The Cure

The gunshot echoed throughout the main road as onlookers watched. Rancid Rick fell to the ground the same way a doll would when dropped by a child. There were gasps and screams, but now the town had fell silent. All eyes were on Sheriff J.J. Alexander as he holstered his gun.

"When I came to this town, I was told it had a crime problem," Sheriff Alexander started to call out. "Robberies, break ins, rapes, murders, cattle rustling, the list goes on. Crime was a disease in this town. I have just given you the cure. This man was but a symptom, and with a single bullet, that symptom has been alleviated. Imagine what could be done with more."

Sheriff Alexander walked to where Rick's body had dropped and gave it a kick. When there was no response he reached down and removed the gun belt. Carefully he inspected the dull and uninteresting revolver Rick had been carrying it. Gave it a spin and fired a shot in the air. The crowd panicked again, unsure of what their new sheriff would do this time around. He added the gun back to the holster and held the gun belt high in the air.

"If I am a doctor here to administer the cure, I will need a nurse. Who will be my deputy," he waited on response from the onlookers. "Don't all be nervous now. You wanted your town cleaned up right? This is how we do it." 

"I'll be your deputy," a woman called from the window of a local brothel.

The crowd laughed. A prostitute with a sense of humor was just what they needed in a time like this. Something to lighten the mood after watching a cold blooded killing in the middle of town. Sheriff Alexander didn't laugh. Nor did the woman. In the commotion she made it down the stairs and out the building. Dressed in full burlesque attire she met the Sheriff and took the belt from his hands.

"Congratulations Deputy, I'll meet you at the station in the morning. We have some work to do," Sheriff Alexander lit a cigarette as he began his walk back to the jail.

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