https://youtu.be/7SKyU1k7juw

One Hundred Degrees

Only been a couple of hours Red Rock and you're already beginning to squeal like a rat, but it's hard to hear what you're saying with all that blood running through your teeth, so who is this Denver you seem to be burbling about?

Never heard of the son of a gun, I'm guessing you are pretending to hallucinate, so you can ruin my fun, or is it all part of another devious escape plot?

Every time I lay a trap, you seem to worm your way out, but your little ruse ain't gonna help you this time, I'm more than happy to sit here and watch you wriggling on the end of my fishing line, like a slippery trout.

Hissing like a snake Medicine Man spat out, what do you mean my war paint makes me look like a dried-up mud pie? Whatever, you have nothing, like me baking in the oven, so happy hunting paleface, enjoy your slow ride to ghost mountain, they say it's a long hot ride, full of demons and things, so you best be on the lookout.

Unbelievable son, you spend a lifetime running away from me, now you come here with your voodoo princess, who you married against my best advice, and now you think the pair of you can blackmail me into turning the other way, that's rich, coming from the family dropout.

Don't begin to believe there's a chance in hell of that happening while there is one drop of Rothschild blood flowing through these old veins of mine, you think I'm going to forget what you said about the Civil War and that you threatened to tell the world about it, the stress has resulted in a flare-up of my gout.

Dad, if it's not me who leaks the story, there will come a day when someone else will open the world's eyes to the harsh reality, that it and the revolution were both funded by a bunch of wealthy and powerful pseudo Europeans, who have now got their fingers in every pie, and the muffin bakery is running flat-out.

Rothschilds are a stealthy society that spreads like a virus, supported by those other old rich families it financed and sadly there is no light at the end of the tunnel due to humanity's natural tendency toward greed, so there's little motivation toward finding a cure that will help root it out.

Everywhere you look it's the same, a nest of vipers control the infrastructure, finance, fuel, transport, and weapons, a dream sold to the people on the premise that this is a land of the free, one day this dynasty will fall, but as always it will be the backbone of our great nation, the working people who will be the ones to suffer most by their rout.

Denver scratched his head, he didn't know what was going on and began talking to himself again. I'm so damn confused, been having full-on conversations with people, who can't possibly be here, and as far as I can recall we were on our way to Busted Gulch, and can only think that I've fallen off Nugget and given my head, another almighty clout.

Darling, I hope and pray you can hear me, it may not seem it, but I'm doing my best to shout.

Each breath I take is cramping my chest like a vice, all I can see is Nugget who occasionally stops and looks at me through long grass when out of curiosity he nuzzles me with his grassy snout.

Getting very tired so I'm going to take a rest, my fingers are crossed in a wish that I awake to the sight of your beautiful face in the morning, and will say goodnight as, like candles, the stars are snuffed out.

Really can't ignore this feeling any longer boys, if your father was here he'd have already set out.

Either you stop the Liberty Belle and do something about it, or I'll be diving overboard with Ghost and swimming to the shore, to seek him out.

Easy Mum, no need to be so rash, we'll stop at the next jetty, and in the meantime, I'll organise a search party to look for the old man, it won't take me long to sort it out.

Shadow comforted Missy, there you are Mum, he was saved by the Belle, it didn't take Bart and Bret long, they found Nugget happily grazing in the Marsh, who seemed unconcerned as he casually dragged Dad through the grass, who hung limply from a stirrup, from which the boys quickly cut him loose. Apparently, it felt like he had a temperature of one hundred degrees, and as a consequence, he was so confused that no one could understand a word of his babble, so they thought it was best left for the Doc to work out.

Footnote:

This rather weirdly rhyming acrostic story was unashamedly written to acknowledge and celebrate my one hundredth BG story, it may seem a little cynical in places, but it's meant to be a bit of tongue in cheek dark humour.

Having said that, it is a landmark I'm quite proud of, as it reflects on my first story titled Medicine Man which was published circa September 2018 and ends in the present day after Denver has foolishly decided to go walkabouts.

Wow, it's only taken me around three and a half years 🤪.