Cowgirl

John G.... I took your cowgirl suggestion and sort of ran with it..

Tumbleweeds rolled down the deserted main street of Blogger; another dusty town, another cowpoke invested den of depravation. In with the dust rode a black stallion, barely tamed by the hand that reined him in. The horse stopped in front of the Sip of Sherrie salon. The rider paused, wondering if the effort was worth the watered down whiskey served inside…there was talk of a wild hair that needed taming. With the dual six-shooters and other pistols cocked and ready, the rider wondered if they were enough…

The doors of the salon parted as the stranger entered. A steady ring of spurs as boots struck the wooden floor filled the air like a tempo out of beat, its music wrapping the air.
From the shadow of a cowboy hat, eyes flickered over the men at the bar, drinking cheap whisky.

The rider marched up to the bar. “I’ll have a whisky straight up.” A gun was laid on the counter. “None of that crap you’re watering down these rascals with.”

The voice of the stranger wasn’t your ordinary dust-choked cowboy scratch. It was …no it couldn’t be, not dressed in chaps and a leather vest….a woman! But there was no denying the bosom that had popped a few buttons off her blouse or the cleavage that probably hid a rifle.

John G…the G didn’t stand for Gelding…pivoted on his bar stool. “Howdy Babelicious Cowgirl? What brings you to this part of the range?”

“I’ve come to stomp vermin,” she said, swallowing her whiskey in one gulp, answering his next question of ‘did she swallow?’

At that moment a whirlwind tumbled through the doors. It was Carrot Top spreading his Dial Down the Middle evil. The Cowgirl reached for her guns, firing as she dove behind the bar. Dadgumit! She missed.

The other cowboys took cover in a whiskey stupor. All except John G whose wish that more buttons pop off her blouse was answered.

Carrot Top’s unnatural confused look never changed as he continued to try and Dial down the middle of the nearest whiskey bottle. It was time to take out the secret weapon. With sped of lightning, the cowgirl leapt across the bar, tackling Carrot Top. With tweezers in hand, she plunked his eyebrows until they were on the straight and narrow; not up at odd angles like a question mark gone wild!

“Now git out of here,” she told him, “before I git mad.” From the depth of her cleavage, she removed a large vibrating dildo. Carrot Top took one look and ran out of the saloon, hands over his ass, never to be seen again in any western television commercial.

John G fell to his knees. “Who are you? Thong or bikini panties? Leather only or is there lace hidden somewhere? I’ve got to know. I’m a hot-blooded cowboy.”She smiled and adjusted the brim of her hat. “Get a copy of ‘Cowgirls Gone Wild Part 6.’ It has all the answers.” With a smile, she was gone, riding her stallion into the sunset.