“Draw,” said Charlie Blanche. A wave of renewed alertness swept over the onlookers as they shared a collective inhalation. Now the show would begin! Albert took a deep breath of his own. “Um . . . no.” A perplexed buzzing from the townsfolk. The pretty blond woman regarded Albert with a look of confused dismay. “What do you mean, no?” Blanche narrowed his eyes further, nearly squinting them out of existence. Albert took another deep breath. “I . . . I don’t wanna do this. You’re a way better shot than me, and so before this gets outta hand and we both get all crazy and dead here, I . . . I don’t wanna have a shoot-out.” “You yellow, Stark?” The corner of Blanche’s mouth twisted into a perversion of a half smile— no doubt the warmest expression his long-rotted disposition would accommodate. “Well, look, yellow is kind of a”—Albert paused uneasily—“I mean, that’s kind of racist to our hardworking friends from the Far East, right, guys?” He turned to a small cluster of Chinese railroad workers watching from off to the side. Surely now he’d get a small boost of support. The shortest Chinaman gave him the finger. “O-okay,” Albert stuttered. “Welcome.” Blanche barked out a gravelly laugh. “Even the damn Chinese know you’re yellow!” (an excerpt from ‘A Million Ways to Die in the West’ by Seth MacFarlane)
Posted on: Fri, 28 Feb 2014 01:40:36 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015