If any of you love westerns, like I do, then you may watch MeTV on Saturdays, as I do. I love imagining what would happen if some characters from one show met characters from another show, so I finally decided to just write that myself. So here you have it, a MeTV mash-up, combining all the shows that are played on MeTV on Saturdays, and maybe even some bonus westerns. One disclaimer I will say is that I am much more familiar with some of these shows than with others, so if I ever write something that is incorrect about any of the shows, feel free to correct me. I hope you enjoy!
The lone rider was a conspicuous shadow against the blue sky and sandy expanse of sagebrush. The bright sun beat down on his dark form, and he wiped the moisture wearily from his forehead. The tired horse stumbled, and this finally convinced the rider that he should take a rest. Halting, he climbed off of his mount and took a small drink from his canteen, savouring each drop. Something glinted on his holster, and if an observer had been close enough, he might have seen that it was an engraving of a knight from a chess game. After the stranger had fully appreciated his drink, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled note. He reread it carefully, then, wiping his forehead one last time, he remounted and continued on his way.
"Aaand a full house beats three of a kind, so I'd say that means I'm the winner." A self-satisfied gambler collected his winnings, but one of the other players didn't look too happy.
"It's mighty bad taste when a cheat gets rewarded for his cheatin'," he grumbled loudly. The man who had won paused in gathering his money, and looking up at the man with a pleasant smile, he responded,
"It's mighty bad taste to call a man a cheat."
"Not if it's the truth." The whole bar had grown still and tense, waiting for one or the other to make a move for his gun. However, before anything could happen, the winner said with a shrug,
"Well, this much money ain't worth gettin' killed over. You just tell me what you lost and I'll pay you back." The complaining man stood stunned by surprise, and finally said gruffly,
"I lost ten dollars." The winner jovially counted the bills, and then smiling widely handed them back to the man.
"There we are, that should be right. And here's an extra dollar for the trouble." With a wave and a smile, the gambler walked out of the saloon, leaving all its patronizers mystified.
As he walked out the door, a voice came from his side: "You know, Brother Bret, if you keep up this gambling habit, it might become dangerous for your health." Without missing a beat, Bret answered,
"Look who's talking, Brother Bart." Then with an ear-splitting grin, he swung around to slap the man on the back. "It's good to see you, Bart! What brought you into town?"
"Oh, just a rumor that some no-good gambler was using his talents to rob the whole town. I figured that description just matched you."
"Well, I'm flattered, Brother Bart."
"What brought you into town?" asked Bart.
"Oh, just a rumor that there was a town here just waiting to get robbed." Both men laughed aloud and made their way together across the street to the hotel.
Just as they disappeared inside, two men on horseback came riding into town. One, an old whiskered fellow, was jabbering a mile a minute to the other rider at his side, a young handsome man riding an appaloosa.
"I tell you, Flint, I got all those supplies that the Major said I didn't. I think Bill must have sneaked in and took off with 'em, just so's I'd have to make another trip into town. That no good-"
"Oh, come on, Charlie, just admit that you forgot to get a few things when you came in here. It would make it easier on both of us." Charlie opened his mouth in offense, then closed his mouth and mumbled to himself,
"Someday I'm just going to up and quit this outfit and see how they like me when I'm not around to cook anymore." Flint smiled to himself.
They found the general store and entered, Charlie still grumbling to himself. The friendly store-keeper asked,
"Can I help you gents with anything?" Flint looked pointedly at Charlie who was still sulking, and he said petulantly,
"Well don't look at me! I got my supplies, and that Bill's the one that stole 'em!" Finally, after a moment's pause, he relented. "Alright, maybe I did forget a few supplies. But it was that darn little kid that smiled at me and made me forget why I was here, that's whose fault it was!" The store-keeper and Flint shared a meaningful look.
Just then, a young, light-haired cowboy walked in the door. Spying Flint and Charlie, he approached them both. "Are you the two from the wagon train that's camped nearby?" Flint approached with an outstretched hand.
"That's right. I'm Flint McCullough, scout for the wagon train, and this is Charlie Wooster, our cook." The cowboy shook Flint's offered hand and replied.
"Nice to meet you both. I'm Heath Barkley, and I own a ranch nearby." He paused, looking uncomfortable, and in the silence that followed, Flint asked,
"Can we help you with something?" He didn't reply immediately, but finally he said,
"Is there a man travelling with your train by the name of Jesse Jones?" Flint thought a moment, then answered,
"Yes, he's, uh, joined up with the Anderson family. Is he a friend of yours?"
"Not likely," snarled Heath. "He's wanted for murder."