FILE NO. 237: CHAS THE GAY TRAPPER - Final Episode

So there they were; Chas bent over the table with his pants down around his ankles, Mountie Bill on his knees pinching his left cheek trying to pick a pellet out of his bare ass when the door flies open again – a flurry of snow whirling and swirling throughout the little room – Muffy scurrying for cover to the back of the desk.  Bellowing louder than the storm outside and armed with a double-barreled shotgun, a crazed, wild-eyed Jackson strode into the room, each step thumping as loudly as Mountie Bill’s heart!

Like a huge bullfrog, Mountie Bill quickly placed his hands on Chas’ hips and as he leaped high in the air over him and the desk, he grabbed his gun and holster, which was lying near the edge of his desk. Just as he was landing on top of Muffy he heard a loud shotgun blast and Chas screaming at the top of his lungs when it blew a large hole in the corner of the desk, splintering and peppering his lover's bare ass with slivers and buckshot once again.

Muffy streaked out from under Mountie Bill, ki-yiing like a gut-shot coyote and was heading towards the jail cells when Jackson fired the shotgun again, which blew another huge hole in the desk.  As Jackson was reloading his shotgun, Mountie Bill was pulling his revolver out of the holster and Chas, with his pants half pulled up above his knees, screaming like an unpaid hooker, went dashing out the door into the snow, his big red ass gleaming like a harvest moon. 

Just as the berserk trapper slid the two shotgun shells home and snapped the barrels shut with a loud click; Mountie Bill stuck his head up just above the desk and fired a round at Jackson that glanced off the big trapper ’s brow.  Reeling by the force of the bullet, the trapper fired his shotgun wildly into the air, blowing a huge hole in the ceiling that let the snow drift in.  Backing up around the corner of the room for cover, where Muffy cowered in fear on the floor next to the jail cell, Jackson, blood streaming down the side of his face hollered, “I’ll teach yuh t' mess with my man...er...my woman...or...or whutever the hell he is!  I'd like t' see yuh git the hell out thet door before I blow yur bloody desk into small pieces of firewood and yuh along with it!”

Mountie Bill knew he’d never make it as far as the door, let alone get through it.  Realizing he was in a tough situation he decided to try and palaver with the crazy trapper.  

Although he was scared as hell, even pissed his pants in the excitement he calmly said, “There’s nothing going on between Chas and me.  It wasn’t what it looked like; I was just picking the buckshot out of his ass where you shot him.  Look, so far, no one’s been killed, just a shot-up desk and a wounded lover; throw down your shotgun and I’ll make sure that the judge goes easy on you - what do you say Jackson?”

“The way I see it,” Jackson chuckled, a big grin on his face, “I’ve got this big old blaster pointed at yur dog’s head, so yuh just might be able t' git out that door before I pull the trigger and then take a shot at yuh – what d’ yuh say about that?”

Just as Mountie Bill’s head peeped over the edge of the desk he heard the shotgun go off and watched Jackson flying backwards through the air, the whites of his eyes glowing like a couple of moth balls as he went sliding down the wall with his legs spread apart, the shotgun harmlessly clattering on the floor beside him.

“What the hell,” exclaimed Mountie Bill?

As Muffy slunk out of the corner, gingerly stepping over Jackson’s body he heard, “Son of a bitch.  That crazy bastard woke me up from the best damn dream I’ve ever had, so I hit him as hard as I could.  Hope I didn’t kill the son of a bitch,” the drunk slurred..

After Mountie Bill and his drunk prisoner dragged the groaning half-stunned Jackson into the cell and threw him on the cot; the steel door slamming shut with a clang, he sent the drunk to fetch the doctor.   Sitting down at his shot-up desk, he mused, “Now how am I going to write up this report?”

Hope you enjoyed the story about the Mountie and the crazy fur trappers - I'm now writing a murder/mystery set in old London town England during the turn of the 20th Century.  If I can figure out the ending, I'll start posting it tomorrow - Cheers - eh!