Diamonds
Saw Rango-love RSJ. Thought, why not? This story is dedicated to Andresome04. I DO NOT own Rango , I just own my OC. Rango belongs to Nickelodeon and Paramount Pictures.
The hot beacon rose over the Mojave Desert against a Scarlet sky. The heat almost unbearable to most plants and animals, the place where humans who found themselves lost came to die. For a desert named after the Spanish phrase "beside the water," it was a place of sweltering heat and dried vegetation.
It was a place of death.
That didn't stop most animals-reptiles, mammals, birds, insects-from adapting to the harsh environment through their own methods of evolution. Hawks eyeing their prey from above, unaware it had crawled under a rock. Most of the time, the prey they were seeking was a rock. Scorpions digging burrows waiting upon a smaller animal to fall into their trap, allowing them to inject the poor creature with a kiss of poison.
Despite all of these harsh realities, it never stopped the animals of Mud. Formally Dirt, it was a town hidden in the middle of a vast stretch of golden ground. Hidden from humans. Hidden from predators. Though it was lawless, rough and frankly estranged from the civilised world, they kept their traditions, customs and daily supplies shipped in from the wagons that headed way out west. It was a quaint place, bank, town hall, church, small houses-but it had a dark side too. A Saloon where the local thugs would come to gulp down cactus juice and threaten the barman. A brothel where more of the thugs would come to be pleasured by kidnapped women. Some who weren't even women yet. And an old well that was known for being the place of suicide to most animals over the years. It was known to most of the towns people as "la entrada del infierno," meaning the entrance to hell.
Although times had changed since the fitting and un-tragic death of Mayor John, there was still an eerily ever creeping sadness that hung around the town, following it's citizens who although they had each other, trusted no one and no outsiders. All new comers were immediately sent to the sheriff who would set them up at the local tavern or a burrow for the night. The sheriff was a scrawny green type, prone to nervousness and egotistical bragging, and constantly changing accents from his local sound to the southwestern lilt of the desert. He was a good man, trying to help out as many people as he could, while also trying to keep peace and order in the town. He came from a crystal chamber, flung out into the desert through a highway crash and made up stories of a land where they kill a man just to work up an appetite before dinner and where reptilians of a different species could be related through blood. His name: Rango...and he was a chameleon.
On this day, he was strolling through the town in a ridiculously hitched up pair of fur pants and a black and red sombrero. His gun was stuffed into his belt, tucked away, with bullets still there in case he needed them. Passing the saloon he called out to the local entertainer girls, Melonee and Magdine. "Evening ladies!"
"Evening sheriff!" they giggled flirtatiously, "you comin' to watch our show t'night?"
"Wouldn't miss it for all the water and gin in the world girls!" He replied tipping his sombrero, making them giggle even more. Walking into his office he found Beans, his beloved iguana sweetheart standing arms folded beside his desk. The lizard gulped. "Beans?"
Beans narrowed her eyes and handed him a piece of paper. "You mind tellin' me what this here permit says Sheriff?"
Oh crap. "That's nothin' darlin' just something I was gon' give Balthazar's boys about-um-prospecting?"
Beans jabbed in the chest. "There ain't no way you're lettin them boys dig underneath the pipes where the water come out. Remember what happened last time they tried to "prospect?" We ended up with no dang water!"
"Aw shoot, come on Beans, you know there weren't no water in the tank when they stole it!"
"Makes no difference, you should learn to be more careful otherwise we're bone dry for the next THREE MONTHS-"
Rango sighed as she broke into one of her frequent catatonic states.
He took the permit tore it to shreds and put it back onto the desk.
"-AND ON TOP OF THAT-Oh. I did it again didn't I?"
"Yep, and ya ripped that there permit to ribbons. To put through them pretty braids of yours."
"I did?" Beans stared incredulously at the torn up paper. "Oh. But that's impossible, if I never-well I'm sorry bout that Mr Rango."
"Ah, no harm done. You comin' to the saloon this evening?"
"I'd like nothin' mord but right now I gots lots of work to do."
"Aw come on! You always have lots of work to do!"
"Well it ain't easy bein' yer Secretary ya know! All these cases comin' in left right'n centre. It's almost like the whole town's jus' head'n into chaos again. All these gangs, thugs, attacks. You know I seen a second young maid bein' dragged into the Soiled Dove yesterday?"
"Another one?" Rango's expression turned to pity. "How old was she?"
Beans shrugged. "I didn't see. But not much older than lil Priscilla. Rango's pity turned to horror. "Well-uh. That ain't right then."
"You're the law Rango. You should be workin' towards gettin' that place shut down. Then maybe those poor girls will be let free."
"But if it's shut down where are the gents here gonna go to get-ya know-serviced?"
Beans scoffed out of disgust. "They'll just have to meet a girl on their own! Otherwise they can just leave town!"
Rango considered this. There had been a considerable rise in crime around the town for some suspicious reason. Maybe he had been too laid back. Well no more. He was going to head out and put a stop to to it, give to the gangs what they deserved.
"See ya later Beans!" he said quickly kissing her on the cheek.
"Later honey," she said continuing to write, "hurry back."
Rango opened the doors and checked the surroundings. Not a lot of people outside. Probably all down at the new water park. Half the town have spent most of their time down there since the water had returned to them. There was the old anteater selling glass bottles of assorted colours the old rat sitting outside the gun shop smoking his cigar, with Furgus sleeping in a rocking chair on his porch. Spoons the elderly mouse sitting chewing tobacco whilst playing a tune using the kitchen utilities where he got his name, Sgt Turley out for a stroll his infamous arrow injury sticking out like a nervous rabbit in mating season and of course Mr Black the tarantula lugging a cart full of embalming oils and nails and wood. Rango shivered knowing exactly what he did for a living. Keeping the dead well kept.
The only visable activity were the local children kicking a ball around and creating clouds of dust. Benjamin, Mordecai, Cletus and Priscilla, the only little girl in Mud who could kick a tumbleweed harder than any of the boys. She spotted Rango and her yellow eyes widened and lit up.
"Sheriff Rango! Sheriff Rango!"
"What is it Little Sister?"
"We're havin' a game of kick the tumbleweed an' I won. Tell them boys I won. They don't believe me!"
"Ain't true!" shouted Benjamin. "She's a cheater!"
"Yeah! That's right! A Cheater!" piped up Mordecai.
"I thought she did okay," shrugged Cletus kicking the earth with his paw.
"Quiet you!" snapped Benjamin slapping the racoon's head and making him yelp.
"Woah woah!" said Rango putting his webbed hands up, "there's obviously some conflict brewing like a storm here. Now who won?"
"I did!" Benjamin and Priscilla said in unison.
"Okay..." Rango drew a blank. He didn't know what to do when it came to solving children's disputes. "Uh-"
"SHERIFF!"
Rango turned to see Ambrose and Willy running towards him holding their hats. "Ya'll better scatter, now. This is sheriff duty." Rango told the kids. "Sherrif!" Ambrose panted. "There's something very important you have to see!"
"It's Bad Bill!" saud Willy, his feathers ruffled, "he's been spotted 3 miles south with his boys!"
"They've got guns!"
"Big guns!"
"And they have a group now!"
"A whole posse!"
"And they're headed this way!" They both finished.
Rango's breath faltered. Bad Bill? Here? Now? Everytime he came to town he caused trouble by either shooting someone in the foot, bullying the locals or even thieving. "Uh. Yes. I'll be right there." Then he turned to Priscilla. "Little Sister, you take good care of the town while I'm gone. And keep them boys in line ya hear?"
"But Sherrif Rango I wanna go with you."
Rango knealt down so he could be at her level. "A gun fight ain't no place for a young lady," he told her gently. Priscilla pleaded. "I got guns. I got them stashed at home. My mama keeps in her drawers. Says she'll shoot any intruders."
Rango cringed. The young desert mouse never ceased to amaze him at her knowledge and obsession with death.
"We might not even use guns." said Rango, seeing the shapes of Bill and his thugs on the horizon, and the people ducking for cover.
He remembered the golf club he had in his office and rushed in to get it greeted by a worried Beans.
"Rango? What's goin' on out there?"
"Bill's goin' on. They got a posse now."
"Bad Bill. You're going after Bad Bill. He'll shoot you in your temples!"
"Chance I'm willin' to take," said the sherif pulling the mayor's old golf club off the wall and heading straight out. "Gotta go Beans!"
Beans sighed irritably. Then her expression softened. "I love you, you crazy fool."
At the edge of town headed south just like Ambrose and Willy said, the gun-slinging gang of Bad Bill were standing sluggishly to the path of Dirt. Their gang had grown considerably in size, with many of them now on roadrunners. Rango stood alone, his hand ready to grab his pistol at any moment. The familiar cockney accent sliced through him like a knife.
"Well Well Well. What 'av we got 'ere?"
The chameleon's gaze focused hard on the thug. "Listen up Bill! You gotta leave town. I'm a givin' you 12 seconds to gid on outta here!"
The gila monster roared with laughter. "Oh? Is that right? An' what are you gonna do about it? "
The thugs on their roadrunners laughed. Rango gulped and began c counting down. "Twelve...eleven...ten...nine..."
Bill and his gang never once halted their hysterical sounds. Their whiskers twitching and tails wagging. Bill stood at the forefront grinning maliciously.
"Seven. Six...Five." the sherrif began moving back towards the town, ready to run for it. As much as he was dedicated to keeping the town safe and secure he also was not in the mood to get into a brutal encounter with the infamous Bad Bill.
"What in God's name is that lizard doin'?" sighed Furgus.
"He's gonna run Bill outta town, show him who's boss," added Buford the bar keep.
"He's gonna shoot Bill in the chest ain't no doubt about it," chimed in Priscilla.
"Come on honey." whispered Beans.
Bill was still smirking, his beady eyes fixed on Rango who had stopped but still had his back to the gang.
"Four."
At this point Bill grabbed his gun, and signalled for the others to do so. A clicking sound was heard, and the town fell silent.
"Three...
Two...
One..."
BANG!
The Gila monster's revolver exploded in a cloud of black ash and smoke. The others fired their rifles and shotguns in the air, filling the air with the sounds of thunder and lightening. As the clouds cleared Bill laughed waiting to see the bloodied body of the target.
Except there was no target.
"Where'd he go boss?"
"SHUD UP! Let me think."
The posse looked around confused as the townsfolk held their breath.
Suddenly, one of the cactuses moved. "Uh-Boss?"
"I thought I told you swines to Shud up!"
"But Bill, the cactus!"
Bill's temper rose. "You 'eard what a said mate! One more sound from you an' your fur's gonna make me a nice coat!"
"I didn't think you'd need a coat in these parts."
The gang hurriedly looked around pointing their guns to thin air. "Who's there? Show yourself!" spat Bill.
The cactus replied by coughing up an odd shape with beady yellow eyes and the same rough olive green colour. "I am."
Rango reverted back to his normal colour and used his legs and tail to kick Bill across the face. The roadrunner posse stood frozen and stunned as Rango pulled out his gun.
"What are you doin' standin' gawpin' you idiots? Kill 'Im!"
There was dust, dirt, gunfire, screams, the occasional flash of red-things moving fast, tails being used as a method of defence, (though it wouldn't ever have beat Rango's camouflage.) The sound of Bill's anger erupting from his rasping throat was unmistakable. "You piece of shit! I'll kill you an' skin your hide to wipe my-" he was silenced by a kick to the face by a member of his own gang.
"You-!"
The whole gang were fighting, and their roadrunners had taken off. They were sprawling in the dust, knocking each other's teeth out and cracking each others limbs. They had failed to notice that Rango had quietly slipped out of the ring and was watching them blissfully kill each other. The townspeople jabbed their fists in the air in a silent cheer.
"Give em hell Rango!" said Buford.
"He's crazy!" tutted Spoons.
When all the dust had cleared, Bad Bill marched straight up to Rango grabbing him by the throat. "Any last words you pathetic worm?" Rango's eyes suddenly lost their confidence. "Bill, there doesn't have to be no trouble. Ya'll just have to keep it to a minimum and not bother any of the civilian population."
"You think I'd do what you say after that dirty trick?" Bill sneered, "you're a bloomin' waste of space. I'm gonna kill you in front of all your friends."
"Even the hawk?" said Rango struggling for breath.
The anger in Bill's eyes quickly changed to fear as the word hawk hit him like a lead pipe. He scowled at Rango and squashed him into a ball tying his arms, legs and tail together. "Come on you lot we're leavin!"
"But Boss you said-"
"I know what I bloody well said! You think I can't remember my own words! Get your arses back on them birds and lets go!" Then turning to Rango he said, "We'll be back soon enough maggot!" and rode away with the rest of his gang.
"Sherrif!" called out Beans as she and the others ran out of the saloon to join him, "Sherrif Rango! Are you alright?"
Rango gave a weak gap-toothed smile, "I been better."
Wounded Bird the Native American crow came to twist his body back into place.
"OWWWW-Oh! Thank you!"
"You are welcome. Bill come back soon."
"Oh god, that's right!" gasped Beans.
"What do we do now Sheriff Rango?" asked Willy.
"Yeah," said Waffles the horned lizard. "What's the plan?"
"I'll think of somethin'" said Rango, entering his office, though he only said it as to not worry them. He had never lost a fight to Bill before, never been so badly beaten up. There was only one solution.
It was time to call in Rattlesnake Jake.
