A while later, the stage was set for Forge's story.

"This costume looks silly on me!" Magneto protested as he adjusted his headdress. "Why can't I wear my helmet instead of this?"

"Because your helmet isn't authentic to the time period we're working in," Amara said as she dabbed some face paint across Magneto's cheeks. "At least the rest of the actors weren't this touchy about their costumes," she muttered under her breath.

"Hey, pop, I think it looks good on you!" Pietro said, trying to cheer his father up.

"Shut up, boy," Magneto growled.

X

A pre-recorded orchestra started playing as the Danger Room set changed into an open desert. A long train of white covered wagons slowly blazed a trail across the desert.

"Well, we weren't actually a part of it," Forge said, in a voice-over as the camera panned back to a solitary wagon, well behind the rest of the train. "You might say we was bringin' up the rear. When suddenly, from out of the west came the entire Sioux nation. And believe me, baby, they was open for business!"

"That's my cue!" Magneto said. "I'm off to win another Academy award!"

"Um, pops," Pietro interrupted. "Two things. First, I'M winning the award for this movie, and second, you're missing the action!"

Magneto looked back to see that his tribe of Indians had already taken off over the hill without him, and were currently riding circles around the wagon train.

"Crap!" Magneto shouted.

"Yes?" asked Kurt.

"Not you!" Magneto shouted, and spurred up his horse and rode off.

"Oh, sorry, wrong parody," said Kurt. With all the roles he was being asked to play in the numerous Mel Brooks parodies being filmed these days, his mind was getting thoroughly mixed up.

Forge continued his story.

"Actually, the white folks didn't let us travel in their circle, so we made our own,"

The camera showed Forge's family wagon driving around in a hectic circle as several Indians closed in. Magneto rode up to the wagon, where Storm and Sabertooth were clinging tightly to a baby that was supposed to be a young forge. The baby even had a baby sized drill on his arm.

"Dat must have been one hell of a delivery," Remy quipped, off the set.

"You're telling me!" Storm said.

Magneto approached the wagon. He looked at Storm and Baby Forge for a moment, and then opened his mouth to speak.

"Spatzis," he said. One of the Indians next to him raised his spear.

"No, no," Magneto said to the Indian. "Zeitsnes meshuggah,"

Magneto took a close look at Baby Forge and then looked up to the sky. "Lozingay!" he shouted. "Kata walk, it's all right!" he said to Storm.

"Thank you," said Storm, Sabertooth and Baby Forge.

"Abeegazin," said Magneto, pointing with his war club. Storm drove the wagon away to safety.

"Has viggesein en ai de laiden? They talken den us! Woof!" Magneto said to one of his Indians as the wagon rode off.

The camera faded back to the sheriff's office, where Forge was smoking a cigar. "And the rest is history," he said, puffing on the cigar. "Impressed?" he asked Remy.

Remy's only response was a snore. He had fallen asleep, and his hat hung low over his eyes.

"Always like to keep my audience riveted," Forge said to the camera.

X

On the back half of the set, Jamie's smarter clone was shooting a different scene. Due to time constraints, they had to shoot two scenes at once.

It was dark on this set, and the camera panned across a barbed wire fence, to which several horses were hitched to. It passed a sign that said "Administrative Personnel Only. Knock on Barbed Wire Before Entering", and zoomed in on Lance, Toad, and several other outlaws sitting around a campfire, eating a hearty meal of baked beans.

One of the outlaws took a bite of the beans, and belched loudly. Next to him, Toad leaned over and farted.

An outlaw 2 spots to Toad's left stood up to fart. Each of the other outlaws began belching and farting in turn. This went on for several minutes. The food budget had been very well spent indeed.

Lance rode up to the fire and nearly gagged at the stench. He fanned the air with his hat, trying to get some fresh air. "God damn!" he shouted.

"How about some more beans, Mr. Taggert?" asked Toad, offering him a plate.

"I'd say you boys have had enough!" Lance said, fanning the air some more. "Now, I understand there's a new sheriff in town. Who wants to kill him?" he asked.

All of the outlaws raised their hands and volunteered for the job. Toad stood up.

"Mr Taggert, Mr Taggert sir!" he said. "Why don't we give him to Mongo?" he asked. He pointed over at another tent, but there was nobody there.

"Hey, where's Mongo?" Jamie's clone asked.

"Oh, I forgot," said Toad. "He called in sick,"

"What?" spazzed Jamie's clone. "Do you know what the real me is going to say when he hears about this?"

"Hey, relax, yo!" said Toad. "I got it covered! Fred!" he shouted.

Fred walked onto the set. "You called?" he asked. Then he saw the big pot of beans sitting in front of Mongo's tent. "Hey, food!" he said. He sat down in Mongo's place and began eating out of the pot with a big ladle.

"Fred! Holy shit, that IS too cruel!" Lance laughed. "I'll be danged, that is a unique idea!"

Toad beamed, thrilled to have thought up such an evil scheme all by himself.

Lance walked over to Fred. Fred looked up at Lance, but before he could say anything, Lance started whacking him over the head with a leather whip.

"Ow! That hurts!" said Fred, raising his arms to ward off the blow. "Why are you hitting me?"

"Sorry, it's in the script," said Lance. "It's me, Taggert, your old boss! Here, smell," he said, holding out his hand. Fred sniffed the leather glove on Lance's hand and calmed down a bit.

"Yeah, that's a good Fred," Lance said. "Hey, how 'bout it? How'd you like to mutilate that new sheriff?"

Fred began to laugh, and clapped his hands together in glee.

"Alright!" Lance said. "Here, have a cigar," he said, handing Fred a stogie.

Fred put the cigar in his mouth and leaned over to the fire to light it. After a few moments, the fire lit the cigar, but also ignited Fred's hat as well. Fred hardly noticed as the hat burnt to cinders.

X

In his office, Forge lit up a cigarette. "Jamie, I hope you're not trying to give me lung cancer," he said as he took a puff.

"Relax, they're nicotine free!" Jamie said.

"That's not very reassuring," Forge said as he shook out the match.

Over by the sink, Remy was shaving with a old straight razor and trying not to slit his throat. "Weren't the arrows enough torture? Remy's neck can't take much more of this," he muttered.

"Hey, I got a note this morning," he said to Forge. "Addressed to the deputy spade,"

"Deputy spade?" asked Forge. "Well, once I establish myself in this town, deputy spade might turn out to be a pretty groovy position,"

He handed Remy the cigarette. Remy took a puff and cringed as the smoke burned his throat.

"Listen, Bart," he said, his voice noticeably higher. "I want you to do me a favor. I don't want you to go out there this morning," By this time his voice had returned to its normal register. "You're not going to win these people over. They're just not going to accept you,"

"Well maybe if I could take this drill off every now and then, like I do in REAL life," Forge said sarcastically. "They wouldn't notice,"

"You got a problem with the drill, take it up with the props department!" said Jamie.

Remy finished wiping the shaving cream off his face, having managed not to cut himself. Forge decided to test his reflexes now that Remy had sobered up, and quickly stood up and reached for his guns.

Quick as lightning, Remy dropped the razor and pointed his fingers at Forge before he could even touch his guns.

"I'm glad those fingers ain't loaded," Forge said with a smile.

"Just like old times," Remy said.

"Like I said," said Forge. "Once you establish yourself, they gots to accept you. I'll catch you later," he said, and walked out of the office.

Remy took another drag on the cigarette. "Good luck!" he called after Forge, his voice sounding very much like Mickey Mouse.

"Cut!" Jamie called, the scene finished.

Remy started coughing. "What kinda cigarettes you get for Remy?" he squeaked. "Remy don't wanna sound like no goddamn rat forever!"

"They wear off, trust me!" said Jamie.

"Hey, I've got to be getting back over to Todd Fan's set soon," said Scott. "Remy and I are doing the big duel next,"

"Oh, fine, but you'd better be back by morning!" Jamie said. "If we don't get this out by Friday morning there's going to be hell to pay!"

X