He turned to whom he thought to be his last hope, the previous sheriff. King Bradley was his name, which many people thought to be humorous in the town. What mother would have the cruelty to name her American son “King,” when there was no chance that he would ever become such, unless he were to conquer Texas for his own and declare himself as king. Why isn’t Roy interrogating the author at this moment? The answer is simple. For this one part, at least, the author decided to use her powers to make everything seem less like a performance cast with the characters, but more of an actual alternate-universe story. But this was mostly because she feared Pride’s sword. Roy knocked on his former superior’s door.

“Come in,” the wife, whose mother being just as cruel as her husband’s, named her Sloth, answered as she opened the door for their guest. “Oh, Roy! What brings you here?”

”If it’s possible, I need to talk to your husband. It’s very important, ma’am.”

“Let him in,” the husband called from his armchair in the living room. Roy stepped in and looked to his predecessor in respect. The man had a slightly receding hairline and wore one eye patch over his right eye. Or was it his left…? The author is currently too lazy to check and thus, at least in this story, it’s on the right.

“Sir, Greed’s coming back for me.”

“I heard that much when I passed the church on my morning stroll. No one will help ya, eh?”

“I’m afraid not. What should I do? Better yet, what would you do?”

”If I were you,” the ex-sheriff began, beckoning Roy to light his cigar. He quickly did so, and the old man continued his speech. “I’d leave town. Get out of here. You said the guy has three scoundrels after you?”

”Yes, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“There’s no way a man can face them alone. Say, what about your wife? I heard she was a good shot before she went Quaker, whatever that is.”

“She…” it pained Roy to say this, especially when it had been only but an hour since the couple was united in matrimony. “She said that if I fight, she’d leave me. She’s got her bags already packed for the noon train, the same one Greed’s coming on.”

“Well,” Bradley said, “I say go with her, if you’re man enough. Either way, it’s not safe for ya here.”

“I’m afraid I can’t run. If I do, Riza and I will be on the road the rest of our lives, and that’s no life for someone like her.”

“She’s a tough lass, I think she’s willing. What she won’t put up with is a stubborn bull like you’re being right now.”

Speaking of the aforementioned “tough lass,” Riza Hawkeye, now as of that morning Mrs. Riza Hawkeye Mustang, stood impatiently in the lobby of an apartment building. Her white dress didn’t differ much in color or style from her wedding dress that she had worn but an hour ago, and rather than her usual “clipping the hair behind her head” look, her gold locks were in two braids tied together behind her head, the end of the tail tucked behind one of the two braids. The man at the front of the lobby finally looked up and asked what she needed.

“I’d like to see Miss Ramirez, if she’s here.”

CUT!

“Since when did I have a last name? And Ramirez?” Lust questioned the author.

“Look, that’s the last name of the sheriff’s ex in the story, so I improvised. You’ll only be called that once in the entire thing, got it?”

Continuing with the story, the man replied quickly to Riza’s request.

“Oh, Lust? Yeah, she’s still here. Her room’s the third one to the left on the second floor.”

“Thank you,” Riza answered graciously and, picking up her skirt slightly so as it wouldn’t drag on the ground, she ran up the stairs to the third door on the left, and knocked. A very attractive, well-endowed woman answered the door. She was clad in a black dress that, I won’t lie, was rather low-cut, but still covered the ouroboros tattoo just above her left breast.

“Please, come in.”

Riza stepped into the apartment, almost reluctantly, and stood at one side.

“You can sit down, you know.”

“No thank you,” was Riza’s reply. “If I sit down, I might not get up again.”

“Roy’s pissed you off already, huh?” Lust wore a very unsurprised look on her face.

“I just don’t understand him!” she exclaimed in frustration. “We were married an hour ago. We had our bags, tickets, and everything, but then this had to come up! I begged him to run, but he refuses. Says a life on the run is no life for a lady.”

“So you’re leaving him, after only being married an hour?” Lust asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What choice do I have?”

”I’m not ragging on you or anything, but if he were my man, I’d stand up and fight beside him, no matter who or what it was, Quaker or not.”

“I saw my father and brother die by gunshot. My brother was only nineteen. I just think there’s a better – wait, wait, wait! Now it’s my turn to cut off the storyline. Who wrote this?!”

The author called for a cut scene… again.

“Riza, after Roy ruined the church scene and doubtless would’ve taken reign of the asking for advice scene earlier, you can do what you want, girl.” The author shrugged. “Besides, I never expected you to fit perfectly into the character of the wife to begin with; she’s kind of a pansy until near the end.”

“Secondly, what is a Quaker?”

“It’s a religious person who is vegetarian, believes that going to church isn’t necessary to still be close to God, and doesn’t believe in violence, even for self-defense (no offense if I have anything over-stereotyped)”

“Wouldn’t that describe you?” she asked, arms folded and staring flatly at the author.

“No, no, I’m Mormon; and I do too eat meat! And we do fight to defend ourselves, we just usually don’t start it. They just didn’t instigate the fighting most of the time.”

“Then screw that notion; can I just say that Roy’s being his usual stubborn self and it’s pissing me off?”

“Go right ahead, it’s all yours now.”

“Wait, when did I have a brother?” Riza denounced her prior words, now returning to the regular storyline. “The point is, he’s just… ugh! Doesn’t he see that he can’t take them on on his own? Has he gone mad?!” Shocking everybody on the sidelines watching this and even the author, tears actually began to slowly stream from her eyes.

“Well with the ‘no life for a lady’ comment, it sounds like Roy’s either stupid or stupid in love. Then it would explain why he married you… Say, if you still wanna leave him, I’m going on the same train as you. I hate this town, and it’s about time I get out.”

“Sure, why not? Maybe if he survives he’ll be smart enough to come after me.”

Shortly afterward, the two women left in a horse buggy for the train station, bags and all.