Seth MacFarlane's A Million Ways to Die in the West(23)

“Oh, no, I’m not the hero,” he answered with a flushed face. “I’m the guy in the crowd making fun of the hero’s shirt.”

She gave a small chuckle, which was promptly interrupted by a loud bark. Plugger came bounding out of the darkness and happily fell into step beside Anna, giving her hand a friendly lick.

“Hey, look who’s here.” She smiled. “This is Plugger.”

“Oh, hey, Plugger,” Albert said, gamely scratching the mangy dog’s head. He turned and regarded Anna with a look of curiosity. “So … that was your brother, huh?”

“Lewis, yeah.” She rolled her eyes.

“Uh-huh. Does he generally commit murder over beverage-related disputes?”

“He’s always been a little rambunctious.”

“Yeah, he seems like a character,” Albert deadpanned. “You’re okay, though?”

“Oh, I’ve seen him do it a hundred times. I don’t have to worry about Lewis, he’ll pull himself out no problem.”

“Well, that’s … that’s good, I guess. I’m, uh … I’m Albert, by the way,” he said, offering a hand.

She shook it firmly. “I’m Anna. Nice to meet you, Albert.”

“So, you guys just got into town, huh? Welcome to our awesome town,” he said, grandly extending an arm to show off the unremarkable shithole that was Old Stump.

“Thanks.” She smiled. “Lewis and I moved here from Kansas City.”

“Kansas, huh?”

“No, it’s in Missouri.”

“Oh, right. That’s annoying and weird.”

“Yeah, we were wanting a change, so we came out to the frontier looking to build a farm.” Plugger jabbed at her leg with his nose, a dry stick hanging out of his mouth. She plucked it from his jaws and tossed it farther up the thoroughfare. The dog scurried after it with clumsy urgency.

“Really? I’m a farmer myself,” he said without pride or enthusiasm. “I have a farm about two miles from here.”

“Oh. Cattle?”

“Sheep.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s gotta be fulfilling work, right?” she asked, plainly hearing the dolefulness in his voice.

“It’s great,” he answered flatly. “It’s like being a dog walker for a hundred and fifty really stupid dogs.”

She laughed openly for the first time. “It can’t be that bad. Sheep are cute.”

“That’s the problem. I mean, if I was a cattle farmer, that’d be one thing, y’know? That’s a manly job. You use cows to make beef. Leather. Tough things. With sheep you make sweaters. I’m basically a sweater farmer.”

“That’s good; we’re all hoping for a bountiful sweater harvest this year.”

Their stroll came to a halt as they reached the fat, ugly tree stump that jutted up from the ground smack in the center of the thoroughfare. “I’m assuming this is why the town is called Old Stump,” Anna said.

“Yeah, this is it.” He sighed with boredom. “When they built the town, they had to cut down this big tree, but they couldn’t move the stump. They didn’t have any dynamite and they ran out of black guys, so they had to leave it here, right in the middle of the street.”

“Well, why couldn’t they just build the town fifty feet that way?” she asked, pointing off to her left.

Albert stared at the stump. No one had ever asked that question before. It was a very good question. He thought it best to move on. “So, why would you leave Kansas City for the Western frontier?” he asked. “I mean, it sucks out here.”

“I don’t know—it’s exciting,” she said, with a bright, attentive gaze, as if seeing a completely different town than he was. “Everything’s so new and unpredictable.”

“Well, that is true, nothing is what it seems. Like, look—see that building right there? We have no idea what’s inside. I mean, it could be anything. This whole place has such an air of mystery about it.” He gave her his best wide-eyed impression of awestruck curiosity as he pointed to a shabby structure with the single word BANK painted on the front.

Anna laughed again. “I’m getting the sense that you’re kind of a negative guy.”

“Well, Jesus, look where I live,” he grumbled. “Oh, hey, here’s a fun fact about the American West in 1882. You receive the same punishment whether you’re a horse thief or a retarded newborn.”

“They hang retarded newborns?”

“Yep, as a warning to others. I shit you not.” He sighed. “But none of it is my problem anymore. I’m leaving tomorrow.”