There was Gene, standing before a large group of angry, vicious men who'd no sooner punch their mothers in the face and call it a day. It was as though almost everyone wanted a piece of the guy who was causing trouble in their bar. This didn't bother him in the slightest... in fact, something about this made him excited to be here. He thought this town would be boring... but if there were losers like these here to knock around, maybe things will be looking up.
Besides, he needed some stress relief after dealing with Olivia, who has quickly proven to be a bother to him. And due to the Godhand, he wasn't allowed to get away from her. The thought of being stuck with her as long as he had this mystical arm, it aggravated him to no end since he got off the train, but now that he had some people to beat up, he could work off the anger he felt about it by taking it out on these clowns.
For that matter, Olivia mentioned the Godhand was pretty powerful... Gene wondered about that, if what she said was real. When she told him all about these godhands, he didn't really believe her. It seemed like a bunch of baloney she made up. He also wondered just how she got the arm attached to his body. Or was it really just the arm he had been born with? He could have sworn he lost it. When he thought about this on the train, none of it seemed to make any sense, yet he felt he had to know somehow.
Oh well. There was no time to worry about that right now. He had more pressing concerns... like who's face he should rearrange first. He'll ask Olivia about this other stuff later.
"So... are you all gonna come all at once for an orgy of beatdowns," Gene taunted at the group, voice practically oozing cockiness, "or are you just going to come and get manhandled one at a time? Either way, you get the crap kicked out of you."
His response? All the thugs letting out a fierce battle cry as they charge at Gene all at once, those with weapons preparing them for brutalizing and injury. As they surrounded Gene, they began attacking him from various sides, thinking that the numbers game would end this guy quick. But they did not know Gene... he wasn't any average guy who just walks in and picks a fight and then gets his butt kicked.
Well, maybe at one point he was. But that was so long ago that he doesn't remember it anymore. And it's not really terribly important to this story anyways, who gives a crap?
As two thugs ran in to swipe at Gene at the same time, their target leaped over them, taking a temporary hold on their heads with both his hands, only to push off them and land a flying dropkick into the chest of one thug who was carrying a pair of axes, making him crash into three other thugs. One other thug decorated with feathers and a leather jacket then ran in from the side with a lead pipe, but Gene anticipated him, and threw the switchblade knife from Mr. Eyepatch that he still had in his hand, clocking him between the eyes with the blunt end and making him lose his concentration. This small opening is all Gene needed to close in and punch him in the gut, and then spin on his heel and kick him hard in the face, the blow throwing him to the floor.
A larger, muscular man then grabbed Gene from behind and rose him over his head, roaring as he threw him across the room. Gene slammed into a nearby table occupied by cards and poker chips, which buckled and collapsed into a mess with the impact of his weight, throwing it's contents into the air and to the floor. This took Gene off his guard for a moment to allow one of the thugs to leap in and punch Gene in the jaw a few times, but he held his footing and retaliated after the second punch with a fierce right hook, then grabbed the thug by his hair and elbowed him in the face before swiftly grabbing a chair and smashing it against his head, causing him to start bleeding from a cut opened in his forehead. Gene then tossed the man into a group of two men who tried to come to the poor fool's aid, causing them all to go tumbling down.
As this went on and intensified, the nervous bartender reached for a phone hidden behind the bar and began dialing a number. Holding onto it tightly, he anxiously waited for someone to pick up, hearing the ring tone start... a few rings later, it was picked up. "Hello? Sheriff? There's a huge fight in my bar!" A glass came flying out and smashed into pieces just above him into a wall, making him cry in surprise before he returned to the phone, "I don't care what you do, just help me right away, please!"
At that moment, another thug who just got his ass handed to him by the man in the hooded trenchcoat landed on top of the bar counter, and his arm draped over right next to the bartender, making him fall backward. He then turned to phone again and shouted into the speaker, "Yes! As soon as you can!"
Gene backed off from a group who were trying to attack him all at once. One of them closed in and threw a fierce punch at our hero, but he bobbed out of the way in time for the guy's fist to collide with one of the unaffiliated gents also occupying the bar, knocking the poor man out. His girlfriend, a small, lithe-seeming girl, angrily took offense to that and got up, "You bastard! That was my fiancée! Only I can kick the crap out of him!" she declared.
With that, she fiercely decked the thug across the face and sent him falling back into another random person, who spilled his beer on another guy, getting him wet with alcohol. Angry at this, he punches the spilled-beer guy as well! Needless to say, this began a chain reaction that soon involved everyone inside the bar, and now practically everybody was fighting and beating up each other all around, much to the bartender's chagrin.
"Damn it!" The tender growled, watching the chaos unfold before his eyes, "I thought this sort of thing only happened in movies!" He moaned in agony as various occupants used whatever they could get a hold of as a weapon and trash the poor man's bar up as they continued brawling, a moment he felt was lasting forever at this rate. The action was so frenzied and furious that now Gene was lost in the crowd, though he was still there and duking it out with the gang he picked a fight with.
To the bartender's relief, however, he would soon hear the sounds of sirens approaching the bar several minutes later, and thanking the divine powers that be for sending someone to deal with the rampage. The sheriff was here to stop all the insanity, and to put an end to the craziness that took over his bar...
The incident would be quickly and swiftly taken care of, indeed.
After everything was over, Gene soon found himself laying on his back on the bed hanging a couple feet off the floor of his jail cell, attached to the wall thanks to some strong chains. He was resting with a few bruises he obtained from his battles, using his arms as a makeshift pillow behind his head and with one leg propped up on top of his thigh. He wished the accommodations of his cell were more welcoming; he didn't even get a pillow or a toilet in his, and it was cold, musty, and smelled horrible... probably because the last person inside it hurled all over the floor and then lost control of his bladder on top of it, so the smell of both hadn't gone away yet. He wasn't too distraught over how things turned out, though, or bothered by the smell. At least it was better than sitting on that train with Olivia, he thought. It's been hours since the incident at the saloon ended, by now, it was practically night time... not that Gene would have any way of knowing that; he didn't care to keep time and there was no window in his cell.
The sound of a pair of footsteps approaching would get his attention just then, but he wouldn't bother to adjust his position or look up as they grew closer. Then they came to a stop in front of his cell, and the sound of rattling keys was heard, following by the key inserting into the lock, turning, unlocking the cell, and the door itself being loudly slid open with the creaking of gears.
"Alright, boy, get up and get outta there," a gruff voice with a southern drawl spoke, "your bail's been paid."
Gene said nothing as he changed his position and sat up, dangling his legs over his bed for a moment before shifting onto a stand with his feet, wondering for a moment who sprung him. He looked over to see that Olivia was there in front of the door, her hands on her hips and head tilted to the side, frowning at her companion for getting into trouble. Next to her was a large, muscular man in khaki pants and a blue shirt with a black leather vest draped around him, wearing a modified cowboy hat with a large red feather on one side, and a rose on the other, held there by a strap wrapped around the middle of his hat. He was glaring at Gene with a bearded face that looked like it was cut from granite and like he hadn't smiled in at least two decades.
The man had a badge of course, indicating his position as the head sheriff... it was located right on the middle of his hat. A second one was located on the right side of his vest, but it wasn't quite as intricately designed as the one on his hat... it was like this man loved to decorate his hat with all sorts of things.
"Well?" the man said, "G'wan! Get your carcass outta my jail cell, boy."
"Get off my case, will ya? I'm goin'," Gene said, irritated by the pushy sheriff, as he placed his hands in his pockets and walked out of the cell, the same sheriff closing the door shortly after. Olivia shot him a glare as she stepped over to him.
"Try not to get into trouble like that again, okay?" she then said, as they began walking down the hall of cells, following the sheriff.
"Hey, it's not my fault. Those punks are the ones who started it," Gene snapped, before changing the topic, "By the way... how'd you get the money to pay my bail? It was set to at least 3,000 gold."
"That's not important," Olivia said, dodging the question, "Right now, we need to get moving, and we can't afford any delays. Time's of the essence!"
"What's the hurry? It's not like Armageddon's gonna hit us in a few hours."
"I have reason to hurry you onward," she then looks to the sheriff while he wasn't listening in, then over to Gene, whispering to his ear, "I recognized the emblem that made up their belt buckles. It's the Black Skull gang."
"The who?" Gene whispered back.
"The Black Skull! They are infamous around these parts..." she went on to explain, "they're the guys who are rumored to be worshipping demons so that they can gain power and influence. I did a little research, and I found out that they have a tight grip around this town and several it's surrounding areas."
"A tight grip, huh?"
Olivia nodded, "If the rumors are true, do you know what this means?"
"Not really," Gene then sighed, "I don't even care. I'd like to mind my own business."
Olivia was about to speak further, but by this time they reached the sheriff's office, which was connected to the cell hallways in behind it. The sheriff then sat down in his cushy chair behind his desk with a grunt, and looked to the two youths as the chair creaked, as if groaning wearily at supporting his weight. His office was decorated with various pictures and trophies of accomplishments. This guy, before he became a sheriff, was a well-known wrestler in the ring. Gene let out a whistle at the collection of his accomplishments, impressed more by how much he collected, rather than how good he was at his professions.
"Love yourself, much?" Gene joked.
The sheriff didn't bother to even reply to that. He was too busy lighting a cigar after having placed it between his lips and then took a few puffs before blowing smoke into the air, waving the match through the air to put out the flame before tossing the match away. He then placed it back into his mouth and gave Gene a glare.
"I don't want you causing problems in my town, got it? Already you're on thin ice after that little fiasco," he growled, "You start trouble here, I clean your clock."
"Sure, if you say so," Gene said, feigning attention.
"I mean it," the gruff sheriff says in a warning tone, "You show any disrespect for justice around here, I'll be all over you so fast you'll think it's Hell on Earth."
"...are you coming on to me?"
"...just get outta here!" He roared in frustration, pointing at the door with his cigar, "Or Sheriff Rupert D. Justice is gonna make ya a dead man standin'!"
Olivia would pull Gene away by his arm before he could say anything to irritate the angry lawman even further than he already had. Soon enough, both were standing outside the building, the doors slowly slamming shut, which had a series of metal bars covering the front of them... likely to prevent any criminals from breaking out of it in case they locked it up.
"So," Gene said, looking back to the girl, "The Black Skull gang."
"Yep. The Black Skull," he responds.
"Got the town helpless."
"That they do."
"And you want me to beat them up."
"...I'm outie," Gene turned to walk off, but then he heard the piercing shriek of what sounded like a very sharp weapon unsheathed, which made him freeze in his tracks before he got too far.
"Ohhhh no," Olivia said, clutching something in her hand, "You are not going anywhere... not on my watch."
Gene turned around, and found himself staring at a large, intricately designed axe that she was holding in one hand... it's blade glinting with light, and looking like it might be hungry for flesh. She seemed pretty annoyed with Gene, giving him a rather nasty look as she clutched that menacing-looking axe.
"...where'd you get that?" He asked, somewhat nervously.
"I won't 'axe' you again," she said, frowning, as she avoided his question yet again, "you are gonna help me rid the town of these bozos. Or... I suppose I could just letcha go. However, I'll have to take the Godhand back..." she then pointed the blade of the axe at his right arm, his gaze following it, "got it?"
"..." There was a brief silence as Gene watched the axe for a few moments before finally sighing in defeat and placing a hand behind his head, frustrated, and having nothing left to argue with her on... not with that axe she held. And he didn't want a repeat incident like the one some time ago... "Fine. I'll help."
Olivia held the axe with both hands as she smiled cutely and her expression lightened, beaming happily as she got her way, and swinging her hips a bit in a particularly sexy way, "Awww, I knew you would see things my way~..."
"We'll get started tomorrow. It's awful late tonight," Olivia then said, noting the dark sky and began to walk off, "besides, I'm sure you'd like to sleep in a more comfortable place than that smelly jail."
"I've had worse, but, yeah," Gene followed, placing his hands in his pockets, wanting to quickly forget that frightening discussion took place, "You manage to get us a room?"
"I found a decent inn around here we can use while we're in town. Right over this way," she told him as she led him down the street.
"Guess that's the best thing I've heard all night so far. We are getting separate rooms, right?"
"Sorry, couldn't afford it," Olivia said, making Gene curse to himself under his breath, "We'll have to share a room," and with that, she turned her head over to him and gave him a scowl, "Don't even think about trying to spy on me while I'm undressing, okay?"
"Tch," Gene scoffed, disgusted at the very idea, "don't kid yourself."
And so, they headed on inside the inn... simply call the 'Inn and Out'. It was a painfully punny name for a little hotel, but sometimes, that's just how the business rolls. Or so they say... Gene and Olivia made their way to their rooms, which was locate on the second floor of the building. Accommodations could have been better... the floor was dusty, the room was drabbish, the two beds looked like it had seen better days, and there was a small antique TV that didn't even get cable. The bathroom itself wasn't the cleanest, but it had clean water running through it's pipes, and a shower.
At least it was nicer than the jail cell Gene was in. And it didn't smell like a stinking pit, either.
Gene, of course, was already on the bed, downing a bottle of whiskey he managed to get with what little money he had off the little bar downstairs. Once he gulped it all down, he sighed in satisfaction and laid down on the bed, folding a leg on top of the other and an arm behind his head, draping his other one, with the now-empty bottle in his hand, across his abdomen.
"Nothin' like a good drink..." Gene said with a smile, having finally managed to get some booze.
Olivia herself went to the bathroom to freshen up, having taken a hot shower to get clean... she had come back out a little while after Gene finished drinking, already back in her clothes, and drying off her hair with a towel.
"We need to think of a strategy tomorrow," Olivia then said, walking over to him as she ran the towel through her wet hair, "Find out a good way to get around to trashing these baddies."
"Who's this 'we' you keep talking about?" Gene then said, raising his head up to look to the girl, "I don't really count myself in the equation, honey-pie."
Olivia just ignored that and resumed taking, "most importantly, we need to gather information so we can figure out where the Black Skull's base is."
She then turned to Gene with a smile as she lowered the towel from her head and let it dangle along the floor in her hand, "That's where you come in."
Gene sighed and rolled his eyes with a wry grin, throwing up his hands in defeat, since he knew there was no arguing with this girl, "Right. Whaddya want me to do?"
"What you do best," she then said, "Kick some ass and make `em talk."
"You really think it's gonna be that easy?"
"Well, you do have the Godhand," she said, neatly folding the towel, "you should be able to take down those creeps with it. That is, if you're the right person to wield it."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Mmm, lemme put it this way; if you're not qualified, you can't use it," she explained, setting the towel down on the nearby table, "the Godhand can't just be used by anyone. It has to be a person with the right potential. If the host isn't suitable, the Godhand will just be like a normal arm."
She then turns back to him again, folding her arms across her chest, "Only those who are worthy of the Godhand's use will be able to use it's full power. And so far I haven't been able to determine if you're the kind of guy who can wield it."
Gene glared daggers at her, giving her a rather insulted look, "If you aren't sure, then why did you give me the damn thing in the first place?" he shouted.
"Shut up!" she then snapped, turning her head away in frustration, "I don't know! I thought... I thought you might have the potential, I guess. It's not like I can be correct on who I'm choosing. I've never really seen the Godhand in action, and I can't really tell if you're the right one to use it."
"..." Gene simply stared at her for a few minutes before relaxing his gaze and turning away from her, resting his head back on his arm, "...maybe I am, and maybe I'm not. Guess we'll find out in due time."
He then grinned as he rolled over onto his side to face her.
"I'll play along for now."
"Huh?" Olivia looked over to him.
"You want to know if I'm qualified for the Godhand's power, right?" Gene said, "So I guess I'll test it for you. Could be interesting to see what it'll be like if I can really use it."
"...well... I guesso..." Olivia slightly grinned, "anyways, let's get some rest for tonight and I'll let you go and bust some heads in the morning."
"Heh, sure," Gene then turned back around on the bed, "We'll talk it over a bit more while we're at it."
Olivia nodded. She quietly thought, YES! to herself in having managed to talk Gene into helping her with her mission... she had hoped he'd stick with it too. She didn't want him ditching with the Godhand.
Soon afterwards, both of the room's occupants were asleep in their beds... Gene, still on top of the bed, covers and all, turned over once while asleep, the bottle he had been holding onto falling out of his grip, rolling off the bed, and clanking to the floor. This noise didn't wake Olivia, though, who was sleeping under the covers of her bed with her boots off and set to the side, sleeping blissful and unaware.
A little bit later, the doorknob was rattling around for a moment, like something was moving about inside it... the sound of it's lock suddenly jolted and the door, which had been locked before, then came unlocked. The doorknob slowly turned, and the door was slowly pushed open, a slight creak coming from the door's hinges, but hopefully not enough to wake the sleeping heroes.
The door then slowly opened up all the way, revealing three familiar men, who soon came in through the open door, holding weapons... it was the men from the earlier meeting in the saloon. The very three men who Gene beat up that led to that big barfight with the other thugs they were associated with!
"...heheheh... payback time..." the eyepatched man said with an evil smile, holding a sledgehammer in his hands.