High Noon

In Promo by Luke Storm

It’s high noon.

Two gunslingers, Ace and Jim, stand in the middle of town facing one another. They’ve been here before, stood in this exact same spot time and time again.

Each one of them knows exactly what the other will do as their fingers dance across the grip of their weapons.

Everybody watching knows that Ace has the advantage. He’s got an endless arsenal of weapons to deploy. That gun on his hip is his weakest weapon, bound to his weak hand.

But that’s his whole deal. He shackles himself to the rules of the duel, knowing that he could break them in a heartbeat and escape unscathed. He’s the most powerful person in the town, but he would rather spend his time playing around than completing his mission.

What is his mission? To take over everything, of course.

Is there any other?

Ace is a real bastard, just like that mealy-mouthed cunt Sigil.

Yeah, me and Sigil have been around the block. Time and time again we’ve dueled in the middle of the ring, and I’d like to think we know each other pretty well.

But don’t for a second think I don’t know that Sigil could end it in a heartbeat.

His little satchel has endless toys that I couldn’t counter. Legacy lurks around every corner.

And who can forget the crystals?

Yet he keeps his veiny fingers wrapped around his weakest weapon.

Himself.

Because he eschews his power when he gets into the ring, choosing to lower himself to a duel with a normal guy like me.

Dicking around instead of getting that last crystal.

But it’s still high noon. Ace and Jim are still ready to fire.

It didn’t have to be this way. Ace could have ended it hours ago, but he didn’t. So now his life is in Jim’s hand.

Regular ass human Jim.

How does it feel, Sigil, knowing that your life is in regular ass human Luke Storm’s hands?

It didn’t have to be this way, but you are walking into the ring with me one more time. You could end it in a heartbeat, but you’re content to wait for the signal to draw.

Ding ding, motherfucker.

Draw your shit, Ace, and step up to ole Hollywood. I ain’t scared, because I know you ain’t bringing your best.

No crystals.

No Legacy.

No satchel.

Just an empty Collection against the Real fucking Deal.

So let’s finish the story this week.

It’s still high noon, Sigil, but soon we won’t be standing. You’ll draw your weak weapon with your weaker hand. Just as you aim to end it, you’ll look down and see the hole in your chest.

Because lightning strikes faster than the eye can see.

So as you fall to the ground, clutching your satchel, I want you to remember that it don’t matter how powerful you are if you don’t use it.

You want to fight like a man, then you’ll die like one.

And Ace will lose the duel to regular ass Jim.

Just another Hollywood Happy Ending!