once upon a time in montana ii

“Bob,” I said, “you know us. Just set us free and we won’t cause trouble.”

Sheriff J Robert Oppenheimer locked Mr. Ree and me in jail. He sat behind his desk. He look tired, haggard, and was pounding a whiskey bottle.

“Sorry boys,” he replied. “But we have enough trouble with Dillon B Dickleburg coming into town and buying up all the gold mines. This town is a powder keg.”

“Well shit Bob! You are a man of science. You said that gold was a part of your time travel weapon. Just build another time machine and send us back to our timeline.”

“Like I said, even if I could do that, it’s highly improbable that I can get you back. In fact, it’s definitely impossible with 19th Century technology.”

“Have you even tried? Come on, you were a legend in our timeline. What happened to you?”

“You just don’t understand.”

A ten year old boy then walked into the jailhouse. He went up to Oppenheimer and gave him a hug.

“Who are these men papa?” the boy asked.

“These are just strangers Malachi, now go home to your mother. She’s been looking for you,” he replied.

The boy rushed out of the jailhouse.

“Ohh I get it now,” I said. “You’ve settled down. You traded in your lab coat for a badge.”

Oppenheimer put down the whiskey bottle.

“I arrived in this timeline through the spacetime ripple 15 years before you two showed up,” he said. “I met a woman, we settled down. I now have a son that I’d do anything to protect.”

“I’m just asking for your help,” I replied.

“I killed countless people with those damn nuclear weapons,” Oppenheimer continued. “Not again. I have an opportunity to do it right this time. I’m going to do whatever it takes to protect my family and this community from dangerous people like you.”

“Bob, please,” I said. “We’re not here to cause problems. In fact, if you need assistance handling this Dickleburg fellow, Mr. Ree and I can help.”

“You two have done enough damage.”

There was some commotion outside. I could hear one of the deputies ask “how can I help you Mr. Dickleburg?”

“Ah shit,” Oppenheimer said. He grabbed his shotgun and walked outside. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked.

“Mr. Rockwell up in them hills has been chasing us off that land,” I could hear Dickleburg saying.

“I’ll have you know, Mr. Dickleburg, that Mr. Rockwell is the rightful owner of that property. If he wants to chase you away, he’s well within his right,” Oppenheimer said.

“Why sheriff, all I want to do is offer him a business proposition.”

“Now Mr. Dickleburg, I’d advise you to leave that man alone. If you have a message for him, I’ll make sure he receives it.”

I could hear Dickleburg pull out his six shooter. “I own this town Sheriff,” he said. “I am the rightful owner of that property and all the property around it. That means I own you.”

I could hear the clicking of Oppenheimer’s shotgun. “The people of this town are the rightful owners,” he said. “You go back to that company of yours in Helena and you tell them that if they come back, there will be a bloodbath.”

“I’ll be back,” Dickleburg said. Him and his men galloped away on their horses.

Oppenheimer came back into the jailhouse. He took the keys, opened our jail cell, and handed back the 357.

“Men,” he said, “I now pronounce you deputies of Elkhorn, Montana.”

TO BE CONTINUED

once upon a time in montana

“It’s hard being a gay man in the old west,” Mr. Ree said.

“Word. Wait…you’re gay?” I asked.

“Well I wouldn’t say I’m gay. But I exclusively have sex with men.”

I took a sip of whiskey. My mind was on other things.

We were in Montana. I reckon the year was 1879. Mr. Ree and myself have been stuck out of time, out of place, for the last two years.

Time travel does strange things to a man. For one, it strips you completely naked. Mr. Ree and me were found in San Francisco, ass to ass, behind a brothel on Haight Street when we emerged from the plasma ripple. But it does something else: you realize that everyone, and everything, you’ve ever known is out of reach.

I’ll never see Miriam again. Or my unborn child that I left back in another timeline.

But Mr. Ree maintained hope. “We might as well get filthy fucking rich,” he said. The gold mines in California were stripped by 1879. Resigned to our fate, we travelled to Elkhorn, Montana to start a new life.

As we sat in the local tavern, townsfolk glared at us. One burly man came up to our table.

“We haven’t seen your kind ‘round here before,” he said.

“So?”

“We don’t take kindly to strangers. I reckon y’all better drink your whiskey and ride out before sundown.”

“Why don’t you mind your own business buddy?” I said. “We ain’t bothering you. How about you ride your fat ass back to your table?”

“Them are fightin words.”

“Damn right pal! You don’t want none of this!”

“Now gentlemen,” Mr. Ree interjected, “there’s nothing here that can’t be settled by a good old fashioned duel.”

The burly man nodded. “I’ll see you outside.”

“The fuck are you doing Mr. Ree?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about it. You got a Korth 357. You’ll blast his ass into the future,” he replied.

“Ree, this is 1879,” I said, “they don’t make bullets for this gun yet. I gotta conserve my ammo. Besides, wouldn’t I be disrupting the timeline?”

“Nah. According to J Robert Oppenheimer, this is a new timeline, remember? We can do whatever the fuck we want.”

I just shrugged and walked outside. The burly man was standing in the street. The townsfolk all stood around.

“Alright,” I said, “fastest draw wins, or however this bullshit works.”

The burly man opened his duster, exposing his six shooter. “Ready whenever you are,” he said.

We had a stare down. The townsfolk stood around nervously, waiting for the fireworks.

Suddenly he reached for his six shooter. I drew my 357. The sound thundered from my gun, echoing across the town and down through the mountains.

I shot off the burly man’s suspenders. His pants fell down, exposing his ass and penis.

I twirled the 357 and placed it back my holster.

Suddenly a shotgun blast went off. The townsfolk scattered. Out of the shadows appeared a man dressed in black. His spurs jingled as he walked towards us.

“I won’t have this nonsense in my town,” the man in black said.

I recognized the face.

“I’m James,” I said. “And this here is my partner, Mr. Ree.”

“I know who you are,” he replied. “And if you fire that gun again, I’ll shove this shotgun right up your ass.”

“Doesn’t sound like much of a threat,” I said.

He stepped a little closer.

Could it be?

“I’m Oppenheimer,” he said. “SHERIFF J. Robert Oppenheimer.”

TO BE CONTINUED

favorite quotes from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1739-1832) is often regarded as one the greatest German writers. He bestowed upon us some of the finest works in literature, poetry, and theatre.

“Love does not dominate; it cultivates.”

“One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.”

“It’s not the length that counts, it’s the Goethe”

“As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live”

“We do not have to visit a madhouse to find disordered minds; our planet is the mental institution of the universe”

“If I have a drinking problem, what business is it of yours?”

“If you’ve never sucked off a man while crying you don’t know what life tastes like”

“To think is easy. To act is hard. But the hardest thing in the world is my penis in the morning”

“Nothing shows a man’s character more than what he laughs at”

“Magic is believing in yourself. And methamphetamines are pretty magical too”

“Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Willing is not enough; we must do (gay sex)”

Truly Goethe was one of the great geniuses of his generation. Rip 🪦 🪦 🪦

u know what I hate? Your face

“I have a gambling problem,” I told my therapist. “I can’t control myself. I’ve been acting manically: I’ll have advantageous, uncharacteristic sex with my wife. I sometimes load a bullet into a revolver and stare down the barrel. I’ll go 90 in a school zone. I’ll straight up snort Adderall. What’s wrong with me doc?”

“It’s okay, I made the same mistake,” he said.

“You’re a gambleholic too?”

“No, I had sex with your wife.”

THE END

unbelievable

So I was yelling at my elderly neighbor when a guy handed me a package.

“I don’t want it,” I said.

“But I’m the UPS guy.”

So I took it and opened it. My mom sent a sweater.

I called her up and curser her out.“Bitch, send me something good next time!” Then I hung up.

I went back outside. “what do you think about this sweater?” I asked my elderly neighbor. “You jealous that my family still talks to me?”

She said “you’re a punk and someday god will curse you.”

“At least I’m still in good health,” I replied as I lit up a cigarette.

Then I caught syphilis.

THE END

the worst story ever told

So I fell asleep at the strip club and the bouncer nudged me.

“Can’t sleep here,” he said.

“Where can I sleep?”

“Out back.”

So I went to the back patio. I started taking a piss over the side. A stripper was out there on a smoke break.

“Whatchu packin there,” she asked.

“About 4 inches,” I said as I pulled out my .38 special. “It ain’t much but it does the trick.”

“Does it ever accidentally go off?”

“All the time baby.”

We shared a cigarette and a few drinks as we chatted it up. She was going to school to be a dentist.

“I’m not doing nothin when I get off work,” she said. “Wanna hang?”

“Luckily for you I live around the corner.”

She came over to my place. I made her a vodka martini. We went to the bedroom and I removed my shirt. Suddenly a man walked in with a baseball bat.

“Get out of my house,” the man yelled.

“Oh shit,” I said to her. “This isn’t my house!”

We quickly jumped out the window. When we were safely outside, I pulled up my pants.

“I’m still horny,” she said. “Let’s go to my place.”

“Sorry, but I already fired off that round.”

“But I didn’t hear your .38 go off.”

“Not my .38,” I replied. “I jizzed my pants.”

THE END

“dr. sí” part iii

Angelika was loaded onto the plane, strapped to a dolly like she was Hannibal Lector. Maj. Jzerkov was generous enough to give her a jumpsuit.

This time, the plane was bound for Hawaii, the last known location of the nuclear scientist and Dr. Si.

“Are we getting drunk on the plane again,” Mr. Ree asked.

“Damn right we are!”

Admiral Majors joined us at the bar. He was to brief us on our mission.

“The rest of the Kill Squad will join us in Honolulu,” the Admiral said. “Sgt. Private, Captain Corporal, and Lieutenant Sargent have been fully briefed on the situation.”

“Maybe I’ve been too drunk to pay attention,” I said. “But what is our mission?”

“I thought it was obvious,” the Admiral replied. “Retrieve the scientist and kill all the bad guys. How complicated do you want this to get?”

“What about Dr. Sí? What will we do if we capture him?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

After drinks, I went to the cargo bay to talk with Angelika. I dismissed the guards and removed her mask.

“Can you remove the straps please,” she asked. “I need to use the bathroom.”

I unstrapped her from the dolly and watched her closely while she used the toilet.

“Does this turn you on,” she asked.

It kinda did but I played it cool. “Just making sure you don’t escape,” I replied.

“Where am I gonna go? We’re on a plane.”

I didn’t reply. She wiped and flushed the toilet. “Gonna wash your hands,” I asked.

“Why? I didn’t shit on my hands. So what do you want to talk to me about?”

“What’s the deal with Dr. Sí? Why is he so important?”

“This technology he possesses, you couldn’t possibly imagine its power.”

“A nuclear weapon?”

“No. Something more powerful.”

“What could be more powerful than a nuclear weapon?”

“You have a small imagination.”

I scratched my head. Maybe I was too drunk to have this conversation. “Well what does he want with a nuclear scientist,” I asked.

“Nuclear power can be used for other things than just weapons.”

“Care to divulge?”

“Set me free from this cargo bay and I’ll tell you everything.”

“I’ll have to discuss that with the Admiral. He’s particularly concerned about the….”

I turned around for a second and Angelika leapt at me with a makeshift knife (that she presumably snuck in up her ass (or vagina)). I was quick enough to grab her arm and throw her to the ground.

I laid on top of her for a brief moment. We stared into each other’s eyes while I restrained her, my mouth inches from hers. We were both aroused by the sudden burst of action.

The guards rushed in when they heard the commotion. “I got the situation under control,” I told them.

I stood up and ordered the guards to strap her back to the dolly. “Our conversation is done here,” I said. “I’m gonna go jack of…er, I mean, get a Jack. A Jack and Coke. I’m gonna go get drunk.”

But I didn’t go to the bar. I rushed to my cabin to beat off.

“dr. sí” part ii

“I’m sorry Miriam,” I said before I departed for Washington. “I’m doing this for the money. I must save our Amish community.”

We exchanged goodbyes and I rode my horse and buggy down to Washington DC to rendezvous with Admiral Majors at the Pentagon.

“I knew you couldn’t refuse my offer,” the Admiral said. “Now take off that Amish bullshit. You’re a colonel in the Army now.”

I donned my uniform and saluted the Admiral. “Welcome to the Kill Force,” he said.

We boarded a plane and flew to The Hague. “What’s this about,” I asked the Admiral.

“We’re going to meet with Angelika Antoluktokoloplos. She knows the whereabouts of our missing nuclear scientist. Right now, she’s standing trial for war crimes.”

Angelika: my former nemesis turned ally during the Franco De Werner case.

Izzy flew along with us. Her and the Admiral were now married. “The President married us. We had the wedding on the White House lawn. You should have been there,” she said. She was trying to make me jealous.

“I’m so happy for you Izzy,” I replied.

Also on the flight was none other than Mr. Ree. “Well as I live in breath,” I told him. “I thought you died back in Los Angeles.”

He laughed. “No, I had an increased blood flow from that massive erection while I was pretending to be a prostitute. That’s what saved me. Thank god for viagra,” he said as he was popping viagra. “Now I always walk around with a boner.”

Me and Mr. Ree shared a few drinks at the airplane bar. “Keep the martinis coming,” I told the bartender.

“I heard you turned Amish,” Mr. Ree said.

“I’m a new man now,” I replied. “I’m only doing this for the money.”

“You get paid to do this?”

We got rip roaring drunk at the bar. I couldn’t sleep on the flight. Mr. Ree gave me a Xanax.

That morning, the plane landed at The Hague. The Admiral, Izzy, Mr. Ree, and myself were escorted to the maximum security prison by a NATO officer, Maj. Jzerkov.

“Be warned,” Jzerkov said. “The prisoner is uncooperative, she hasn’t given up any information regarding the whereabouts of the Ionian Liberation Front.”

“Just take us to her,” the Admiral said.

Angelika was locked up in a 3×3 glass box, chained to a chair. “Why is she nude sir,” I asked Jzerkov. “To prevent suicide,” he replied. “These terrorists will stop at nothing to avoid answering for their crimes.”

“Well well well,” Angelika said. “If it isn’t the Admiral and his lap dog. It’s Private Detective James from Los Angeles, isn’t it?”

“It’s Colonel James now,” I replied.

“Where’s our missing nuclear scientist, Ms. Antelukolpolous,” the Admiral asked.

“Why should I tell you anything?”

The Admiral took me and Jzerkov aside. “Release her into my custody,” he told Jzerkov.

“This is highly irregular Admiral! She’s standing trial,” Jzerkov replied.

“Look, I need a bargaining chip.”

Jzerkov thought for a second. “Alright, Admiral,” he responded. “But you owe me one.”

The Admiral nodded and went back to interrogating Angelika. “Okay Ms. Anolupolokolopos,” he said. “We are prepared to cut you a deal: charges will be dropped and you will be released into my custody….IF…if….you provide us any information. Just a name will suffice.”

Angelika sat back in her seat and smiled. “If you plan on going after the Ionian Liberation Front, you better bring bigger guns.”

“Angelika, please cooperate,” I said.

“Alright,” she responded. “You want a name, here’s a name. The man who kidnapped your highly esteem scientist is none other than…,” she gave a long pause.

“Dr. Sí”

magnum enforcer vi

I tailed Maxwell to a rub-n-tug in Santa Monica. I sat in the car and waited. I must have gone through an entire pack of cigarettes. After two hours, I went inside.

“Yes, I’m having pain in my groin region and I need it stretched out,” I told the receptionist.

Maxwell came out with a towel around his waist. “Uh, hi James. It’s not what it looks like.”

“Hello Maxwell,” I said as I feigned stupidity. “What does this look like?”

“I just come here to get my prostate massaged. It gets flared.”

I took out a cigarette. “There’s no smoking in here, sir,” the receptionist said. I replaced it with a toothpick. “You got nothing to worry about with me, Maxwell,” I said. “Remember, I’m not on the LAPD anymore.”

“Right.” He gave an awkward laugh. “Well I guess I’ll see you around.”

I eyeballed him as he walked away.

I followed him around town for a few days…to the bars, to the gay clubs, to Knots Berry Farm…but I couldn’t bust him. I was growing tired. I drank. I tried heroin. But I couldn’t shake him from my mind.

Maxwell was good. Too good. But I knew eventually he’d fuck up. And when he did, I’d be there to bust him.

Finally I caught a break.

He picked up a prostitute off Sunset. They drove up to the hills and pulled off to a stop overlooking the Valley. It was late. Too late.

I had to stay back. I could’ve easily been spotted. I perched on top of a ledge overlooking their spot. The windows fogged up in Maxwell’s car. I couldn’t see in.

After several hours without movement, I feared the worst. I pulled out the 357 and walked towards the vehicle. I opened the passenger side door and there laid a strangled prostitute.

Maxwell was nowhere to be found.

Damn it, I thought. How could he have escaped?

Then I heard a beeping. There in the glove box was a timer counting down to zero. I tried to run but the explosion knocked me back several feet.

I got up and checked myself for injuries. There were none. I’m invincible.

I waited next to the smoldering remains for the fire department and the LA Police Chief to arrive. “You’re no longer on the force,” the Chief said. “The is is an official police investigation.”

“Sir,” I replied, “how well do you trust Ellis Shitburg Maxwell?”

“With LP dead, he’s now my best officer. I’d trust him with my wife.”

“This is Maxwell’s car. Last night there was a dead prostitute inside. Don’t you get it? He’s the Hillside Choker!”

“Now you are way out of line James! Charles Krauthammer was the killer and you busted him! The case is CLOSED! You hear me? CLOSED!”

“Will you listen to reason and evidence? Maxwell and Charles are in cahoots! The mayor said himself that crime has gotten out of hand! Maxwell has taken matters into his own hands! He’s gone renegade sir! RENEGADE!”

The Chief got right in my face. “Now you listen here James, and you listen good. There is no vigilante conspiracy in the LAPD. NONE! Not on my watch! Now I am telling you to walk away from this crime scene before I bring you in as a suspect!”

I walked away.

That night I got drunk and started thinking about LP. I stumbled up to Stacy’s door and began pounding. She just put the kids to bed.

“Have you been drinking,” she asked.

“Just started.”

She invited me in poured a vodka. We both sat on the couch.

“How are the kids,” I asked.

“Brutus has taken his father’s death hard. He’s been strangling the neighborhood animals, dissecting them, and leaving the remains on the owner’s porch. Laquisha’s been missing since the funeral.”

I reached out my hand and put it on hers. “And how have you been doing?”

“I’ve been struggling. I just miss LP so much. He was a great husband.”

“I miss him too,” I said.

We both stared into each other’s eyes. We leaned in and kissed.

As I was ramming Stacy silly, I couldn’t help but think of LP… how he was up there watching over us…furiously masturbating in heaven.

magnum enforcer v

“Damn it James,” the police chief said to me at City Hall. “You’re a murderous bastard, but you get results. The rifle in Charles Krauthammer’s exploded car matches the ballistics in LP Anderson’s killing perfectly. Well done.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Good job James,” Officer Maxwell said. I nodded back.

“The mayor will be pleased with this despite the property damage done to the city of Long Beach,” the Chief continued. “Please turn in your badge. Your work here is done.”

I took out my badge and looked at it. “I’d still like to clear out a few of the suspects before this case is closed,” I told the Chief. “I want to be certain that the same shooter that killed LP is also our serial killer.”

Maxwell spoke up. “Our department has conclusively determined that Charles Krauthammer is our killer.”

“You did an excellent job here James,” the Chief said. “No need to second guess yourself. You’re one hell of a detective.”

I handed over the badge.

“Gentlemen,” I said. “It’s been an honor serving the Los Angeles Police Department.”

I returned to my office.

“Is there anything I can do for you James,” Izzy asked. “Coffee, sandwich, drink, hand job? Please let me do something for you.”

“I just want to be left alone for awhile,” I replied.

I shut the door to the office, closed the blinds, and pulled out a bottle of bourbon…the last one LP and me shared. I poured a glass and raised a toast.

“So long LP,” I said.

Seconds later there was a knock on the door.

“Office hours are closed,” I shouted.

The door opened and our Mystery Officer, the one I threatened to shoot at City Hall while shittin and pissin, came in. He sat down and put his feet on the desk.

“You think you’re so smart don’t ya,” he asked.

“No”

“Charles Krauthammer is dead and you can play the hero.”

“What are you on about?”

Officer Mystery sat up in his seat and leaned in. “There’s a lot more to this story than you can possibly imagine.”

I took out another glass and poured him a bourbon. “Talk,” I said.

“Your friends at City Hall, you did them a favor by killing Charles. You did their dirty work. You covered their tracks.”

“Okay?”

“Charles was a patsy. Sure he killed your boy LP, but he’s just one man. You and me both know that crime in this city runs deep. Those prostitutes up in the hills? That’s the work of someone else…or someones.”

“Stop jackin me around. Spit it out. Who’s behind this?”

“Officer Ellis Shitburg Maxwell.”