shuffled through his second most valuable possession: his sheet music.
His most valuable possession was the piano on which he played it.
Well, Wilbur didn't actually own the piano; it belonged to his employer,
The Long Branch Saloon, Dodge City, Kansas, proprietor: Miss Katherine
Muldoon. Miss Kitty, as Miss Muldoon was better known, had red hair,
and a flaming red Irish temper worthy of her ancestry.
Wilbur selected his piece.
"Does your chewing gum lose its flavor
" the tune
began. Overhead, wagon wheel kerosene lamps shrouded in smoke offered
feeble light. An odd aroma of tobacco, alcohol, sweat, manure and
The Long Branch Saloon
was a combination watering hole, dance hall, gambling house, boarding
house and bawdy house all in one. It was home to travelers, cowboys,
railroad workers (excluding Chinamen), townfolk and the just plain
curious. With all the sin and vice that went on there, one would
think that the activities were on the wrong side of the law and
one would be right. However being on the wrong side of the law and
having the law do something about it are two very different things.
One of the Long Branch's
steady customers was the town marshal, a long drink of water known
as Matt. Although no one could prove it, there was suspicion that
Matt was a partner in the Long Branch and had an understanding with
Miss Kitty. In exchange for renewal of the business' license to
operate, Matt was paid a "consulting fee."
To his mind, what was
good for the economy of the town was good for profits of the Long
Branch. What was good for profits of the Long Branch was good for
profits for him. So he was determined that the establishment offer
goods and services to cater to the needs of, in particular, the
young male "tourist." With the addition of some attractive
bar girls from "back east" business was not only good,
it was downright booming.
Matt was in the back
room of the Long Branch going over the books. "Miss Kitty,"
he yelled, "Get in here. I need you."
Kitty, breasts burgeoning
to burst over the top of her bustier, came bustling in. "What
is it, Matt? We got a packed house tonight, and I don't have time
"This is business,"
he grinned, "We can take care of the other thing later."
He waved her over to
sit next to him. "I have some questions about your expenses,"
he went on. "What's this about perfume for your girls?"
"Well heck, Matt.
You want my girls to smell pretty, don't you?"
"Come on, Kitty.
We're talking cowboys here. They just spent months looking at the
ass ends of thousands of cows. They hang out with other cowboys
all day, and they probably smell worse than the cows themselves.
So all your girls have to do is smell better than a bag full of
buffalo dung and they'll smell good enough."
"You don't know
a thing about women, do you, Matt?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean the perfume
isn't for the men; it's for the girls. The girls feel sexier when
they wear perfume. And when they feel sexy, they act sexier, and
you should appreciate that. That's what gets more customers coming
in. And speaking of buffalo dung
"Would it hurt if
we ran the boys through the bath house before they get here? Some
of my gals are getting sick. It doesn't impress a customer favorably
when you throw up on him. It sort of spoils the moment, if you know
what I mean."
"You know the more
time they spend in the bath house, the less time they spend in the
and the key word here is spend."
"Oh Matt, stop being
such a tightwad. You can cut lose with the purse strings every now
and then," she said, green eyes flashing with anger.
"Tightwad? Is that
your tune, missy?"
"What is it with
you? It's always about money."
"With me, it's about
MAKING money. With you it's about SPENDING money."
Miss Kitty bristled in
her full Celtic fury, "There is more to life than money, Matt.
How about love? Do you ever think about that? You're awfully quick
on the draw. I never met another man who could whip his penis out
of his pants as fast as his gun out of his holster. The problem
is that in both cases, you get your shot off in a fraction of a
second. However, unlike the gun duel, when we make love, you're
the one laying down dead after the shootout." By now she was
yelling loud enough to be heard outside the door.
tried to quiet her.
"Shh! The fuck with
'shh.'" She turned and yelled at the door, "Hey everybody,
Matt Dillon is a premature ejaculator!"
Matt grabbed her, and
pulled her towards him. She yelled a parting shot at the door, "And
he's a masturbator too!"
Before she can get her
next shot out, he had her over his lap. She let out an "oomph"
as she assumed her position somewhat unwillingly.
He pulled up her dress,
and down came her panties.
"Oh Matt, not again,"
"Shut up, Kitty.
You like it and you know it."
Kitty's spanking, like
her screaming moments ago was heard through the door.