said, throwing mock punches at the ceiling of the hospital. "You do that, Smithy and I'll go duck hunting with you once you recover, too. Thanks for teaching me that bullet; I'll be sure to use it."
"Kid, there's a place by the border of Mexico, called Old Bronco. Go there and talk to Jonathon, he'll give you something nice. Then talk to Sheriff Wilson, he's got a few things that have to be done. Take him this package, say it's from Smithy and that he found it with the suspect. Go on, now, get!"
Kenny got onto horse, whose name was Trigger, and round to the Mexican border. He looked along the Mexican border for a few hours before he found Old Bronco.
He talked to the Jonathon man, who then challenged him to a duel.
"I' not going to duel you." Kenny said, having faced too many people with strange urges today. "Then I'll fight you!" Jonathon said.
John got into a fighting stance and lunged at Kenny, Kenny leaned one way and John flew right past him. Kenny went and got on top of John and pummeled him and interrogated him.
"Smithy told me you had something for me!" This made John stop struggling. "I've got a shotgun for you Mister. This will help you save Old Bronco; now let me up!" John said, struggling again. Kenny let John up and John gave him his shotgun and told him the way to the sheriff's office.
Kenny went to the sheriff's office to find the cells full and the sheriff struggling with a telephone.
"This dang son of a bitch! I can't figure this new fangled shit out!" the sheriff cried.
"Me neither, Sheriff." Kenny said, walking into the office. "Who in the name of God, are you?" Sheriff Wilson asked.
"I'm Kenny McCromick; I got a package for you from Smithy. He said something about it being for a suspect." Kenny said holding out the package. The Sheriff took it gladly and gave to a deputy, who had suddenly been there.
"Mr. McCromick, welcome to Old Bronco!" the Sheriff said. "I don't plan on staying long; I got to get back to my family." Kenny said.
"You have family?" Wilson asked, politely.
"Yes, sir, my wife, Wendy, my son, John, but we call him Jack. My uncle Mark and a dog, Rufus. That's all that live up at my farm. It's in Tall Trees, by Blackwater, ever been there, Sheriff?" asked Kenny, knowing full well the answer. He had seen this sheriff before. He was a drunken one that hung out with his main enemy. He knew that this sheriff knew nothing about him, but Kenny remembered.
This man had killed his daughter.