"Now what happens?" asked the man in black.
"We face each other as God intended," Fezzik said. "No tricks, no weapons, skill against skill alone."
"You mean you'll put down your rock and I'll put down my sword and we'll try to kill each other like civilized people, is that it?"
― William Goldman, The Princess Bride
I wasn't sure if I had anyone I could trust.
I knew I couldn't trust my wife.
Walking inside of the Honky Tonk I knew instantly there was someone I could put my faith in. I had told him where the money was stashed and seeing him on the other side of the bar with his back turned, I knew exactly where it was all spent. His name is Tyrese. Tyrese Mitchel. Number 927354. He followed my plan down to the last detail.
I took a chance on him when we were both on the inside of cell block 8. He recognized me instantly the moment I sat at the bar. The random patron would have never suspected.
"What can I get for you, Partner."
"A shot of whiskey."
"Coming right up?"
"You from around here?"
I eyed him and the other fella who was nursing some misery and back at Tyrese who had a small shot glass and the bottle open ready to pour.
"No."
"Plan on staying?"
"No."
"Don't blame, you. Not much to do. The town is about another 5 miles of nothing but people that wouldn't come to a place like this. Only outsiders passing through. A few nuisances now have their foot at my neck. Other than that, up the road, you'll find a small town. Don't drive too fast or you will be out of Georgia and into the Badlands, you will miss it."
"Really?"
"Really."
His description was a thinly veiled complaint since he's a black man and originally from Chicago. Tyrese had gotten out a year before I did. My set up became OUR opportunity to be from all outward appearances, law-abiding citizens.
"This is the kind of town that gets their excitement about a new sheriff coming to town. Expecting him any day. Makes it hard to do the right thing without one."
Another person arrived from the sound of the entrance. I watched the look on Tyrese's face. I read what I needed to know without once turning around. The place was empty enough, practically vacant but the empty bar stool next to me was where this guy decides to sit.
He ordered a beer.
"Coming right up!"
"Come here often?"
I didn't respond to the question directed at me by the stranger who inquired.
"Come here often?"
He asked again as if I hadn't heard him the first time.
I directed my response to Tyrese after he had placed the beer in front of the man who was similarly built as I including his features.
"Another shot and make it quick."
"I've never been to this neck of the woods and from what's been told to me-this is the friendliest place in all of Georgia."
"Not much else."
Tyrese had stepped in with a response which kept the man from asking me anything more. The urge to knock his lights out slowly dulled by the alcohol I drank. By the time I was on my 4th shot, there were six dead men and it included one who was going to be the town's new Sheriff.