Well Now!

Do you people want me to tell you the wonderful, most interesting, absolutely riveting highlights of my life? No?! Well, I don't blame you. It's quite dry actually. There's not really any life-changing stories, or tear-jerking experiences either. Wow. I am lame. But you should know that while I am here waiting for me life to begin I will entertain you with a story. This one involves a high-adventure rouge named Oliver Sans. He thought he was the greatest, the most dashing, the infamous extraordinaire! The women thought he was the criminal to steal away their hearts and live happily ever after with. This is where I point out to you how stupid some women are. Ahem ladies, a thief isn't interested in ONE of anything, which includes the women-folk. Anyway, this Oliver Sans was out riding with his trusty horse Ma'am and they came across a spunky little town on the river side. Oliver almost immediately was recognized by the single chicas and swarmed like a piece of cowpie on a hot summer day. He was getting mighty annoyed by the flitter-tee-gibbits and pulled out his rifle."Now if ya'll seedlings don't scram I'ma pull my rusty trigger enough so's we don't see no more whole pieces of flesh!" Let's just say the women were not amused and ran away in a real pathetic fashion, kickin' and screamin' all the way. All except for one. Now this gal's name was Anna Bee Jane and she don't take  crap from run-down renegades like Oliver Sans. She pulled out her pistol, pointed it right at Ma'am and said, "Mighty gee dumplin'! Yur horse looky like she's lustin for some steel! Lucky for her, I got plenty in my here gun!" Oliver Sans wasn't too keen on some humpty dumpty foxy lady telling him what was what and he swung the rifle over so fast and sure-like a sonic boom erupted into a swirl of smoke. "You der wo-man don't go tellin Master Sans what to do! You'll know what's good fer ya when you can count the teeth remainin' in yer mouth and come up with the real good figure of three!" And off he fired his gun!  Miss Anna Bee Jane, at that exact instant, squooze the trigger of her pistol, aimin right for Oliver San's trusty rusty rifle. Now a strange thing occurred here that no one can explain by science. The bullet in the pistol did a sort of ginormous explosion and traveled so fast as to beat the rifle's round. It spun it's way straight down Oliver San's rifle barrel and collided with the round to create such a ginormous explosion to be heard throughout the entire hee-doggin' town. Oliver Sans screamed in agony as his trusty gun fell to ruin by his side and fury sparkled into an engulfing flame towards miss Anna Bee Jane. Words refused to satisfy the Oliver San's rage and he reached down for his pocket knife stowed in his right boot. With a distorted face full of hatred, he threw his knife with all the strength and adrenaline a man can muster. Anna Bee Jane wasn't having none of that, so she lifted her pistol one last time and shot Mister Oliver Sans right dag-gum in the foot. Then she hee-hawed the sheriff and hauled his no good hind pots off to the County Jail. Here Oliver Sans still remains. You can recognize the frozen sneer on his mug and the silver ball embedded in his heel. All thanks to Miss Anna Bee Jane. THE END:)