Simi Valley Round-up

Afternoon sun bathed the small Wild West outpost when the Desparados rode into town. They had come to pay homage to the Gipper, that long lost hero of America. This was not the only reason for the gang to assemble, however. They were to meet for the first time as a gang of eight. They all carried a solemn, similar goal, the overthrow of the President. This meeting would work to flesh out how the gang would accomplish the goal, but they all knew that this meeting was more than that. This meeting would establish who would be the leader of the gang. The tension built as the gang joked amongst themselves, stabled horses and made their way to the bar. The boisterous locals hushed at the unfamiliar faces. 

It was clear from the onset that some of the characters had more swagger than others. Two of the cowboys stomped to the bar and ordered drinks for one another, complementing stories and reputations, clarifying incorrect beliefs. These two starred each other down with steely eyes, neither breaking. The one carried the heat of Texas, it was in his walk and in his speech. It was in his confidence too. The other was from way-up Massachusetts. He had confidence too, and a whole heap of it. His wit cut like a stiff nor-easter, wiping up the waves and tearing at the shore. It escaped no one how the two periodically checked their pieces. 

They both carried famous weapons, weapons that have been passed along by generation. The man from Massachusetts carried a complicated, wicked looking piece the likes of which no one could understand. It's called Universal Healthcare, but is better known as Romney Care. No one knows how many souls have been laid to waste already by this vile tool, or how many may yet fall.

The feller from Texas carried a simple looking piece, but it was well known to be accurate, hard hitting, and difficult to recover from, even though it's size made it seem a little ridiculous. In the right hands this piece could be wielded with devastating results. The most recent gunslinger to throw around with the Straight Shooter had embroiled the nation in a two front war for the first time in sixty-odd years. Simple it may be, but dangerous nonetheless. 

The other ruffians carried pieces in various configurations as well. One had a double-barrel shotgun of Immigration Reform. Another carried the Whip of Bringing the Troops Home. One particularly maniacal looking older man even dragged behind him the Gatling Gun of Government Reduction. 

The group got a little raucous at one point, sparring and debating about jobs, and the economy, and what some of the banditos had done in their respective territories to address these problems. The man from Texas and the man from Massachusetts pushed and shoved each other some, causing a bit of a scene while the others tousled among themselves or reminisced about older days with the Gipper when things weren't so tough. It was Mama Tea Party who brought them all back onto the subject of wresting the government from the control of the Donkeys and the President. 

It was clear that the man from Texas has the swagger, but he is also a cutthroat, and the nation still licks it's wounds from the last cutthroat President. The man from Massachusetts has the gumption too, but it still isn't clear that his policies can be accepted by common folks. The others showed why they are not front runners in the competition for Numero Uno, but the Vice President spot could be open to several of them for future debates. 

As they all cleared out, the locals looked about in disbelief. A broken chair, a few scratches on the bar, but all-in-all the little town had made it unscathed through the event. The panic that had gripped the place only an hour and forty-five minutes earlier seemed to dissipate with the sun sinking into the western sea. Life could return to normal.