I do not own Rango or anybody or thing in Gore Verbinski's magnificent movie, I do however own OC's and ask that you please not steal them without asking, if, for some reason, you'd like to use one of my characters in your story feel free to ask : )
Please enjoy my story based on one of my Favorite animated movies EVER!
Oh yeah, and please leave constructive comments telling me what you like about the story and of course what could be better, I love comments, but of course what author does't, thank you!
Chapter 1: Gunslingers
The blazing sun setting to the east on the horizon cast a powerful orange glow across the twisting sands of the Mojave Desert. The Spanish Daggers stood tall against the colorful sky, though each were twisted or leaning at an odd angle. Each of the large ragged cacti cast a long oblong shadow on the dirt and dust of the land. The shade served as a good base camp for a good-sized group of critters sitting amongst a campfire, arguing about the bounty the local lawmen had recently put on their heads.
"What the hell are you lookin at me fer?" Said a small little wildcat in chaps, a vest, boots, and a hat. "I told you when I blew the damn farm, I got outta there clean! I think it might've been you Harry! You're never subtle when yer killin!" The cat said pointing to a large beetle in gloves, a belt, hat, and boots. He looked appalled and not too happy either.
"You blamin me Ned? You better check if you got the cajones to tango with me bub!" With that he pulled four six shot revolvers from his holsters and the tips of each met an important organ on the cat's body. The cat hadn't expected a draw so suddenly but Harry had always been the quickest on the draw in their posse.
"Ease up now, Harry, we don't need to kill each other or nothin," a weasel named Lark told him. Lark had always been the one to cool the beetle's short temper. "Put'em away now son." Harry did as the weasel said and holstered his guns, all except one, which he had snug between Ned's eyes.
"I'd be careful who you'd falsely accuse next time Ned. Otherwise I might be possessed enough to be killin ya." Ned's hands had been in the air the whole time and he soiled himself and failed to hide it. The others in the circle, a small buzzard named Gringo, a desert toad named Stanley, and miniature armadillo named Roy, all laughed in unison at the sight of the cat's accident.
"I ain't mean nothin by it, Harry, just calm down, I take it back," Ned stammered relieving himself once more. Harry laughed slyly and lowered his gun, then, in a quick dash raised it and shot the cat right between the eyes.
Blood spattered the sand and the cat's body fell after it. The other four, Lark, Roy, Stanley, and Gringo, all stared at the cat's dead body as it gave one last twitch and death took him. "What the hell is goin' on here!" A deep gravely voice called from the distance. The men's heads turned to see their leader, a scraggly Rat named Wesley, and his bodyguard, a giant of a critter, a badger named Lars. "What the fuck happened to Ned? Who the hell shot him?"
Nobody dared point to Harry, if Wesley spared him, which was likely knowing Harry's usefulness, and Ned's long line of messes, Harry would be sure to kill whoever sells him out. "Nobody's talkin' huh?" Wesley walked through them, eyeing each one closely as he passed. "I reckon ya'll are scared to point out who'd done it 'cause they're a damn good shot, ain't that right Harry?"
Harry smiled devilishly his beady beetle eyes narrowing as his smile broadened. Wesley smiled and laughed shaking his head. "What the hell am I gonna do with you bug?"
"Gimme all Ned's possessions," Harry said with a grin.
"You can have whatever he's got on him, never cared much for the bastard any-damn-way, he's the reason we gotta damn bounty on our heads. Hundred dollars I might add, for the lot of us." There was a cheer as the amount was vocalized, the men began patting each other, and themselves on the backs for their jobs-well-done. "Alright, alright, that's enough." He crossed his arms around his back and paced through his group of men like a military officer. "Now we gotta a lot of work to do. We have to spread our name, recruit some men, and make sure the people of the Mojave know our na-"
"Look Boss!" Stanley the toad cried out pointing to a far hill.
"This better be important if you're interrupting me boy!" Wesley said with a dark look towards the toad. The toad pointed, with an excited expression, to the left and the eyes of each man followed him to what was coming down the hill towards them.
"Is that…?" Roy the armadillo stammered.
"It is," replied Gringo with a creepy grin.
"A woman!" Wesley said excitedly. They each hooped and hollered throwing their hats into the air and laughing with each other. "Now you boys calm yourselves down.," Wesley said smoothing his hair back with what bit of saliva was left on his tongue after such a long dry day. "Let's give her a gentlemen's welcome shall we?"
The woman rode on a large Tarantula, all its legs moving in sink with reigns beneath its large fangs. The woman was a miniature fox with long straight black hair, large ears perked up towards the sky, and crystal blue eyes. She wore a black dress that was tight around the chest and stomach, adding definition to her perky breasts. The dress hung loosely around her legs and hips and her tail drifted harmlessly and elegantly in the wind. She had a large songbird feather in her hair to add to the radiance of the sight she was to behold.
"She's riding on a giant spider boss," Lark said a little hesitantly backing up a bit from his position.
"Them's spiders is stupid, Lark," Wesley said. "Tarantula's ain't as smart as Black Widows or Wolf Spiders. They's mostly used as beasts of burden." Lark nodded understandably but the giant hairy spider still unnerved the weasel. "Howdy young lady," Wesley said with a smile and a bow. The woman's enormous mount halted as she pulled the reigns. She stared at the rat without interest. "Now what's a purty thing like yourself doin in the big bad desert at this hour dear?"
"Travelin' of course, what's a bunch of big strong men like yourselves doin' out here in the middle of the desert?" She asked in a sultry young voice the men thought should belong to an angel.
"Why, we's a gang miss. How's about staying a little while and keepin us some much-needed company?" Wesley smiled gesturing to his boys. The fox girl looked at them and smiled. Her smile was the sexiest thing any of the men had ever seen. "Say, might'n you be a bargirl at the local saloon er somethin'? I always heard they were mighty purty." The smile faded from the fox's face and her eyes narrowed.
"No I am not," she said with belligerence in her voice. "Nor am I a prostitute or a dancer. You would do wise to watch your tongue when speaking to me, Rat."
The word "Rat" seemed to strike a cord in Wesley. He pulled his gun quickly and stuck it right between the fox's eyes. "Don't you ever call me a Rat you filthy bitch!" He smiled as his gun traced down the front of the girl, before landing in her cleavage. "Now, you're gonna go ahead and take these here duds off and give me a little poke or you'll be spittin lead during your little dirt nap."
"That term…'poke', was it? Let me tell you something you disgusting little sewer rat, that term is used by savages and barbarians, no gentlemen would refer to the process of love making as you have and that is unfortunate for the likes of you," she narrowed her eyes sensually and put emphasis on her breasts by pushing them out a bit. "Because I only sleep with gentlemen."
"You should learn you place around men you wretched whore!" Wesley cocked the gun and pulled for the trigger. Before he realized it his revolver and two of his pink fingers were flying through the air among the crimson mist of his own blood. "What the fuck!" He was in shock but it didn't stop him from realizing the oddity of that bullet's direction. It came from beneath the ground!
"BOSS!" Wesley turned in enough time to see Stanley the toad sucked under the sand. Thick red blood began to flood the hole and spill out.
"Stanley!" Roy the armadillo shouted. The remaining three boys crowded around the blood filled hole to search for a sign of the assailant.
The weasel, Lark, turned to the fox with tears of horror in his eyes. "What did you do bitch!" He pulled his gun and aimed for her, ignoring that his boss was completely catatonic from shock. Lark felt the fur on the back of his neck moving back and forth. He looked to his left and saw Roy, Harry, and Gringo stared at him with shear terror in their eyes. He could feel it. Lark could feel the eyes of something demonic behind him, he could feel it breathing on his neck. It felt as though the devil had risen from hell and was standing right behind him. He soon found it was worse. He turned and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
"Reach for the sky weasel!" Said a cackling voice behind the gun. Lark saw the black shell of an Emperor Scorpion. The yellow eyes under the black cowboy hat sent more than a chill down his spine. Lark thought his spine would run for cover at the sight of those cold, dead yellow eyes. "Put the gun down weasel!" The scorpion said with a laugh. The other's came over to help but the scorpion stuck out another gun held by his other smaller hand. The arms holding guns were the bottom pair underneath a larger pair of arms donning giant black pincers. The scorpion walked on four thick legs and its tail, its horrible bladed tail, was raised in the air menacingly, like a dagger held by the devil himself.
Lark dropped his revolver and the scorpion smirked evilly, revealing two rows of needle-like teeth. "You seen you're last sunset Weasel!" The scorpion screamed and with a loud cackle he plunged the tip of his stinger deep into the weasel. Lark's allies called out to him but he fell to the ground with a thud. But the scorpion wasn't finished. He kept stabbing the stinger into the dead weasel watching his blood fly from his body again and again and again.
Lars, the badger, finally asserted himself and advanced on the scorpion ready to draw the creature's blood. Suddenly two hooves found Lars' chin and wrenched his neck to the side with a snap! Lars' giant body fell to the ground as it revealed an equally as large Havelina with twisted tusks and large burly arms. His legs were thick in the thigh but skinny around the ankle and were covered by leather chaps but no shirt or boots. His white cowboy hat donned on his head perfectly and his eyes, while calm and collected, were those of a killer for sure.
Before anything could be said the Havelina pulled a custom made repeater rifle out and shot the buzzard named Gringo square in the chest. Harry and Roy looked over to watch their brother-in-arms fall to the ground, but not before a bullet of unknown origin landed underneath Roy's carapace, killing him instantly. Harry, the beetle, was alone aside from his catatonic leader. But he knew he'd be okay, he was the quickest draw in the west. In a flash he pulled his gun and aimed for both the scorpion, who stood and smiled at him, and the havelina, who only stared at him menacingly. He cocked the guns but all four were blown from his hands with four straight shots. Harry watched his hands fall with the guns, falling in slow motion to the ground, he didn't even notice the pain.
"Fastest draw in the west?" The fox said blowing smoke from the barrel of her silver colt .45 then replacing it in its holster. "Sykes."
The scorpion nodded and smiled at the beetle. "Time's up partner!" He leaped at the beetle and tackled him to the ground. He began to plunge the tip of his stinger into the beetle as he snipped off his arms and legs with his pincers. The beetle screamed as the stinger sunk in again and again, the scorpion cackled sinisterly, it echoed throughout the desert as the arachnid tore the poor beetle to pieces.
The fox and havelina watched, neither of them phased by the carnage. Eventually Sykes ended his fun and the only thing left of the beetle named Harry was a puddle of blood, guts and pieces of his exoskeleton. If you hadn't known it was a beetle before there was no way to tell now.
"Boys," the fox said. "Collect anything of value from the camp-"
"You bitch!" Wesley snapped out of his inert state and found his gun with the other hand and had it trained on the fox. "You kill my entire posse, you raid my camp, you blow off my fingers, I'm gonna kill you and then I'm gonna kill your friends!" He cocked the gun again but the fox only smiled.
"You'll have to take that up with him."
Behind him, Wesley hears a sound like a maraca from a mariachi band. He knew that sound. He'd heard it before in his nightmares and on the night his pa was killed. By the Grim Reaper. By Rattlesnake Jake. He turned to see a very large rattlesnake with a machine gun for a rattle and a dark cowboy hat. But there was something different about him. Instead of those horrible eyes that looked like hellfire, they were just black with yellow slit pupils. They weren't the same eyes. "You…You're not Rattlesnake Jake," Wesley the rat stammered.
"No," the snake said lifting his head high in the air. "I'm worse." And with that he bit down on the rat sinking his curved fangs into the rat's body and injecting his horrible poison into this veins. The rat went limp instantly and the snake began swallowing his meal whole.
"Diz!" The fox snapped. She glared at him.
Diz the rattlesnake looked at her and frowned apologetically. "Sorry," he said through a belch.
The fox sighed and said. "It's okay I know you must be hungry, but we have to check them first. What if he had something valuable?" The snake named Diz bowed his head and looked at her with sorrowful eyes.
"Sorry Veronica." Veronica dismounted from her Tarantula and walked over to the snake, each step more elegant than the last. She wrapped her arms around his head and hugged him, he was massive compared to her.
"You know I can't stay mad at my little brother," she said with a giggle. Diz smiled and flicked his tongue lovingly. He nuzzled his sister affectionately. They weren't really siblings, of course, but a long time ago Veronica saved Diz when he was young, back when he had first adopted his gun slinging profession. They've been best friends ever since and Diz took on the job of guarding her while she traveled. The way he saw it, who would want to mess with an outlaw with a rattlesnake bodyguard?
"Ain't nothin too special here," Sykes the scorpion said scuttling along the desert up to his fox and snake allies. "Guns, food, tents, sleepin bags, and other common materials any band of gunslingers would need."
"Don't mistake this scum for what we are, Sykes," Veronica said still rubbing Diz's head. "We are true gunslingers, fore we live by a code of honor, there is no honor among thieves." She looked at the dead cat, Ned, assuming what had happened. "Not anymore."
"We should make camp soon," the havelina said with a large bag full of materials flung over his shoulder. "It'll be dark soon and we're gonna wanna make a fire before it gets too dark or cold."
"Very good Bruno, but I think we have everything we need right here." She gestured towards the camp. "A fire, shelter, water…"
"Food!" Sykes and Diz said in unison staring at the corpses of their fallen foes.
"Food." Veronica said hugging Diz's large neck with a giggle.
"Fine then we'll set up camp here, but we should start again at dawn tomorrow for certain," Bruno said setting his bag of supplies on the ground. "We still have a job to do ya know."
"Yes," Veronica said staring at the setting sun, admiring the colors she so rarely got to see. It was much better to see the yellows and oranges and pinks. She so much preferred them to the color she always seemed to see. Brown…and Red.