Our story begins as most do – out on a dusty old trail somewhere out west. This particular trail happens to lead to an old mining town who's name has been lost to history, and is as dead and bare as the mine below it. Well, almost as dead, anyway – it's currently serving as a hideout of about a dozen cold-blooded killers, men rotten to the core: "The Butchers," a gang well known to this part of northwestern Colorado. They may be a small-time bandits, but the amount of terror they've spread throughout the region has left a sizeable bounty on the head of their leader, Ned Granger.
A posse was formed in Denver to collect that bounty by an hombre named "OB." OB was out for revenge, having been a victim from one of Ned's gang's early offenses, and offered this posse the whole $1,000 bounty should they help finish the job. Together, they tracked The Butchers between a few towns, killed a few of them, and finally learned of this ghost-town hideout. Through an unfortunate run-in with one of these snakes on the road to their hideout, OB didn't make it. But that's neither here nor there; this story ain't about OB. It's about The Posse:
- Doc Linus Lynchwood – a Blacksmitch-turned-inventor from back East
- Lucian "Snek" Slade – a rough-and-tumble gun for hire
- Musky Cat – a self-proclaimed "professional vagrant"
- J.B. Plissken – a smooth-talking salesman of anything and everything
- Matthias Sanders – a whiskey-loving bounty hunter
- Viktor Coltovsky – a Russian immigrant looking for a new life
Determined to collect after making it this far, the Posse devised a quick plan to distract the Butchers and take them by surprise. Plisskin, Victor, and Musky approached with a proverbial White Flag while Plissken spun a quick tale of wanting to join up with these folk. Naturally, the outlaws started surrounding them with guns ready, but at least they were listening. Plissken had no real intention of convincing the gang, but his silver tongue was sure to buy the others time to get the drop on 'em.
Meanwhile, Snek was sneaking around behind the mine and made his way into an old burnt-out building, waiting for some sort of signal from Plissken. Problem was, they didn't decide on a signal before setting out. He figured he'd just wait for a sign of real trouble.
Plissken, sensing his audience wasn't buying that he and his friends would be useful additions, reached out to Viktor and asked for "the bottle". Not wanting to argue in their current position, Viktor slowly pulled out a bottle of his lesser sprits – some old whiskey from who-knows-where – and tried not to look curious or irritated. Plissken, naturally, started one of his snake-oil bits about how this "tonic" would sharpen a man's senses like everyday whiskey dulls them. After a quick and dramatic pause, he took a swig and threw the bottle up in the air – and every one of those suckers looked up at it.
As if it had been planned all along, Snek took this as the signal and opened fire, dropping one of the butchers before they knew what was happening. Viktor and Plissken both slapped leather, opened fire, and ran for cover. Musky hunkered down and started waving his arms, muttering some kind of mumbo-jumbo, and conjured up a windstorm up up by the mine, taking out another butcher. The Doc and Matthias rushed out from hiding to help, slinging lead and "whilly whipple" grenades.
The Butchers, even though they out-gunned the Posse, were sorely outmatched. One by one they dropped like flies to a flame. Figuring whatever was left of the gang was holed up in the one intact building, Musky strolled up to an open window, lit a few sticks of of dynamite, and tossed in it…
Everyone saw it, and with widened eyes and great surprise anyone still on their feet dived for cover. With a great BOOM! the house fell to splinters, dust and debris covered the area, and only our heroic hombres were left alive – all with looks of excited disbelief except for Musky, who stood chuckling by the wreckage with a big ol' smile.