Writing The Western Update XIV: Dante Egg Just Gives Up
There are times when this world stops making sense and there's nothing any of us can do about it. When that happens, I just stand there and scowl. Then I get a drink. Or several. But out here, self medicating is frowned upon. No decent whiskey for miles and miles. Dammit. I trudged back into town from the massacre at the farmhouse. I'd hoped that when folks heard about what Sherwood had done in the name of his story, the ones who knew something would be moved to come forward, if only to bring The Author to justice. But when I got there...
Oh, God... the bodies.
This wasn't a crime scene. It was a war zone. I stopped counting around fifty. The center of the town had been decimated. Buildings destroyed. Burned. Gutted. Men, women, children...
Tell me, Sherwood, how does this fit into your overarching plan? Is this how you make a Happy Ending? Is it? Unless...
Unless your are even more nefarious than I thought. There's no hope for any of us, is there? We just wander around, according to your whims, waiting for whatever gruesome demise you have in store for us? No one lives Happily Ever After.
What's the point then? My role is a joke. This story is a farce. Right and Wrong. Law and Order. Justice. These things mean nothing anymore.
My job here is done. I leave my badge in the dust. You win, Sherwood. You win.
Of course, when I told Da Chief all this, he just laughed. "A war zone? Yeah, this ain't the first time Sherwood's done something like this. Don't worry about it, Egg, just fill out the report and send it over to Sgt. Jack Balls at the Municipal Defense Department. They'll handle it."
"But what about our case against Sherwood? How can we hope to stop someone who's capable of so much death and destruction?"
"Buck up Egg. It's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it. You stay on Sherwood like a strained metaphor on purple prose. Keep tabs on everything he does. Go off the rails if you have to. Bend the rules- or his fingers. I don't care. Because when we finally catch up with The Author- and we will- there's no hocus pocus he can possibly do that will ever let him see the light of day again."
He stood up and pulled on his coat and hat. "C'mon, Egg. I'll buy you a drink. You heard a weather forecast? Looks like you could use a good, long sulk in the rain."