BLAZING SADDLES, SMOKING TENTACLES CH.4 - BURY THEM WITH THEIR TENTACLES ON

BLAZING SADDLES, SMOKING TENTACLES CH.4 - BURY THEM WITH THEIR TENTACLES ON

by James McShane

The sheriff nurses his wound and throws you a look that suggests you’re off his Christmas card list for the foreseeable future. You shrug. You weren’t the type for Ho-Ho-Ho anyway. You have an important decision to make, though, and with Garlock on his way, you don’t have much time to think things through.

“As far as I can tell, sheriff,” you say, “you have two choices.”

“And what are they, pray tell?”

“You can stay here and die; or leave and possibly live.” You shrug. “Your call.”

The sheriff  hightails it out the saloon door. You then begin the process of dismantling the saloon’s interior and turning it back into your ship, by simply tapping the bottom of a beer tap with a serving spoon. This act opens a drawer beneath the counter, revealing a big red button that reads: Disengage Saloon Interior. Simple really. Once you press that, it’s all systems go.

The entire procedure takes about three minutes. Then another button gets pressed, the one labelled Lift Off, and within a moment, you are in the air and on your way to the mine. If the sheriff and everyone else got clear, good for them. If not, you’re not going to lose any sleep.

You look to the floor and see that Sally is out for the count. The activities of the last hour or so must have taken its toll on the young female. You wonder what you’re going to do about her, but eventually decide to leave her for later. It’s now time to remove all dead weight from the ground – and do it quickly. While Sally didn’t give you an exact schedule, you assume that Garlock won’t waste any time in getting here.

You make it to the mine quick enough. You manoeuvre the ship so as you’re above the entry point and you aim the ship’s guns there. You set phasers to kill.

“So long, suckers,” you chortle.

And then it all goes pear-shaped.

Not only has Sally woken up and is now pointing her own phaser at you (you should have taken the time to check her underclothes – women of all species have been known to hide anything in their pantaloons), but there is a rumble coming from the inside the mine.

“Open a radio channel,” Sally says. “You might be interested in what you hear next.”

Seeing that you don’t have much of a choice, you tap yet another button and a screen appears in front of you. A shimmering image appears, but it doesn’t take you long to realise that it’s Nee-Lin, the leader of the slave group down at the mine.

“Rachorin,” the former slave says. “I see you’ve come back to rescue us.” The sarcasm drips fiercely from his lips. “But you needn’t bother. We’ve worked out our own escape plan.” With that, the rumbling down below becomes more intense, and within minutes, the mine’s exterior falls away and you finally understand that while you were ministering the town’s inhabitants, your slaves have been building their own ship, using – be damned – the very material you sent them to mine.

Talk about taking your eye off the ball.

Or your eyes off the balls.

“Are you coming, Lestine?” Nee-Lin calls Sally by her given name.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she says. She gives you a quick peck on the top of your head. “We could’ve been good together,” she whispers. “But no, you always had your own agenda.” Then it’s her turn to shimmer, as Nee-Lin teleports Sally/Lestine back to the mine that is now an escape ship.

Your number is up. You look at the screen for the final time as a group of missiles head your way. If you had a god, you’d pray to it. But you don’t, so you don’t.

Time to die. 

BLAZING SADDLES, SMOKING TENTACLES CH.4 - GLEEPGLORP'S LAMENT

BLAZING SADDLES, SMOKING TENTACLES CH.4 - GLEEPGLORP'S LAMENT

by Steven Novak

The sheriff is sprawled out on the ground, one hand cupping the wound on his shoulder, mustache slightly curled, a shit-eating grin spread across his stupid face.

He staggers to his feet with a grunt. “Heh. I told ya, Doc. Whatever you were before ya landed here is good n’ gone. Yer a part of this town, ya hear? There’s sand in yer blood, Earth dirt beneath your fingers, and whiskey in yer veins.”

His hand falls to your shoulder, fingers sliding across the slimy surface of the tentacle draped lazily over your shoulder. “Yer a saddle tramp, Doc. Raised on salt lick and browned by the sun of the south. There’s a giddy-up in yer step the likes of which I ain’t seen in damn near a hoolywang.”

Suddenly he’s smiling so bright he’s flashing the few teeth has left. His free hand lands on your other shoulder and gives it a pat. “And ya ain’t no yellow-belly varmint. I know ya ain’t about to vamoose n’ let the people of this town go up the spout. Yer better than that. Yer a healer, a dealer, and a hell of a card player. We’re yer friends.”

His hands slide up your neck and to your face, cupping your cheeks. He nods like he’s known you for years, like he’s your best friend, and your mother, and childhood pal GleebGlorp all rolled into one. “We’re yer family.”

He’s an idiot.

While he was busy nodding and waxing nostalgic about the one time you played poker, one of your tentacles was making its way up his back, heading for his neck. Before he can continue his babbling, you shut him up. Your tentacle wraps around his neck. Your muscles tighten.

His stupid head pops off.

Free from his body and airborne his head spins, spurting blood in every direction, shattered spine wiggling like a horses tail. It bounces off a table across the room and crashes into a monitor. When it finally comes to a stop, you notice the expression on the sheriff’s face.

He’s not smiling anymore.

When Sally screams you crack her in the chops, knock her into the wall, and put her to sleep.  There’s no reason to kill her. She might still be good for something. Weird half-human sex, maybe? She seemed pretty handy with those whips. So what if she double-crossed you? So what if she used her womanly wares to get the better of you? Made you look silly? Hurt your pride? Dented your ego? So what if she took advantage of you when you were at your lowest? When you falsely believed this backnebula planet and it’s backnebula lifeforms actually had something to offer? So what if GleepGlorp would’ve been ashamed of what you’ve become? So what if you do…

On second thought, fluuonk her.

Your tentacles dig into her chest, peel back her ribs and tear out her half-breed heart. It’s gross, not quite human and not quite you. It’s pink and purple, and speckled green. It’s an abomination.

Her father should be ashamed.

Fluuonk them all.

With a few tweaks of the levers and dials in front of you the saloon unfolds from your ship once again, crushing three or four slack-jawed locals in the process. 

Fluuonk them too.

You don’t need this place, or these creatures. You never did. You only became a “doctor” because you found it hilariously ironic. You don’t save stuff. You kill stuff. You’ve always killed stuff.

The blood from Sally and Sheriff begins to pool at your feet, green and red, human and alien, and all sort of nastiness. It’s going to be a pain in one of your three rectums to clean up. Still, it was worth it.

GleepGlorp would be proud.

By the time you exit the saloon the locals are have already gathered. Some of them are pointing guns in your direction. Others are cowering behind barrels or peeking through windows. A lot of them are screaming.

You’d roll your eyes, but its more effort than they’re worth.

You’re going to do what you should have done long ago. You’re going to corral these creatures like they corral the lifeforms lower than them. You’re going to strip them bare, shackle them, and teach them a rather harsh lesson about hubris, and their place in the universe, and the grand scheme of things. It’s long overdue.

A rock hits your head. Another bounces off your chest. One of them unloads a shotgun in your direction and it ricochets off the Rumanetic Forcefield you’ve erected around your body. Another fires his revolver. Three of his friends follow his lead. It takes nearly a minute and a half of pointless shooting before they realize it’s accomplishing nothing. When the shooting stops, old Mildred McGraw chucks her cat.

Oh yes, this is so incredibly overdue.

As you move from the saloon and into the street, your tentacles spread in every direction, tips twitching, suction cups drooling. “Now that you’ve gotten that out of your system.”

Hansen McGillicutty lunges at you from behind, knife raised, gritting through yellow-stained teeth and a beard in desperate need of a trim. “Ya son of a bitch! Gonna gut yer hear…”

He slams into your forcefield face-first, smashes his nose and chokes on his own blood. You rip his arm from his torso and use it to knock Mildred McGraw on her ass.

That’s for the cat.

Most of the crowd screams. Some of them start to cry. A few of them run. You extend a second forcefield further down the block and chuckle when they slam into it.

GleepGlorp would have loved that.

When they realize there’s nowhere to go and nothing to do, most of the crowd gives up, staring in your direction with unbelieving eyes. The time has come. The end is near. Those that believe in God, have come to the grim realization that you are it.  

It’s almost enough to make you grin.

“Most of you probably know me as Doc, but that is a foolish title, given by foolish lifeforms, on a shphithole planet at the ass-end of the universe. I am tired of tending to you. I’m sick of doing my best to heal your injures! I’m sick of pretending that I care what happens to your fragile bodies!”

You point to a skinny man near the back of the crowd. “You, Charles Smith! I inserted my finger into your rectum to check your prostate! I did that! That’s something I did to keep you from learning what I was! Do you have any idea how humiliating that was for me? Do you?”

Before Charles can respond you knock him through the window of a dress shop.

“I am through! My days of seeing to your sniffles, and coughs, and pains are history! The time has come for you to learn your place! To be treated like the ghastly, poorly constructed, weak-bodies monstrosities you are! The time has come for you to clean my bedpan! To bring me food! To stick your fingers in my rectum! The time has come to lear…”

The saloon behind you explodes, transforming into a fireball of splintered wood, and scaled steel, shooting in every direction. The inferno engulfs everything, scatters the crowd, tossing bodies, and removing limbs, bathing the street in blood and cooking flesh. The forcefield falls from your body. When you hit the dirt you hit hard. When you hit it again, you hit harder. For a moment you’re spinning, caught in the blaze, surrounded by fire and smoke, unable to determine up from down, tips of your tendrils on fire. You don’t stop spinning until you hit a horse, knock it over and wind up waist deep in its trough.

Before you open your eyes you hear the familiar hum of a ship, hovering somewhere above, obscured by the smoke and debris. Trexlarion Panels shift. Energy weapons recharge. The bounty hunter.

You forgot about the damn bounty hunter.

You don’t see the shot that blasts you to atoms.

GleepGlorp would be ashamed.

BLAZING SADDLES, SMOKING TENTACLES CH.3 - ALIENS IN BONDAGE

BLAZING SADDLES, SMOKING TENTACLES CH.3 - ALIENS IN BONDAGE

by James McShane

Before you come to the realisation that you’re making this up as you go, you grab Sally’s arm roughly and drag her with you out of the attic. You have a semblance of a plan in your head, but it requires an element of luck. You hope that this is the one moment in this forsaken day that luck with fall your way.

And as it happens, it does – here comes the sheriff, and he’s brought a small posse with him. You love a good posse. You and Sally meet him at the back of the church.

“I’m going to need you to create a distraction, Sheriff,” you say hastily. “I have reason to believe that Sally here knows a good deal about what’s going down with our guest back at the town.”

“That’s why I came a-runnin’,” the sheriff says. “Our mutual friend is muttering this here lady’s name under his breath. I’m a-thinkin’ they know each other.”

This guy paid attention at sheriff school, you think. Nothing much is going to pass him by. Best make speed.

“I’ll bring her with me,” you say as you catch a couple of spare horses. “Any chance you can gain us some wriggle room?” You cock your head in the direction of Biff’s lynch mob. “They may impede our progress.” The sheriff nods his head eagerly.

“Me and the boys love us a good punch-up,” he says way too enthusiastically. “The letter of the law shall be applied this day.” He turns to his men. “Let’s go, boys. The doc and his ladyfriend need to solve themselves a mystery.”

“That’s not all they need to do,” a voice from the back says. “I think they mean to get down and dirty. I hear that Sally one has a liking for ropes and blindfolds.”

Your female companion gets a touch indignant. “Is that you, Slack Harry?” she cries out. “The last time I saw you, you were paying me very well for my services. You said I was the best Dom you ever had.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, stepping out from behind the sheriff. “And I have the bruises to show for it.”

You turn to Sally. “Now is not the time or place to discuss your peccadilloes. We have to go see that al…fellow back in my room.” You jump on the horse. Ride, Sally. Ride.”

You leave the sheriff, Slack Harry, and the rest of the posse to create a disturbance, enabling you and Sally to make it back to the wounded alien quickly and in one piece.  When you arrive on the scene, the patient is in full human form and appears to be sleeping rather than passed out. He appears healed. But you kind of knew that was going to happen.

“Do you recognise him?” you ask Sally.

She shrugs. “He looks a lot younger than he did when they took him away to hang him, but that’s my daddy.” You nod, because you knew this.  “Let him sleep a bit more,” she continues. “When he wakes, he will tell you everything you need to know.”

You go to a cupboard and take out a bottle of hooch. It’s all you can afford on your doctor’s salary. You’re not a big drinker but you keep it around – for medicinal purposes. You pour a couple of healthy measures for the two of you.

“Tell me about the ropes and blindfolds,” you say hesitantly. You swig back the full contents of your drink and then refill your glass.  Sally gets a twinkle in her eyes. You stare straight back at her. “I’m asking a serious question,” you say.

The man on the table moans in his sleep. You can see that already his form is beginning to change once more. You don’t have much time before the same thing starts to happen to you. Maybe to Sally, too, seeing that she’s progeny. You know what happens to your kind once you get, well, excited.

“A lot of my customers ask to be dominated,” Sally says. “I’m not just a songstress. I possess more than just a beautiful voice. I provide that which modern science and Christian faith does not and cannot provide.”

You knock back your second shot and pour yourself a third. Sally has yet to start her first. You are coming close to the point of no return, but you can’t contain your urges that much longer. Now you know why Sally contacted you. She knows your weakness. She inherited that knowledge from her father. But even so, you’re powerless to prevent what happens next.

“What do you provide then?” you ask in a hushed tone.

“Relief,” she whispers as she moves closer. “Solace. A place in which a person can become truly him- or herself. I provide to both male and female. Sometimes at once,” she adds winking at you. “I brought something with me.” She rummages through her bag and takes out a long black silk eye mask, a three foot length of chain, some rope, and a ball gag. It was a big bag, but you didn’t think it could carry all that. But then you realise, the material it’s made from isn’t from this planet. After your fourth shot (yes, you poured another drink as Sally emptied the contents of her bag), you’ve become slightly inebriated. Your excitement is reaching fever point; the point where your species begins to differ from humankind (aside from the odd flash of tentacle, that is). Sally knows this and you wonder why she’s acting against her nature. Surely she should be on the side of her family.

Her father opens his eyes and peers at his daughter. “Sally?” he mutters. “What is happening to you? Why are you here?”

Sally reaches into bag once more and takes out a two foot stiletto. Without engaging her father in any conversation, she plunges the dagger into his right eye. He stiffens, spasms, then falls still. He is as dead as he should have been when Sally obviously shot him earlier. By this stage you’re hoping for some more luck. You hope that the sheriff has finished off Biff and the gang, and is on his way back here now.

Sally moves swiftly. With a skill set that can only come from a true professional, she has you chained up, blindfolded, and gagged. She teases the point of her stiletto up and down your cheek. You are in danger, you know this, but you cannot help but be aroused.

“He is on his way for you now, Rachorin,” she says, using your given name. “I have you all wrapped up nice and neat. The only thing missing is a bow.”

It is then that your form begins to change.

You consider your options. 


A. You wait for the sheriff to come and save the day, allowing you ample time to question Sally about what the hell is going on.

B. You transform completely into your alien form, at which time anything could happen.

C. You manage to escape your bonds and change places with Sally. 

BLAZING SADDLES, SMOKING TENTACLES CH.2 - SHOOTOUT AT THE E.T. CORRAL

BLAZING SADDLES, SMOKING TENTACLES CH.2 - SHOOTOUT AT THE E.T. CORRAL
by Jax Java

You urgently lead Sally toward Maggie, instructing Maggie to see Sally to the secret tunnel leading to the abandoned gold mine, “Get her out of here as fast as you can!” 

You barricade the door to the church and push as many pews as you can against it.  The hooves have slowed and you can hear voices shouting outside the steps.  You rush over to the altar and flip it over, revealing the secret cache of guns used to protect the church from marauders.  Loading up your tentacles with the finest weaponry God could make, you look up and see the two women staring at you with mouths gaping open.

“What are you waiting for?  GET OUT OF HERE NOW!”

The ladies turn and go to the preacher’s confessional, turning the lamp hanging by the door, which reveals a hidden panel entry to the tunnel.  With another glance of fear over their shoulders, they walk into the darkness. 

Relieved when you see the panel slide shut, you stride up the bell tower steps, taking them three at a time until you emerge in the blazing sun before the Biff and his posse in the courtyard below.

“I’m going to show you a real life close encounter of the third kind!” you shriek, raising your tentacles and taking aim.

The posse below raise their guns in retort. “Give her back and walk away,” Biff yells down the barrel of his gun.

“Not going to happen, not ever,” you yell back, cocking the guns and glaring against the sun.

“Game over! What are we going to do now? What are we gonna do?” Biff screamed back.

“How about we make a campfire, sing a couple of songs?” you sneer as you open fire, firing round after round of bullets in a storm of lead, gunsmoke and despair at the posse.

The posse dives and rolls out of range, firing back. You barely feel the bullets hitting you, as you continue firing until you run out of bullets.  You are woozy, your wounds mortal, you sway in the sun on top of the bell tower. You smile smugly to yourself knowing Sally is on her way to safety. Looking toward the sky and longing for home, you sway forward, over the railing and down the roof, dead before you hit the ground in the courtyard.

BLAZING SADDLES, SMOKING TENTACLES CH.2 - EAT, HOPE, PREY

BLAZING SADDLES, SMOKING TENTACLES CH.2 - EAT, HOPE, PREY
By Nathan Nixon

Sally looks at you and places her hand on your slightly discoloured jaw. “Doc, we've got to get out of here. Our kind isn't happy with either of us. You playing doctor for these humans, and me, being a mix breed; they’re gonna kill us if we don't leave town.” You raise your arm and place her hand in yours, removing her grip from your face. Her grip releasing, creates small sounds of suction popping. You look deep into her eyes, noticing her deep bulging green pupils. Slant, much like some sort of reptile. You watch as Sally changes her eyes at will, turning them brown to look more human.

 “There's a reason I left home Sally,” you console her. “This has more to do with me than you think.”

There's a loud boom downstairs, as one of the creatures kicks in the churches double doors. “We can talk about it later, right now we've got to save our slimy skins!” she yells.

You see a small window over-looking the roof of the church. You draw your gun from its holster with your right hand, and wrap your left arm around Sally's waist. Charging toward the window, you use the butt of the gun to break out every shard of glass. The creatures from back home surround the church outside. Riding up on what appears to be mutated horses. God knows what experiments they've been doing on these earth creatures. They close in on the church as you coax Sally to start out through the window. Still being the gentleman you are, you turn your head as she raises her dress to move her legs through the tiny opening, leading to the church rooftop. You point your laser gun in the attackers’ direction and begin firing. Sally starts to run across the church roof, slipping, she begins to slide in her Victorian style boots. She falls and lands on her bottom near the edge of the roof. From there, she removes her boots and stands barefoot. Her alien feet suction to the rooftop, much like a lizard of some sort. She now begins to run. You climb out the window and

chase in behind her. Lasers fly overhead as the creatures from back home, shoot in Sally's and your direction. You whistle loudly calling your steed. Now your horse runs toward your direction, waiting on the ground below.

 “Jump on the horse Sally!” you yell out over the sounds of lasers and bullets. Down on the ground you see the sheriff firing at the attackers, a pistol in each hand. Sally leaps from the roof and lands on your trusty steed. Then, suddenly... you hear a sound you haven’t heard since you left home.

Vrmmmmmmmm.

It's the sound of a teleporter. You turn to find a seven foot tall creature standing on the roof behind you. He's sporting an old familiar grin; a long dirty black duster jacket, and a black cowboy hat. His teeth razor sharp, and his eyes piercing into your soul. You recognize him.

 “It's been awhile.” he snarls, as he grabs you by your throat.

“So, they sent you, huh? The so-called greatest bounty hunter in the universe.”

 “Nothing so-called about it. I am, indeed, very much what they say.”

Tentacles begin to inch out from behind his coat, growing and sprouting. “After all I managed to track your ass down, didn't I? I even brought a few soldiers with me to help take you in. This is a nice little set up you got here. Little warm, but plenty to eat. I do enjoy some human flesh.”

Just then you hear a loud bang, and the bounty hunters head explodes. His carcass drops to the ground, as green slime explodes all over your face. His body loses its grip on you, and what's left of him falls off the church roof and onto the ground below. The sheriff is standing below, blowing the smoke off of his hot pistol. 

 “Greatest bounty hunter in the universe, my ass! Doc, get down here! You get this lady somewhere safe. I'll hold them off!”

 You jump off the roof and land between your horse and the carcass of the bounty hunter. Sally motions you to hurry. “Sheriff, you’re going to need my help,” you exclaim.

More of the creatures from back home make their way up the street. “No time for that, Doc, this woman needs to be taken somewhere safe! I can hold my own just fine.”

You nod in agreement, and climb up on your horse in front of Sally. Taking the reins as she holds onto you for dear life, her hands suctioned to you. The two of you ride off, leaving the town, with a dust trail behind. The sheriff stays, firing bullets and dodging lasers. He knows he won’t survive, but at least he'll go down with a fight. Unknown to him, the body of the bounty hunter begins to move. Slowly he grows back another head. He stands up, placing his hat back on. The sheriff turns to find the seven foot tall creature towering over him. “No need to cook him with your lasers boys, I'll eat this one raw!” the monster yells, before sinking his teeth into the Sheriffs throat, shredding him to pieces.

Way outside of town you continue riding with Sally, making your escape. Suddenly, the moment is interrupted by the familiar sound from back home.

Vrmmmmmmmmm

A flash of blue light appears, and in its center stands the world’s greatest bounty hunter.

The horse stops dead in its tracks, throwing you and Sally onto the ground. You begin to confront the attacker.

“You, you were dead! The Sheriff took your head clean off!”

 “I was never much like you or the others. Much like this little creature here,” he said, extending his tentacles and wrapping them around Sally. She began to scream, as he wrapped his slimy arm around her mouth, silencing her. “Nah, humans and your kind aren't the only intelligent beings in this strange universe of ours. I'm born from something greater. I can't die, unlike that puny snack of mine that you two called a sheriff!”

You climb to your feet, racing to rescue Sally from the Bounty Hunter. He drags her across the dirt into his clutches. He then extends another tentacle in your direction. Quickly you draw out your laser gun. You fire your weapon at the arm that's dragging Sally. It cuts the tentacle in half, leaving her bound on the ground. Angry, he directs his attention toward you. Extending another tentacle, he knocks your weapon to the ground. You now find yourself defenseless. He shoves his slimy appendages down your throat, choking you. Everything around you begins to fade. Slowly it grows darker and darker, your last sounds being your own choking, and Sally's screams.

BLAZING SADDLES, SMOKING TENTACLES CH.2 - SALOON SALLY SINGS

BLAZING SADDLES, SMOKING TENTACLES CH.2 - SALOON SALLY SINGS

By Christine M. Butler

The stench of laser-burned flesh tickles your nose as you inform the Sheriff that you will get everything taken care of. You look down at the still-burned figure before you, and bow once more, assuring the Sheriff again that the alien will be all right until you can get back.

You step out into the late afternoon sun, feeling it bake your skin as you take in a few gulps of searing hot air. It is hot as a whorehouse on nickel night. Not exactly the refreshing feeling you’d hoped for, but better than smelling the remnants of laser-blasted tentacles. You take the folded up piece of paper out of your pocket, and notice the flourish of dainty script that could only have come from a woman’s hand.

Doc,

You are the first of your kind I’ve seen in some time. I wasn’t sure, at first, if I could trust you. Now, I’m running out of time. I need your help, before they find me, and before the towns folk here realize what I am. Please, you are my last hope.

Maggie has kindly given me a temporary sanctuary in the church attic, but I won’t be there long.

~Sally

You re-read the letter twice more, not quite sure what to make of it. There was a time “your kind” might have meant the skin you’d chosen to walk among the inhabitants of this planet. What they called “natives” were still unwelcome most places, but you’d managed to settle in just fine anyway. After your talk with the Sherriff, you’re not sure how many people you actually fooled with your disguise though. You find a small bit of peace in understanding that the big bub himself knows what you are, and he hasn’t run you out, or strung you up yet. It gives you hope. You take a moment to consider your options, but the conjured image of saloon songstress Sally puts your croaker thoughts to rest. There was always something captivating about her, even if you didn’t fall under the same spell everyone else seemed to when she cranked up her pipes.

You head to the church to go appease your own curiosity. Dust settles thick on your boots as you walk. Rain is long overdue in these parts, and doesn’t appear to be on the horizon in the near future. You watch as a horse out front of the Hotel Grand takes a piss in the road. It’s the first thing you notice as you amble back towards the church. As you get closer, Maggie, the preacher’s wife, is peeking out of the curtains of the little shack she shares with her husband. You tip your hat slightly, and she flutters away.

You don’t even hesitate as you approach the church, taking that first step up, heading to the door. That is when you realize your mistake. “Dad-blame it!” You curse under your breath. The paint on the steps is still wet, and now your boot print is there for all to see. You backtrack and walk around to the side of the church where the preacher’s door is. You jiggle the handle, and find it’s been locked. You are hot, tired, and just about to give up, turn around, and head back to the shop when the lock clicks over. The door cracks just enough for a set of bright green eyes to peek out.

“Ma’am.” You tilt your head in her direction, noting the trail of fiery red curls that that pop into view.

“Quick.” Sally throws the door open and reaches for your arm, dragging you inside before slamming the rickety wooden door shut again. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” She keeps walking, and you follow her. Sally reaches up to grasp the catch on the attic door, and pulls it down to reveal a makeshift set of stairs. As Sally ascends, you can’t help but notice and appreciate her curvy figure. When she sits on the floor at the top of the stairs to swing her legs up and over, you politely look away until she gives you the all clear. You proceed to follow her up into the small attic space where you must stay hunched over in order to avoid knocking your head on the rafters.

You take out the paper that the barman slipped you earlier. “Sally, I’m not sure…”

She cuts you off before you can finish your sentence. “Shh.” Her finger finds its way to hover over your lips as she speaks. “We don’t have time. I got word this morning. There are men coming to take me away, and I need your help to get out of here.”

“I’m not sure what I can do for you.” You tell her honestly.

“I’m not what I appear to be, and neither are you.” Her gritty accent is lost from her voice as she speaks. “My father is the same as you.” Your eyes widen just a bit as she continues her story. “He came to our town on a mission to blend, learn, and see if this place could work for his kind. I don’t think anyone ever thought of mixing with the humans here, but my father met my mom and he fell in love.”

Sally was looking off into the distance seeing another time and place unfold before her. You stand there, patiently waiting for her to finish. “She knew, of course. It’s hard to hide when your kind gets…” Sally bites her lip, and you can’t take your eyes off her mouth as she does. “Excited.” She finishes with a blush in her cheeks.

“Anyway, everything was fine for them. No one ever knew our two species could reproduce together, but apparently it works. I’m proof. The humans in our town never suspected. I grew up normal with no outward signs of tentacles.” Sally blushes again as she holds up her hands. “My fingers change if I’m angry, or I need the suction for things.” She demonstrates, and you are flabbergasted as her fingers turn to wavy tentacles before your very eyes. You know, now, that her story must be true. “I was set to marry Biff Jenkins not long ago, but there was an emergency. My mom’s Uncle Jeb, the town drunk, fell off his bar stool and knocked his head in pretty good. They went to get mom, since she has some knowledge of medicine. Well, she and dad were in an intimate position when Harvey Dingle, the deputy, burst in on them. Harvey saw what happens when your kind is excited, and he ran blabbing his mouth.”

Sally grabs your hand, pleading to you with her eyes. “They hanged my daddy. Hanging doesn’t kill your kind though, and he managed to escape while the town drank themselves stupid in celebration. I’m not sure what happened to momma, because I was forced to run too. Biff, my fiancé, has been trying to track me down ever since. I got wind that he caught my trail again, and he’s headed here now.”

You take everything in and let out a deep sigh. “You want me to get you out of town before he shows up?”

“Please!” The urgency in her tone makes her angelic voice crack. Sally grasps your hands in hers to add to her plea. Just as you are about to agree anyway, you hear several sets of hooves approaching outside at a fast pace. “Oh, no!” Sally yelps. It’s your turn to put a finger on her plump, rosy lips.

“Shh, I know just what to do, sweet Sally.”

You have a choice to make.

A)  You hide Sally and confront her alien-hating ex-fiancé, Biff Jenkins, and his posse. If you utilize your tentacles, you can fire more guns at once, and possibly take them all out in quick order.

B)   You sneak Sally around the back of the buildings while the raucous newcomers offer distraction for the Sheriff. You take her to see the wounded alien, thinking that maybe his group can offer her refuge, or possibly have information on Sally’s father. After all, there aren’t that many of their kind supposed to be settled in these parts.

C)     You realize this town just got too hot to handle and you bug out with the sexy songstress in your saddle as a consolation prize.