With her hands still grasping the threshold weakly, Charlotte turned her head back to Simion, who approached her from behind the bar where they had been hiding. Watching him though her clouded vision, the sheriff saw the man produce a packet of... something from his pocket. He inquired if she "needed focus" and proceeded to explain that the packet contained a Doctor Smith's patented chewing gum, containing something to help her concentrate better.

Charlotte gazed into the tin suspiciously. She had never heard of this "Doctor Smith" before. Simion's smile looked genuine, not seeming to conceal devious motives, but Charlotte found it difficult to trust him. While she wasn't the most educated person, she had lived long enough to know better than to trust people she barely knew, which was virtually everyone in Sand Flats. How could any gum help you focus? It was probably a hoax...

"No... No thank you, Simion," Charlotte decided, gently pushing the tin back to the energetic gentleman. "I'm afraid Sheriff Jackson is just going to have to trust the townsfolk with this one... But if that Rat harms anyone here..." Her eyes became filled with deeply-rooted rage. "He'll wish he was in hell with his back broken."

She lowered her gun and sighed, just as Lady Rose raced out into the street with a fury Charlotte had never seen before. She glanced out the saloon's doors to see the woman, in her dress nonetheless, racing after Rat who seemed to be making his getaway on horse. She had a knife, and with surprising accuracy, managed to slice the fugitive's saddle from ten meters away by throwing it.

Clearly this woman was more than met the eye.

As Shelly was holding Rat on point, a suspiciously cheerful individual walked out with a grin, his oriental clothing provoking Shelly's more racist side. He calmed down for a minute before the man, Wu, mentioned this man was worth tenfold what Rose had offered. Shelly snarled in disbelief just in time when, distracted, he almost got shot by Rat as he was bloating about him being one of the Hennessey brothers.

A part of the Saloon overhung ceiling fell on him and Wu, as the dust settled he saw that Rat already vanished into a blurry shade in the night. His mask was torn from the downside, his lips were now visible, curtained by shreds of the mask. His lips scarred and growing into a sinister snarl.

"Me friend, me partner, lets split that ten thousand and split a fucking head as well." He turned to Wu as he helped him out of the wooden rubble which was extremely light, no way a few wooden planks that were worn out by wind and age could have even scratch ed the bums of two seasoned bounty hunters.

Shelly checked his pistols and reloaded the chambers as his reloading ritual was interrupted by the sight of a suspiciously well dressed man, Shelly snarled, now visible through his shredded mask.

"The butcher!" One of the fleeing drunkards whispered to Shelly as he was escaping the chaotic saloon. Shelly stood still, hands on his holsters.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Johnny shouted as his saddle was sliced by a thrown knife, resulting in him sliding on his steed as it charge out of town. Damn beast was never that loyal. Johnny dropped with a hard thud, finding no cushion in the dusty streets as he fell on his back. He moaned in pain for a second, the drinks getting in the better for him.

Slowly, he got up. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was scorching red with anger. The man clutched his revolver with furious hands, raising it at Rose.

"This how you treat your high paying customers you utter bitch!," Johnny roared. "Well I can rightly tell you one thing. After I blow your fucking brains out in front of these bumpkin fucks, I'm going to burn your goddamn saloon to the fucking ground!"

As Rat pointed his gun just right above Wu and Shelly, Wu reached for his sword and unsheathed it. By the time he pulled it out, Rat had shot a few rounds on the ceiling above them causing bits of wood and nails to fall on their heads. It did no harm but cause both Shelly and Wu to fall on their knees. Wu's hat helped, it kept most sharp nails to fall on top of the hat rather than on his head and face. Shelly seemed enthusiastic about killing Rat when he spoke of splitting the bounty and Rat's head apparently. Wu stood and coughed out the dust and the wood's sawdust out of his lungs. As Shelly helped Wu back on his feat, Wu looked at Shelly and said "lets!".

Bits of wood and nails flew from over his boots as he shook them. He took his hat off and swung it in the air a bit to remove the small wooden bits off of it, he wore it back on and bent down to grab his sword from the ground, and sheathed it. At the saloon's door, behind him stood the sheriff and the well dressed junky. The sheriff seemed frustrated, and angry. Wu looked over his shoulder when he noticed Simon offering gum to the sheriff, Wu spun his body around as his hands reached for the tin, "I'll be taking one if you don't mind kind sir." He gave a slight smile as he took one and dropped it in his mouth. Wu tilted his head and met the sheriff's eyes. "Good night to you miss" He said in a gentle voice.

All the sudden a distant figure seemed to be able to catch up to rat on its feet and confront Rat with a mere knife. From the dress it wore Wu guessed it could be the bartender, Rose. And she was. As Rat fell from his horse Wu began to sprint towards them. He looked over his shoulder and cried for Shelly "You still want that five grand?". Turning his head, he locked his gaze on Rat making sure he won't run away again. When he reached them, Rat had already pulled his gun on Rose. Wu quickly took out his sword and poked Rat's shoulder by its tip. "Pull the trigger and see what happens smartass!" Wu warned him as he tried to catch his breath and steady it.

Santos couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at what happened. In a short span of time, the would be fugitive executed a distracting maneuver worth of a pirate novel, only for chasers to keep appearing, and Rose, the lovely Rose doing a performance worthy of a circus. That woman keeps getting more and more interesting day by day. He thought to himself while he cradled his bottle, warding it off in these strange circumstances.

More things happened. First of all, the Rat had gotten rather angry at Rose who had essentially prevented his escape and he was aiming at her. Now that isn't good. I might need to intervene to help a damsel in distress. He clenched his fist, only to see a chinese cowboy sort of guy using a sword of all things against the fugitive. What kind of showoff brings a sword to a gunfight? He thought to himself. However, that solved the problem of coming to Rose's help. Also the fugitive was apparently ten grand, not just one, so the old soldier thought to let her linger without his help a little longer for her deception. That made him ponder going after him as well, if not because things as they were now, splitting the reward any further would bring far more trouble than worth.

His eyes wandered at the multitude of patrons that had scattered, only to see the pretty thing of the Sheriff... not so well. She was smashed. Santos couldn't help but let a chuckle out. Sheriff Charlotte wanted to play the tough guy... and she was a woman bound to fail miserably at that regard. Perhaps if she had lived her life as woman she would've been happier. Still that made him realize that possible Rose, the guy in the ragged mask and mr chinese sword guy were currently the best thing the town could offer to stop the bandit.

"Perhaps I should start bringing my gun in these town strolls. What an incovenience." He finally sighed as he took out his jacket and wrapped the expensive bottle in it, like if it were a baby. He then hid the bottle beneath some crates, far from the prying eyes of drunkards. He inhaled and began walking towards the standoffish situation.

"Oi, mr O'Hennessey." He started talking out loud. "That was the sloppiest attempt at escaping I've ever seen. Just surrender, it's obvious that this isn't your day. Or night for the matter." He kept on walking. "You know that if you shoot lady Rose, one of our prettiest flowers in the entire town, no less than a dozen of men will want to hang you by morning without waiting for the authorities."

He paused."So be a good lad and stay down. You can always escape later, but if you lose your life or kill her it's the end of the road for you. Do you understand?"

Johnny looked over to the loud mouthed stranger, a man who wore his wealth more then his own clothes. He chewed his tongue, contemplating his next move. This was a hick town in the middle of nowhere. Only barren wastes and infertile lands were between this shithole town and the next. He's be surprised if the U.S. government knew of it's existence.

Begrudgingly, Johnny practically threw his gun at Rose. Rage still fueled his senses, but he was good at one thing, surviving.

"You hold onto that Miss," Johnny sneered. "I'll need it back when I come back for your head." He turned, holding his arms up into the air. "I goddamn surrender. Take me to the fucking sherif or get the fuck out of my way."

Rose raised her eyebrows, but she stepped forward and gingerly picked the gun off the ground from where it had skidded to a halt in the dust when Johnny flung it at her. She fumbled for a moment before she managed to empty the chambers, and a breath went out of her she hadn't known she'd been holding.

"Shame," she mused, walking briskly enough towards Rat. "I've still got your wallet, too, sugar." He had, after all, given it to her at the beginning of this insane night—she very much doubted he'd be coming to get it now.

Flipping the now-harmless gun around one finger, Rose cocked a hip, still maintaining a safe distance from Rat but now allowing a satisfied smile to curl her lips.

"Well, Sheriff, I'd say that's one Rat O'Hennessey, alive rather than dead," she called to Charlotte, leaning shakily against the rail of her saloon's porch. "How about you get one of these big, strong men to take care of the shipping and handling and we can talk money, hm?"

Archie sat on the stage at the far end of the saloon, swinging his legs gently. Outside, a hubbub was happening and he really didn't care, he lost the motivation to get the ten grand and in the end he seemed to have lost more, dignity. Archie heard the yells of surrender and slumped, he didn't know what was to happen now or how Rose would react upon seeing him after his slip up but he knew it would be no good. He stopped swinging his legs and looked out at the saloon doors, he could leave town he pondered but quickly dismissed that notion, he had too much here to just up and leave; he could become a hermit, that appealed to him but no one liked hermits; in the end he just settled on going back home.

Buttoning up his coat and slipping the revolver into his pocket, he stepped out into the sharp night air and payed the unfolding scene no mind, as far as he was concerned it didn't apply to him anymore. The thing that was on his mind though was mending the bridge with Rose, if the bridge indeed had been broken as he hypothesized; he did not know how to do so.

"I'll think of something in the morning." he mumbled to himself.

Shelly stood a spectator as the chaotic chase for the Hennessey fugitive finally ended with Rose winning it all. He not only lost the thousand dollars initially offered, or the potential ten grands, he not only lost the money he stole from Archie's or even Marlett either dead or escaped in the midst of the shooting. Shelly also damaged his Indian made mask, and he damaged his since of dignity and purpose. He decided to sober up his spirit and quit distractions, his quest for the hidden artifact in the mountains still a priority afterall.

When he came into Sand Flats, he was already worn out from the previous job, he expected a cheap glass of wine and a bed. A whore for bonus, but never this clusterfuckbomb of Wild West drama. Shelly ripped his mask off and tugged it into his pocket. He brought his hat down to cover his face, an extremely scarred one, and walked inside trying not to cause anymore problems.

"You still owe me that fucking expensive vintage wine Madame." He yelled without looking at the already preoccupied Rose. He walked inside and hoping to find any trace for Marlett, he didn't. Instead Archie was sitting across him in the distance, Shelly gave him a scarlet glare, a subtle grudge and snarled away to pick up a bottle of beer that wasn't harmed in the shootout.

There were few people left in the Saloon, the piano was fortunately intact save a few nails and sand. Shelly grabbed his bottle and walked over to the piano, being careful not to walk to close to Archie.

He set the bottle side on a nearby stool and started playing some sweet honky tonk tunes.

"I ain't her hostage Miss," Johnny butted in. "If anything she should be grateful that I didn't just shoot her down. No, I ain't no one's hostage and no one is claiming no bounty on me neither. Y'all look like a bunch of lunatics when a number finally hit my name! Good to know Sand Flats is renowned for it's populace of assholes and whores!"

He looked that the sheriff with red eyes burning in anger and defeat. He wanted her to know that he wasn't fucking around anymore. People were going to die horrible bloody deaths in this town, and he wanted his eyes to say it all. With a foul spit aimed in the dirt and dust, Johnny held his arms out together so that the sheriff could handcuff him. "So," he growled, "are you going to arrest me or not Miss Sheriff?"

Oh, that was a little unexpected. Charlotte watched with wide eyes as the fugitive very, very reluctantly surrendered his gun to Lady Rose. So much for a wild chase. Not that anybody needed one anyway. Releasing a large sigh of relief, Charlotte held her gun back up and pointed it at the now unarmed Rat O'Hennessey. Lady Rose called back to her and mentioned something about getting one of her deputies to take care of the criminal.

Charlotte nodded and began to descend from the porch and approach the murderous man. But he still seemed to be seething with rage as he spat out insults and threats; they were scary, but Charlotte had heard worse in her days. The haze in Charlotte's eyes was now only barely beginning to clear, but she was in no way comfortable with handling this dangerous man herself. Luckily, the shooting had already attracted a decent amount of attention from around the town and one of her deputies should show up shortly.

"Oh, you're ceratainly not a hostage, per se..." Charlotte said, her gun unwaveringly aimed at his head. "You're more of a prisoner with a bounty on his head. And unfortunately I don't have my handcuffs on me in this dress, so if you'll be so kind as to hold those hands above your head and—oh!"

She stopped as one of her deputies came jogging over, clad in his uniform.

"Impeccable timing, Andrews. If you don't mind, I don't happen to have any cuffs on me..." The deputy understood, pulled a pair from his belt and clasped them over Rat's wrists.

Brandishing her badge that she was carrying, she announced, "Rat O'Hennessey, as sheriff of this town, I am placing you under arrest per mandate by the United States government."