The Cowboy

The cowboy walked through the hostile, lava landscape. There was a man here he needed to kill. There he was: running away. The cowboy pulled out his antique gun and blasted the man’s ankle off.

“P-p-please don’t kill me,” said the man as he lay next to a pool of lava.

The cowboy spat a hunk of brown tobacco goop at the man’s face.

“You shouldn’t have gone and started that war boy,” said the cowboy. “You made a lot of people die that day.”

The cowboy shot the man in the head and walked back to his cybotic space horse.

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The cowboy sat in a space bar and downed shots of Xerozine-Z whilst a band of creatures with trumpets for faces played music.

“I’ve got to kill them all!” he shouted at the barman. “All the war criminals! That’s the only way things'll be put right! That'll stop the killing! I've got to kill them all!”

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The cowboy walked through the hostile, Arctic landscape. There was a man here he needed to kill. There he was: running away. The cowboy pulled out his antique gun and blasted the man’s ankle off.

“P-p-please don’t kill me,” said the man as he lay in the thick snow.

The cowboy spat a hunk of brown tobacco goop at the man’s face.

“You shouldn’t have gone and started that war boy,” said the cowboy. “You made a lot of people die that day.”

The cowboy shot the man in the head and walked back to his cybotic space horse.

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“The only way to achieve peace is down the barrel of the gun!” declared the cowboy.

“You are wrong,” said the wheel-faced pacifist leader of the Vadlarian Delegation. “Violence only breeds violence which only breeds more violence.”

The cowboy spat a hunk of tobacco on the floor and jabbed his finger at the pacifist’s chest.

“No! You are wrong! Not me! Stand up for your beliefs you chickenshit!”

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The cowboy walked through the hostile, jungle landscape. There was a man here he needed to kill. There he was: running away. The cowboy pulled out his antique gun and blasted the man’s ankle off.

“P-p-please don’t kill me,” said the man as he lay in the thick mud.

The cowboy spat a hunk of brown tobacco goop at the man’s face.

“You shouldn’t have gone and started that war boy,” said the cowboy. “You made a lot of people die that day.”

The cowboy shot the man in the head and walked back to his cybotic space horse.

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“Damn you!” shouted the cowboy, banging his fist on a bar room table as he stared at the vidscreen.

“War declared today on the peaceful people of Vadlaria,” said the vidscreen. “Earth Empire War Bricks will level their pacifist civilisation to dust in less than three hours, and the people of Vadlaria will be lobotomised for comedy and humiliation purposes.”

“I warned them!” the cowboy shouted, knocking over the table and spitting out a hunk of tobacco goop. 

“Peace can only be achieved down the barrel of a gun!”

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