Here's my second chapter up! Disclaimer: I don't own Sonic Characters, or the football team Cleveland Indians, although I gotta admit, Cleveland was really nice to have a team named Indians. It's almost as if they knew someone was going to come along who liked to talk about Cleveland. :)

Claimer: I own Maria, Checkers, Zombie, Swindlin' Sam, and Chief Falling Rocks and his squaw.


While the Chaotix Posse was just finding out the state of their beloved Twinkie Stash, the Hedgehog Gang had caught up with the stagecoach and were currently trying to rob it. Emphasis on 'trying.' The three were using a time honored method; that of using your bandana to cover your mouth so that your victims couldn't recognize them. It would have worked wonders if Sonic, in all his boneheaded thoughtfulness, hadn't monogrammed their names on their bandanas.

Shadow, his name displayed proudly in bold red letters on his midnight black bandana, had his water pistol aimed at the stagecoach driver so he didn't get any ideas. (Hey, this is a K RATED fiction, you freaks! Of course I'm not going to give them real guns! And if I gave them BB guns, they'd shoot their eye out. So water pistols it is.)

While he kept the driver covered, Silver, his white bandana showing a stunning golden all caps word stating 'Silver' on it, was making sure the passengers, four nuns from the order of Justice and Mercy, weren't going to play heroes.

That left Sonic, his blue bandana displaying the name Sonic in a peach colored tone, to rummage through the baggage to find anything stealable. "Barney!" the hedgehog called presently, holding up a bag of money.

"It's bingo, Sonic," Silver corrected.

Sonic looked at him blankly. "I thought Shadow told us no more gambling since that night in Reno…"

"What did I say about Reno?" Shadow snapped, not taking his eyes off of the driver.

"We aren't to mention it ever, not even after the end of always," Sonic and Silver quoted together.

"Good."

One of the nuns clasped her hands around her rosary, and pleaded with her captors, "Please, sirs, don't take that money. It's to be given to the Home for Starving and Neglected Orphans!"

There was a looong silence, then Silver shuffled nervously and cleared his throat. "Uh, Shadow? Maybe we shouldn't take the money."

Shadow risked taking his eyes off the driver for a fraction of a second, gawking at Silver. "What?"

"We can't steal money from starving and neglected orphans!" Silver insisted.

"Sure we can," Sonic said, although he sounded like he was trying to convince himself, rather than Silver. "We just gotta believe." His voice faltered for a moment, and he looked to Shadow for guidance. "Right?"

"Think of the starving and neglected orphans, guys!" Silver said, sounding disappointed that his comrades were still wondering if they should go through with this.

Another looooong silence passed, and Sonic sighed loudly. "Well…it really does seem pretty low to steal from starving and neglected orphans, Shads," he finally admitted.

Shadow closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Fine," he finally conceded. "Is there anything on this stagecoach that doesn't belong to the starving and neglected orphans?"

"I got a ragged old Injun blanket," a non-nun passenger spoke up.

"Who are you?" Shadow demanded.

"I am Swindlin' Sam, the world famous Injun swindler," the man said. "I go around and swindle Injuns out of their lifelong possessions for a Twinkie packet. Only thing is, I always eat one of the Twinkies without letting them know it."

There was one final loooong silence, then Silver spoke up with disgust. "That's absolutely pathetic. I say we take him for everything he's got."

Sonic nodded. "I don't feel guilty about robbing a swindler," he added.

"Good, so long as we can agree on something," Shadow said. "Sonic, grab everything Swindlin' Sam has that isn't stuck on."

"Does that include his shirt?" Sonic asked.

"Yes."

"What about his…"

"No, I don't think those would fit any of us."

"OK. Um, about his…"

"That's disgusting!"

"If you say so," Sonic grabbed Swindlin' Sam's shirt, shoes, hat, wallet, ragged old Injun blanket, and belt buckle, but left the thing that wouldn't fit any of them and also the one that was disgusting. Then the trio mounted up on their Chao and got ready to ride out.

"Hey, before you go, I swindled the blanket from the squaw of Chief Falling Rocks," Swindlin' Sam advised.

Shadow gave him a double take. "You mean the chief of the fierce Cleveland Indians tribe?"

"Yes. You probably should watch out for him."

Shadow nodded and tipped his hat slightly. "Thanks for the heads up. We'll watch for Falling Rocks."

Then the Hedgehog Gang rode off into the sunset, looking for other things that didn't belong to starving and neglected orphans for them to rob.


Meanwhile, at the Cleveland Indians' Tribe Headquarters…

Chief Falling Rocks tried in vain to console his squaw, She Who Knits Ragged Old Blankets, as he waited for his greatest warrior to come to his teepee.

Finally, the buffalo skinned doorway was pulled back and the brave entered his chief's teepee. The brave was a bright red color, with dreadlocks and a crescent-shaped birthmark on his chest. His hands were gloved and had spikes on them. It was because of this that he had gained his name, Punching Knuckles.

"Punching Knuckles," the Indian chief said, motioning him to sit. "Bad thing has happened. Pale Faced swindler trade squaw's best blanket for Twinkie. But eat one Twinkie and not tell her. Dirty Pale Face trick. Squaw want blanket back. Me want you hunt down blanket and take scalps of dirty Pale Faces that got it."

Punching Knuckles nodded. "Understood," he said, "But why are you talking like that, Chief?"

"Great One told me Indians were supposed to talk like this," Falling Rocks said defensively.

"Well, it's stupid, and I'm not going to do it. I don't care what the authoress told you!"

Falling Rocks gasped. "You not supposed to know about Mighty Authoress! Go, and no more break fourth wall!"

"Whatever," Punching Knuckles left the Chief's teepee and dodged out of the way to avoid the Cleveland Indians' linebacker, who whooped like mad and yelled, "Cameos ROCK!"

As the linebacker ran out of sight, Punching Knuckles looked up and yelled, "You'd better be paying me for this, StarVix!"

"What Chief tell you about breaking fourth wall?" Falling Rock asked from inside his teepee.

Punching Knuckles threw his hands up in disgust and stomped off to find his Chao so he could go get the chief's squaw's ragged old blanket.


Come on, like you've never thought that the Cleveland Indians wouldn't make a good Indian tribe name. They certainly don't make a good football team. I did some research on 'em, and from what I gather, they haven't gone pro since right around 1931. RR, please.

Project Starvix note: I'm not sure if it was intended, but I like to imagine Chief Falling Rock is Pachamac and his Squaw is Tikal. But meh. Oh, since you're reading this, be warned! In future chapters Starvix will let her dislike of Silver shine. I myself am not a Silver hater, so it bugs me a bit, but I'm not altering Starvix's works! Don't worry, I'll be putting more Silver hate warnings in the future.