THIS STORY IS A WESTERN IT IS NOT TOO LONG YOU SHOULD READ I

[FengharTheNord]

THAT'S MY HORSE

“HEY THAT'S MY HORSE”
“No that is not your horse”
“Yes it is.”
The two men continued to argue through the night and well into the morning when Dusky Browns showed up. Dusky Browns was a different kind of man. He wasn't a man. He was a horse man cowboy thing. Most people were quite put off by his appearance. A lot puked. His odor was offensive, as were his words that were borderline vulgar.
“Hey you dirt suckers”
The two men that were arguing about a horse turned on their heels.
“Hey, that's my horse”
The two men looked at eachother and then back at Dusky Browns and then back at eachother and then maybe one more time they looked at Dusky Browns but it was mostly an accident because Dusky Browns was quite repulsive and they didn't really like looking at him. But they looked at him. And the expressions he was making were quite upsetting. They were upset by his expressions. That was often the case with Dusky Browns. He wasn't very socially aware. He was kinda desperate and it came through in his expressions. Which were upsetting.
“Hey, that's my horse”
He said again because some time had passed and all the two arguing men were doing was double taking.
“Hey, that's my horse”
He just felt like saying it a third time. He liked things that came in threes. He was a true cowboy, Dusky Browns. He enjoyed dabbling in superstitions. But he dabbled in them slightly too much, so as to be more impressive than most other cowboys, but in fact, it just turned out to be somewhat annoying. And anything that was somewhat annoying was really annoying when magnified by Dusky Browns odor and expressions and just overall upsetting appearance.
“th-”
“Yes it is.”
The two arguing men quickly conceded and gave Dusky Browns the horse. It was his, after all.

Dusky Browns was a rambling man. And a gambling man. Well, actually he wasn't. But if he was a gambling man, he'd gamble on himself, because he always won. That's how his life was. Marauders and marooners and mooners and injuns all hoopin and hollerin gave up any time he got into any kind of skiffle or scuffle or tussle with them. That's just how Dusky Brown's life was. Some might say that had an affect on his overall unpleasant, smug, odious disposition. Some might say they hated Dusky Browns and wished he'd just go die in a fire like that one boy from Nackle Lake city done, but Dusky Brown never paid no heed to such unkind words, because that's all he heard. And if it's all he ever heard in his whole life then it can't be true. That was one of Dusky Brown's philosophy's. Somethin that everyone says is true, like 1+1=2, gravity, lectricity, and all that nonsense- somethin that everyone says must be true, can't be true. But if lots of people disagreed on it, then it definitely had to be true. That being said sometimes it was difficult for Dusky Browns to pick out which side was right, unless of course it was his side, because Dusky was always right. Unless he was right alongside everyone else. Then he was wrong. But if he was wrong, then he was right. Dusky was always right. Don't think about it too hard. Just go with it like Dusky do.


Dusky grabbed up that horse and grabbed up a saddle and he stuffed both of them down deep into his big 'ol rucksack and slapped that rucksack on his back and started his long journey north-ish to the town of Boboanonono(This story takes place in Australia don't pay any attention to the part about the injuns, ok?). Boboanonoaon was a queer place. Dusky didn't like it much. Lot's of queer folk. People with guns for hands and horses for faces and goats for feet and sheeps on a leash. They were Dusky's people. That's where he was born. There was something in the water, probably. People didn't much mind it though. Most children were born blind. Dusky wasn't.

That's why when he grew up he always did the best in school. He was the town bully. The town hero. The town drunk and idiot. He was a lot of things to that town, because most people were blind because they had wot but chickens for eyes and that didn't make no sense when you lookin at the world and all you see is chickens so Dusky had to come in and make sense of it all for everyone. He was judge, executioner, and occupied a majority of the jury seats. So what but on his long walk to bbababababa Dusky was waylayed by some outlaws and aboriginals. Dusky took one hard long look at part of them, and the other part he looked off into the distance blankly.

Dusky was a bit cross-eyed. But for the most part he was lookin at them real hard like getting his intimidation on. Getting his stink-eye on, you know what I mean? He looked at most each and every one of them. There were either 10 or 20. Probably 10. Things had a tendency to multiply when Dusky was lookin at them. And now that Dusky thought of it, that was probably just one man arguing to himself about the horse. But now was no time to think about it. Dusky was all caught up in the middle of some serious waylaying action.

The outlaws and aboriginals were real cautious like. Some of them threw up. Dusky saw that as a sign of fear and he grinned and accidentally made some involuntary grunting like noises, which must have set off the group because they went into a frenzy and just runned off somewheresabout. Dusky shrugged and kept movin. He hadn't been waylayed in what but 20 years. Or 10. Probably 20. Dusky always felt like went by doubly faster than it was supposed to, so he misjudged time a lot. Dusky didn't really know how old he was either. He didn't much care. They say Dusky wasn't born, he just crawled up out of the river that ran by boobybobo.

Dusky didn't really care much for what they said. They were always trying to put him down. Callin him names. Weasel face. Grumplestiltskin. Crust sucker. Dirt muncher. Tumor brain. Kids were mean. Some kid did that thing where you change someone's name to something that's bad and sounds similar to that name. Like Jesse- Jessica. Or uh, David- Stupidavid. No? That wasn't a good one. Yeah. I'm not too good. Sorry. Never actually been a child. Just sorta appeared here telling this WESTERN GENRE STORY. Anyways, this one kid called Dusky, musky. That hurt Dusky's feelings real bad. So he took a brick to the kid's face. That's how Dusky dealt with most of his problems. Bricks. There were a lot all over Booooooooooooobob. Mostly because most of the carpenters were blind and they just threw bricks everywhich where. Most deaths in the town were actually brick-related. In no small part to Dusky's occasional anger management issues, but nonetheless a lot of people tripped over those bricks that were layin everywhere. A lot of people were blind. Dusky didn't mind it much though. He liked being one of the few that could see. He could get away with all the brickings he liked.

That's what he called it, bricking. Dusky had a knack for comin- oh look Dusky's nearing up on the town bobob baob ob BOO, better start telling you what he's doing. Ok, so Dusky is walking up to the town, right. Carrying his horse and saddle and some other goods. Dusky had some business there, in his hometown. He hadn't been there in what but 20 years. Or 40. Probably 35. Dusky was kinda old. Most people left him alone nowadays. But not this time. Nosirree. Dusky had some unfinished business. He walked out into the middle of the brick-laden street and yelled out the name of his father. Most of the people recognized his voice what with being borned blind and all they had a knack for that sort of thing, but some were also deaf so they just continued to trip over bricks and spill milk and stuff everywhere. Dusky yelled out his father's name.

Wait Dusky didn't have a father. Or did he? No. You see, Dusky really did crawl up out of a river one day, right after almost being drowneded by his mama for being what but a freak and all. Though, his mama was also blind so it could've been an accident. But Dusky crawled up out of the river named after the town and ever since then he has resented that river with a burning fiery passion. So he threw down his satchel and jumped into the river and drowned trying to defeat it. And that my friends is the tale of Dusky's final battle, his final redemption. Looks like I'm going to cease to exist now that my pur

Gonna turn this one in for a grade as well.

[Cirtur]

Could you indent your paragraphs so it looks less like a wall?

[FengharTheNord]

Shit don't indent

[AHMETxRock]

I think he meant that after every paragraph you hit enter twice instead of just once.

Like this.

[FengharTheNord]

I did. Those are two paragraphs haha.

[Apocalyptus]

Hey my Mum's from bobob baob ob BOO you bastard!

[Cirtur]

That's almost as ridiculous as Wythclinwyckddllycwithn.

Which is where my dad comes from.

[Apocalyptus]

Those damn Welsh.

[Cirtur]

The neighbouring town was called Tywyyldycltnltwcylldctywllidltyclyildtycldytytycllhkhdsclyvn.

[Apocalyptus]

Well my Dad comes from Woolooomoolooloolongolllowollongonginanganongongangongoolies.

[Cirtur]

Yeah, but you can say that.

[Apocalyptus]

Not if you're Asian.
RACISM.

[Cirtur]

It's acceptable where you come from though.

[Apocalyptus]

Now you're the racist.

[Cirtur]

I'm a realist.