My word count is way behind the curve, I have limited time to write this week and yet, even with all of this, I am still excited to sit at the keyboard and type some random words. Those of you who have been following each day so far will be used to each blog not really following on from the last. Well grab your hats and get ready…this is going to get weird.
“Quick Sheriff, they are rounding up the dancers”
It was going to be one of those days.
Many years ago I arrived in this reality to work for the Artists Two. Protecting the planet from outside and inside threats. However a week after he had arrived, his paperwork had not. It was always on his to do list to chase this up but other things kept getting in the way. There was no communication from the Nexus and after a month and a half, he decided that they must have forgotten about him. So with no income and seemingly no way to get home again, the man who would be Sheriff, went on a long walk. This took him all over the strange little planet. He had seen such sights and many wonders. If he had been able to be bothered, he could have written several travel books.
He wasn’t so he hadn’t. What he did do though, was walk into the wrong office at the wrong time in a quaint little town called Funkie. It may have been his tiredness at being on the move for so long. It may have been the weather beating he had taken by the strange climate. It may even have been fate, he was not entirely sure. What did happen though was that he found himself the sheriff of this town, bound to keep the peace and uphold the law. Taking to his new role reluctantly initially, he soon found that he had a talent for this line of work. He had respect amongst the general population and the uniform proved a big hit with the ladies. Steady income and a warm, dry place to stay. There was a lot to like.
So he stayed on and made Funkie his new home. He even looked into the towns short history. It had started as a small haggis mining town that had grown rapidly in size due to the forward thinking of a one Mr Patrick Funkie. This man had seen the squalid conditions that the haggis miners and their families had to live in and decided that if they were paying rent to stay in slum like conditions, they would pay even more money in rent to live in homes that were dry and sturdy. They may not have been much better overall but that slight rise in quality seemed to be enough and pretty soon Mr Funkie was a very rich man. Whether he had a revelation from the gods or just that he got older, he decided to build some facilities (at surprisingly little cost to the towns folk) and that cemented his place in history. There was a public vote and the town that formerly had been known as Malis town, was renamed in his honour. But the haggis mine had run dry long before our sheriff had arrived there and what was left was sadly similar to many small towns around the multiple universes. There was little work for the inhabitants and so many of them spent their days drinking and getting into trouble. This was why they needed a Sheriff.
Now sheriffs came and sheriffs went. Some were good people. They set the town to rights and kept order but they never stayed long. The Federation of International Sheriff Treatment always made sure that their best performing law keepers, were moved onto better towns and cities. The more positive exposure that the Federation could reflect onto themselves from their members, the better the funding streams became.
Then there were the bad Sheriffs who arrived, did little work and looked for an easy life. There was a lot of ground to cover in the town and they had to do this with limited resources. Normally these bad Sheriffs would be killed by one of the many criminal gangs that roamed the town after dark. Incidents like these were kept hushed up by the Federation and a new applicant was recruited as quickly as possible.
Luckily for the town of Funkie, they got lucky with their most recent applicant.
They got the hero of our story and he was just the right man to bring the law to the lawless.
“Uh Sheriff, did you hear me”
The Sheriff looked at his deputy and swung his heavy leather boots down from where they had been resting in the desk.
“Yes Bob, I heard you.” He stood up and fastened his holster around his waist. “Lets go sort this mess out”