Cirplo was a lot of things. A man of the intelligentsia, connoisseur of art and decorum, kingpin of a well-connected gang. He was also one hell of a snappy dresser. Jazz played in the halls of his chique mansion. It had been an Eastern monastery before it underwent extensive remodeling to suit his particular tastes. Cirplo was clicking his fingers, swaying his hips, slowly grooving his way over to the firepit.
And what a wonderful firepit it was. A ten-by-ten block square of lit netherrack.
Nether-matter didn't come cheap. Most adventurers would rather dive into lava than endure the pants-pissing horror of that hellscape. The eternal flames atop the netherrack danced, illuminating burnished bronze and orange stonework. Cirplo loved his firepit - it perfectly encapsulated who he was. He turned, swishing his arms, the litany of tiny rubies on his party-coat flashed in the firelight. Cirplo was just like that fire: brazen and bright, and yet there was continuity. He wasn't a flash-then-done kind of man. He was methodical too.
His fancy boot nudged a pedestal and he jumped back.
"For real!?" He roared, "Butler!" The music stopped.
A man in finery stepped out. "Yes, Sir?"
Cirplo stood in his sequin and jewel-encrusted get-up. He dragged a hand down his face then pointed. "Who cleaned here?"
"I-I dunno, Sir. Did they botch it-?"
"Check this! My Netherite Azcanitian vase is three inches too forward!"
"My bad, Sir…" He stood there like an ass. Too much of an idiot to grasp how big a deal this was. "Want me to-?"
Cirplo hurled him by the shoulders. The firepit was too high to land on, but his skull caved against netherrack that melted his face. He fell howling and Cirplo kicked him savagely, not stopping until he heard the spine crack. With effort, he calmed enough to straighten his swish of dark hair. Breathe in deeply, breathe out. The downed guy whimpered. A guard ran in.
"Rekt. Get this bitch outta here," Cirplo waved his hand, turning and straightening out his jacket. "Also, kill one of the cleaning girls."
Cirplo was a lot of things - not least of which a balls-to-wall, fucking psychopath.
"Righto, Sir." The guard hooked the man's underarms. Then he gave the reason for his appearance, "Zenzone just pulled up."
"By all means, send him in."
The guard nodded, dragging the wasted guy out.
Cirplo rested hands on his waist, staring into the spitting fire. He heard chinking boots and turned to an absolute unit of a man. Boots, bandana, sunglasses and cowboy hat were all in black. He twisted his fingerless gloves, steel knuckle-busters gleaming.
"You called."
"Where's your escort?" Cirplo stared for another second before breaking into chuckles and wagging his finger. "Wasted him, didn't you?" Jovially, he mock-punched his hand, twisting low. He bit his lip with a good-natured smile as he straightened out. "So why didn't you vibe with this one?"
"Talked too much."
"Guy was mute."
"His eyes said plenty. Didn't like his look."
"If I recall you did in the last guy for looking at his boots too much and mumbling."
"You keep sending me clowns." Zenzone shrugged.
"So next guy should be mute and blind? How long are we gonna play this game until it's like you're not being escorted at all?"
"I don't play well with others."
"Don't be salty. You're the most skits hitman I have at the moment. As it is, you're so boss I need a guy to tail you while you're on my island."
"Is that right?"
"But no biggie." He waved breezily. "I just got a letter from some dude called Starganade, he's the appointed governor of a rinky-dink new township called Los Sanatos. The kingdom's furthest reach so far." Cirplo walked to a table and opened the pristinely folded paper. "My good pal Jondy is there so I'm sending you to nab him. It's a job so you get to be all on your lonesome again."
"Back up a minute… did you say nab him?"
"Kill him if you like, but that makes your job harder. Jondy is one of the Immortal Six. He'll reincarnate from his last respawn point so you'll have to track him all over. If I know Jondy, and I do, his worst fear is being locked up, not death."
"When do I bizzounce?"
"Your ride is waiting for you on Sanshi River."
Without another word Zenzone was out. The jazz started up once more. Cirplo started snapping his fingers again and dancing slow, then moonwalking in the glow of all that fire.
Bacon fell into his table. His ass sank back in his chair and he raised the bottle, a single drop of whisky touched his tongue. Pink-faced and watery-eyed, he hurled the bottle across his one-room house. Not even satisfied by a break, the bottle bounced instead. Bacon clutched his head.
Testificates like him were highly susceptible to alcohol addiction. He'd never risked a drop before Jondy came into his life and screwed him over twice. Bacon had bought his first drink sure, but he never intended to drink it. He wanted to blend in while digging up dirt on Jondy. To be brutally honest, that night he'd felt a different high that was even more addictive than alcohol.
He'd felt alive.
In a burlap sack below his bed was the gold ingot Jondy gave him. One of Howitzer's. Bacon hadn't tried again to rat out Jondy. Instead he'd been caught drunk on the job twice that week, and while his supervisor kept letting him off it was only a matter of time before Starganade made good on his word and fired him. Bye bye, security. Bye, new life.
More than anything, Bacon wanted to hang out with Jondy again. He wanted the rush of living as a rough-and-tumble outlaw. Follow the man who infuriated all then smooth-talked his way back into their good graces.
As if in answer to his prayer he heard a gunshot. Bacon dived for the door, tripped over his leg then got off the floor and outside. He ran to the commotion which was at the Hydra, obviously.
A cigar burned on the dirt by Deputy Shark's boot, evidently having fallen from his slackjawed mouth. A bullethole was through his hat, dead center. Shark worked his jaw open and shut then staggered backwards. The sharp-shooter was a tower of a man, bigger than Knockout even, and all in black.
"About to get pwned, newcomer." Wolfie said, arming his crossbow. Countless others on the dirt street pulled and cocked their guns.
"The name's Zenzone." The guy had balls of steel. He holstered his gun then took out a roll of paper, unraveling a wanted poster. "I'm here for Jondy. I know he's lying low here. Well, Jondy?" Those sunglasses perused the armed street-goers, "Come out, come out, wherever you are…"
The liquid courage, or liquid dumbassery, made Bacon boldly step out and speak up. "What -hic- you want with Jondy?"
Zenzone turned his head. Bacon realized he'd sounded too loyal.
"He a pal of yours, soyboy?"
Those boots chinked on approach, that shadow loomed over the sun. Even through his curtain of inebriation Bacon could sense that Zenzone was different to all the other outlaw citizens. He knew then that this guy had killed plenty and thought nothing of it - he was proper badass. Bacon lost his voice. He heard him breathe in through teeth. "Where's Jondy?"
"It's no skin off my ass, dealing with your type."
Like a myth or prayer, Jondy appeared with perfect timing. He rolled himself around a shoppe corner, arms crossed, hat tilted. A scowl on his stubbled jaw.
Something happened when Jondy and Zenzone made eye contact for the first time, even though the big guy wore shades. Everything felt next level serious somehow.
"I want my bounty. You can come quietly or make a fuss… Please make a fuss."
"Why not try out that quickdraw on me?" Jondy's hand hovered over his holster.
"Nice try." Zenzone's smirk was barely distinguishable over the bandana. "Cirplo sent me."
That name made an uncharacteristic urgency come over Jondy's frosty blues. What was happening, Bacon thought to himself. He'd genuinely believed nothing could make Jondy lose his cockiness. He barely knew the guy, and yet he thought he'd known him completely. Bacon swayed as Zenzone edged over. "Cirplo is your buddy, right?"
Jondy's crafty eyes scanned the townsfolk who were all pouting, guns still trained on the newcomer. He could rely on their help but not if they caught wind of the coins on his head.
"You came out all the way here for Jondy?" Diablo asked. "Based, what's he worth?"
Jondy grabbed his gun and Bacon saw a blur then a thick forearm wedged under his chin, crushing his throat. He froze, eyes popping, hands gripping the ironclad limb. Jondy smirked and tossed his gun away.
Seeing that, Zenzone shoved Bacon who stumbled and fell again. He threw his gun down as well. The watching townspeople relaxed but kept their guns drawn. Both men squared up, fingers wiggling at their sides.
They charged like bulls and met in the middle.
There was scuffling, twisting and grabbing. Zenzone was a good head taller and much wider, honestly what was Jondy thinking. He was yanked up, his back thrown onto a barrel, splintering it. Jondy's hat rolled off, his hair gleaming gold in the sun. Zenzone yeeted him and he flew several feet. Jondy rolled onto his back, grimacing.
Zenzone approached too confidently then leapt back as Jondy swung a knife. He kept swinging, getting his feet under him. Zenzone kicked his wrist and the blade flew. Jondy swore and tackled his middle. Those watching began to cheer, only Bacon was proper worried.
Zenzone was forced to back up a few steps, then he grabbed Jondy and spun, his legs flying out and kicking. He tossed him again and Jondy skidded several paces, coughing dust. Zenzone stalked after him but the whole fight had been a ploy for Jondy to work his way back to his gun. Jondy leapt up, crossed the few yards to his pistol, raised and fired. Zenzone was bloody fast and had already ducked behind a corner. Bullets whizzed by, one clanging the tinny sign of the butcher's and it swung creakily on chains. Jondy went to the back of the building, leant against the wall, pointing his gun up with both hands.
Everyone started to scatter, nervous by the gunshots. Bacon stayed standing on the crossroad like a drunk, dumbfounded idiot. From his vantage he saw Zenzone creep by a window. Both men were sliding toward the same corner. Before Bacon found his voice, Zenzone spun around and knocked away Jondy's weapon again, then grabbed and headbutted him. Jondy's nose burst, gushing blood. Clamping both arms to his body, Zenzone yeeted him upwards and Jondy flailed, catching the roof and swinging himself up.
"Jondy!" Hazzard threw his pistol and Jondy caught it mid-sprint.
Bacon stumbled back, crunching little stones into the dusty road, blinking in the sunlight. Jondy was now running and jumping across shop roofs along Main Street, the only street. Zenzone jumped, kicked in a window then hiked himself up. He ducked behind a gabled roof as Jondy fired. Jondy kept up his springfooted leaps, pointing back and firing. While Zenzone was ducking frequently, he was springing after Jondy too, not letting him get far.
Dude was the Terminator.
Bacon realized Jondy was gunning for the Platos' horse station, but while backing up on Perconia's shop Jondy fell through the roof. Zenzone slid down rattling tiles and leapt off, nailed the landing then charged inside.
There was a BANG followed by breaking and scrummaging. The joint was getting trashed and Bacon recognised the owner from the blur of her white dress. She raced over and Bacon finally took action, cutting across and catching her arm. She tugged against him, free hand swiping for her store. Things continued to break and splinter, then Jondy was thrown into the door and it came off its hinges, carrying him down the steps like a bobsled. Then Jondy tumbled off, bruised and bleeding.
Zenzone stood in the doorway, fitting on steel knuckle-busters before stepping out.
A small crowd joined Bacon and Perconia who'd momentarily stalled. Then Perconia pulled a gun from someone's holster and fired. There was a burst of blood from Zenzone's raised arm, three fingers were blown off his left hand. He staggered into the doorframe, clutching his wrist as blood poured from the wound. Perconia lowered the smoking pistol.
"Bloody hell." Jondy scrambled up and took the opportunity to bail.
"Oy!" Perconia chased him.
Bewildered, Bacon chased them both.
They ran the length of Main Street and Jondy kicked open a wooden gate. He freed the leash of a Plato horse, swung up on the saddle and whipped the reins. Perconia and Bacon had to jump apart as he came galloping out on a black steed. Strands of Perconia's blonde were in disarray as she looked back, then made for a white mare and swung herself on.
Bacon found himself accidentally blocking her way.
"Get on!" she yelled.
He didn't do it right, slizzard as he was, he merely jumped so as to hang over its back. Perconia whipped the reins and chased after Jondy before he could disappear into the sunset. Bacon was staring at the ground as they jostled, no thoughts and only holding back yorking.