-141-
#5 Dancing Revolver
-142-
like a specimen on a shelf, a flower sits serenely under its little glass
dome, unknowing or uncaring of the curious scrutiny given it by a spikey-haired,
bright-eyed blond child and his indulgent, black-haired caregiver.
Child Vash- Flo… wer… red flower……
Rem- Isn't it pretty? It's called a "geranium". Back on Earth, tons
and tons of different types of flowers bloom. Humans think of them as very precious
things.
Child Vash- Hmmm… Do they eat them?
Rem- ^.^;; ……… I'm sure someone does somewhere, but….
-143-
Child Vash- You like this flower, right, Rem?
Rem- Yep! Lots. Red flowers are usually associated with feelings of love and
affection. Sure, this one isn't the biggest one out there, but I really, really
like flowers that bloom so brightly in nature. But y'know, geraniums have another
meaning, in the language of flowers……… determination.
pause. fast forward. zip to a time over 150 years later, in a small town
roiling with internal conflict that's just started to slowly explode. gunpowder
residue darkens the muzzle of the Colt Longshot, smoke from repeated firing
still curling around the barrel.
-144-
dust swirls in the large empty space around Vash the Stampede, the panicky
populace and prudent federal troops (dressed in uniforms looking quite similar
to Civil War era Confederate troops) keeping a healthy distance between them
and what seems to be a legendary outlaw gone swan-diving off the deep end. Vash
glares over his shoulder at the cluster of troops, somehow looking both peeved
and contemptuous at the same time.
Vash- …hmph.
ConFed 1- Damnit! Somebody calm that rabble down!
ConFed 2- What the hell? Is that red-coated guy another hijacker?
ConFed 3- Damn, I can't see a thing in all that dust.
ConFed 4- Hold it, hold it!
Head Fed- Everyone hold your fire, but do not lower your weapons!
-145-
another soldier whispers in the CO's ear.
Head Fed- Vash the Stampede? Is that what they're calling him?
ConFed- Sir, do you think he's the real one, sir?
Head Fed- Real thing or not, it doesn't matter. Our course of action isn't changing.
inside the steamer, everyone's just as confuzzled as everyone outside…
Desperado 1- Him? The guy in red's the one who's been shooting?
Desperado 2- Feds' backup?
Desperado 3- Then why the hell are they aiming at him too?
Desperado 4- He's a pain in the ass. Should I shoot him?
the sniper looks over at a long-coated man with long, straggly hair and a
hat with both sides of the brim pressed up Australian-style. it's also pulled
down low enough that seeing his eyes is difficult.
Ringleader- No. Don't waste your bullets. Later, one more could mean life or
death. Anyway…
-146-
three people are bound tight and shoved uncomfortably into one corner…
Ringleader- …as long as we have the hostages the feds'll posture and demand,
but won't actually do anything. The way they're dealing with the guy in read
is because he's acting so weird, but it's not too late… oi, you over there.
a balding, sweating man looks up, the muzzle of his automatic never leaving
the cringing puddle of young man he's been watching.
Ringleader- You're stressing too much. Calm down before you explode.
Baldy- …………hooo.
Desperado 4- Typical Lurawd. So cool there's not one drop of sweat on him.
Desperado 3- Yeah, even though the feeling something big is gonna happen has
been getting stronger.
-147-
if he heard that exchange, Lurawd says nothing, simply pulling his hat lower
over his eyes… over his blank, staring eyes. eyes that another person,
sitting elsewhere, is looking through. a small, mousy man with a Hitler moustache
and wire-rim glasses sits in a now-empty bar. his black-coated form hunches
over his table, concealing a small red sphere that floats suspended between
his steepled palms. in the right glinting of the light, slim white threads can
be seen between his fingertips and the red ball…
utterly oblivious to her only customer, the portly bar matron stalks over
to the door, calling for her waitress…
Bar Matron- Elena, get back here! I ain't payin' ya to go off chasin' crowds!
Elena- But ma'am, haven't you heard? It's Vash the Stampede!
Bar Matron- What in the world are you saying, you daft girl? Get in here before
I sack you!
closer to the center of the action, snatchets of a song can be heard floating
on the wind…
::Vash- massacre~~~~ massacre~~~~ not a single survivor~~~::
Wolfwood and Brad stare on in disbelieving horror.
Wolfwood- Vash, you…
-148-
Wolfwood- …have COMPLETELY lost it!! o_O;;
Brad- //hanging onto Wolfwood, fearing for his life// Don't antagonize him!
::Vash- la la la lu la genoci~~de li li lu li lu oceans of bloo~~~d,
let's begin the killing ti~~~~me!::
the gunmen in the steamer are just as baffled.
Desperado 1- He's…..singing?!
Desperado 2- -.-;
now that he's got the complete and undivided attention of absolutely everyone,
Vash proceeds to put on a show. he whips out a long-stemmed grenade from Hammer
Space™, and promptly lobs it high over the heads of the watching crowd.
obliging lemmings that they are, everyone looks up and gasps.
-149-
with a flourish, he shoots the grenade. it explodes in a big ball of smoke
and fragments, well above anyone's head. the Obliging Lemmings 'oooh' and 'aaaah'
and 'kyaaa' and back up, staring at the Big, Scary Explosion. shrapnel rains
down on the Mubra, making a loud rattle and clatter. then there's the collective
"…waa~~itaminute…"
Desperado 1- He's GONE!
cheezy and transparent, but hey, the distraction worked. ^.^
-150-
Lurawd recovers quickly, however.
Lurawd- He's coming! Stations!
sure enough, the rapidfire thud of running footsteps sounds above the hijackers'
heads. one is daring enough to peek out the hatch to the roof, and is treated
to the sight of an utter madman caroming towards him, bloodshot eyes wide and
war-whooping at the top of his lungs. predictably, the Desperado takes a second
for an "Oh. My. Go~~~~~~~d." Moment, before scrabbling to bring his
rifle to bear.
-151-
it is, unfortunately for him, not in time. sliding like he's going for home
plate, Vash manages to both kick the rifle out of the Desperado's hands, and
clothes-line him with the Longshot. don't ask me how, he just did. the poor
fool's comatose body and Vash's feet hit the deck of the top level of the Mubra
at the same time. two more desperados are taken care of quickly thereafter.
-152-
of course, everyone in the first-class cabin can hear Vash coming.
Desperado 3- I knew it! He's one of the Feds' cronies!
Lurawd- Calm down. He's got only one route he can take to get here. Remember.
There was a reason we chose this location.
swinging down the stairs, Vash takes out another pair of desperados, steadily
making his way deeper into the Mubra.
-153-
audience gone, Vash reverts to his typical determined self. more desperados
fall.
Vash- …over there?
pausing outside the door to the first-class cabin, Vash takes a second to
prepare… then whirls into the doorway, aimed and ready to---
-154-
Lurawd- FIRE!!
---find waaaaay too many guns pointed right at him. Vash keeps spinning,
twisting his way past the doorway, bullets flashing all around him.
-155-
momentum carries him several feet down further down the hallway, to land
in a sprawling, fortunately whole, pile. spent, mushroomed bullets clatter to
the decking in handfuls around his hunched form.
Vash- ………great! Now I know this new equipment works perfectly.
Not one shot penetrated, but…… the feeling like getting pummeled by
a steel-fisted octopus doesn't change! AAAOWCH!!
Lurawd- You lose, gunman. All we have to do is watch that one door. With just
that one way in, you're mole-meat. So whenever you're ready to get shot to pieces,
feel free to stick your neck out.
-156-
Vash- …… thanks for spelling it out, pal. Shooting straight in sure
as hell isn't going to work. But, that's because I was using my eyes.
closing his eyes, Vash visualizes what he can remember of the first class
compartment from his one brief glance, the dangling washers from the morning's
accuracy exercise superimposing themselves over the image.
-157-
Vash- Mind if I ask you something?
Lurawd- What.
Vash- Which do you think is better: being adult and calling this game off here,
or playing things through all the pain to "game over" and getting
stuck as to just who you're going to go visit in the hospital?
Lurawd- ……… A question to answer yours. Which do you prefer:
getting swiss-cheesed while hiding behind that wall, or getting shot in the
back while running away?
Vash- ……… now that's just too bad. Negotiations have officially
broken down!
-158-159-
at the very bottom of the doorframe, just the Longshot and Vash's hand peek
around, upside-down. don't ask me how he manages to torque his hand like that,
but he does. without bothering to actually look where he's aiming, Vash squeezes
off several shots in a row. the desperados all squawk and dive for cover.
-160-
dead silence follows. Vash doesn't try bursting into the room, settling for
firing just that handful of shots. eventually, cautious heads peer over the
top of the seats. with no more gunfire forthcoming, they get braver, filling
the silence with their own shots.
Desperado 1- ……he missed?
Desperado 2- Of course he did, nitwit! That was an impossible no-looker! Take
thi--- ?!
something clonks him over the head. looking up, he sees the shattered hinge
to the overhead storage bins falling.
-161-
insert cheery stewardess voice- "Thank you for choosing to ride with
Trans-Desert SteamTravel, we appreciate your business. Please be careful when
opening the overhead bins, as your belongings may have shifted during our trip,
and could fall out." given the sheer amount of stuff that falls out of
those bins, everyone in first-class had been packing for a looooong stay.
…now Vash stalks into the cabin, everyone but a conspicuously absent
Lurawd buried under nice, metalbound, square-cornered luggage trunks.
Vash- ……… and stay down, ya spoony creeps!
whoops, waitaminute. that old bald guy is still up…
-162-
and wishy-washy though he looks, he certainly shows spine. quick as a thought,
the young hostage he's been paying particular attention to gets slammed to the
floor, muzzle of Baldy's gun pressed square to his temple.
Vash- Enough! This show's over, Pops. You can let the hostage go now.
Baldy- If you're gonna shoot me, do it.
Vash- Don't be stupid.
Baldy- ………who're you with? The Feds?
Vash- Wrong.
-163-
Baldy- …… Then where the hell do you get off butting in? It's better
for everybody if this punk dies.
already cheezed off from the antics needed to get in there, the old man's
pigheadedness isn't doing much to help Vash's temper.
Vash- …… Stubborn old…… Who died and gave you the right
to decide that? … C'mon, I'll ask you again. Please. Let that guy g---
Baldy- I refuse.
Vash- Damnit all Pops, would you cut me a---
Baldy- SHUTUP! Just shut your mouth.
-164-
Baldy- This… this… THING… he killed my daughter!
#5 DANCING REVOLVER / END