fandomhigh | History in Living Colour - Friday, Period 3 (Week 13)

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history in living colour

History in Living Colour - Friday, Period 3 (Week 13)

The town of Tombstone looked a heck of a lot like it was straight out of a Western. The buildings lined Main Street, the central point of the town being the saloon. Horses were tied up at several points along the street, minding their own business. The one noticeable thing that differed from the other simulations the class had been through was that there were no people. This time, the class would populate the town.

Welcome to Arizona circa 1881.

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Altra eyed her, looking vaguely impressed at how well she'd downed the drink. Karal looked vaguely horrified at the word choices, but only for a second. "I wouldn't know about that," he said, managing a fairly credible drawl. "But I can't complain." He grinned suddenly. "'Cause if I do, no one comes in to buy drinks."

Amber was impressed by that drawl. She just twisted her Minnesota accent somewhat and figured it was good enough. "Hot days like this probably bring in all the cowpokes too, what with it bein' nearly the weekend, gamblin' and whatnot'll be goin' on a plenty and you'll be as busy as a mosquito in a nudist colony!"

Did they have nudists colonies back then? She had no idea.

"As long as no one tries to bring the nudist colony in here," he laughed, then leaned forward conspiratorially. "It's been many a day since the benches were sanded."

"...and a prickly, splintered ass is downright ugly," she nodded and finished off her drink. Not that she'd ever seen one, but she could imagine. "How 'bout another, sir! I've got plenty coin and it's near to burnin' a hole through the sole of my boot."

"I'm here to serve, ma'am," he said, and filled her glass again. "What brings a nice gal like you into these here parts? Town's got something of a reputation for trouble."

"I just decided old Belle needed some exercise," she answered, reachin for her glass after he filled it. "And don't you worry 'bout me," she whispered, leaning forward. "I carry me a right fine six shooter high on my right thigh, under this here skirt. I been shootin' since I was knee high to a pig's eye."

"Well, then!" Karal gave her a nod of respect. "If any trouble shows itself in here, I'll look to you to stop it while I protect the liquor."

She raised a brow. "Dear man, trouble shows itself here, you best be protectin' your own hide and forget the liquor. We all know the liquor bottles get shot up first, thrown and broke second."

"Oh no," he said, shaking his head. "My job's to keep the liquor safe. And besides, the barkeep is," he had an inkling that sacrosanct was not a word for an old timey bartender, so substituted, "important 'round here. Anyone who lays a finger on me will find themselves not gettin' served next time around." He gave the bar a quick polish. "And the cowboys sure do like their drink."

"You must be a popular fella, then, for them bullets to steer clear. But you're right about the cowboys - they don't want nothin' between them and their whiskey 'cept a glass." Amber made a show of looking around the saloon a good long moment. "Maybe I'll get myself lucky tonight," she said, waggling her brows.

Karal blushed. He tried not to, but the faint hint of pink crept up his cheeks. Altra snickered. "Well, I wouldn't know about that, ma'am," he mumbled, suddenly very interested in a particularly stubborn spot on the bar.

"You wouldn't know about gettin' lucky?" she asked, clearly amused by his blush. "Now that's a down right shame if you ask me."

"Not in a bar!" He could feel his blush getting worse, and he shook his head and smiled sheepishly. "I'm dedicated to my drinks serving, ma'am."

He couldn't help wondering if he was going to lose marks for blushing.

"A saloon is the best place to catch your pants down around your ankles. Ain't there rooms upstairs?" Amber shouldn't tease him so horribly. What was wrong with her?

She was just a stinker.

"A good tender like you should be paid handsomely in more ways than one." She winked at him. "And you do know what I mean."

"Ma'am!" he squeaked as Altra snickered again. "A good job is it's own reward," he added quickly, and poured her another glass.

"Pardon me, Mister!" She downed that whiskey faster than she would've thought possible, very highly amused at this entire situation. "Damn whiskey's gone straight to my head and nether regions!" Amber slapped a good many coins on the bar top.

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History in Living Colour - Friday, Period 3 (Week 13)

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