"Tanner, you been holdin'
out on us."
"Whaddaya mean, cowboy?"
"I mean," Chris said slowly, the
famed Larabee menace beginning to creep into his words, "that there's a
reason why, to date, none of us have seen ya get really stinkin'
drunk." He glared at his friend from over the rim of his third bottle of
Red Eye.
"You *know* the reason, Chris,"
grunted an exasperated Vin Tanner, who toyed with his shot glass uneasily.
"I been runnin' from this bounty for so long,
ain't nothin' but trouble if'n
I drink enough to git my tongue waggin'."
"Uh-uh..." Chris shook an
admonitory finger in his friend's face; Vin's eyes
followed it back and forth. "There ain't no way a
man can put up with the crap you do an' stay sober. Just ain't the natural
order of things."
"Thash
right!" added Josiah from his solitary corner, before hiccuping
loudly. "Th' besh shpirits're alwaysh the kind in a
bottle." He punctuated his statement with a soft belch.
"Okay, so how d'ya
think I do it?" challenged Vin.
Chris leaned closer to his best friend and
whispered conspiratorially, "How many bullet holes you got in ya since we
all hooked up?"
"You know I ain't the best with figures,
Chris... What's yer point?"
"My point is that you got somethin' goin' with Nathan," Chris said softly, "You get
him to open up them bullet holes a'yours.
So thataway, when you do decide to drink, all the
liquor just ends up pourin' out.
You can plug up as many holes as ya like-
Nathan probably gives you a cork're
somethin'. When you want to get real drunk, you plug 'em
all up, but when you wanna stay sober, you unplug 'em
all. Am I right?"
"Hell, no, Chris," Vin snorted, but to Chris's eye, Tanner appeared to gulp and
shift nervously.
"Okay, we'll see about that." Chris
turned to the rest of the saloon and bellowed at the top of his voice,
"GUYS!"
At the summons, the rest of the seven came
over. Buck and J.D. sauntered over casually, laughing about something, while
Ezra tore himself away from his card game. Josiah twirled gracefully across the
floor, evading a very reluctant Nathan, who crept over from his own chair. Once
the others ensconced themselves at the bar, Chris expounded his theory, and was
met with a series of considering nods.
"So that's how he does it!"
exclaimed J.D. "Dang, Vin! That's pretty smart."
"That would explain it, Chris,"
affirmed Buck, darting a glance at the sharpshooter, who frowned at him.
"Thank you, Buck," Chris said, and
then looked at Nathan. "You mind explainin'
yourself Jackson?" Nathan fidgeted under the Larabee Glare, lips working
soundlessly and fingers moving in anxiety.
"Actually, uh, I do, Chris.
Doctor-patient confidentiality an'all that,"
Jackson said after a moment.
"Nathan..." Chris's hand began a
slow path toward the peacemaker on his right hip.
"Okay! Okay!" Nathan broke down,
directing a glance of silent apology to Vin, who
scowled horribly. "I admit it! Vin's got more
holes in him than Swiss cheese. They're all plugged up with some corks I got
off this wine merchant back East. I'm hopin' he's not gonna get shot many more times, 'cause I'm runnin' out."
"Thanks a whole hell of a lot,
Nathan," grumbled Vin.
Nathan kept on, to Vin's
horror. "That's why he wears that jacket of his all the time, y'know- when the alcohol leaks out, it stains his shirt, so
he's gotta wrap up in his coat to hide it." This
announcement was met
with five accepting nods.
"Well then, Vin, you
ain't got nothin' to hide from us," said Chris coaxingly. "Show us some skin."
"Go t'hell,
Larabee. I ain't showin' you nothin'."
"Already there,
and yes you are. Josiah, grab him." At Chris's orders, Josiah lurched up
from his chair; Ezra moved to block Vin's attempt at
flight, and Vin found himself swept up into a huge bear hug. Struggling and
cursing got him nowhere, as Buck and J.D. moved to seize Vin's
feet.
Chris strolled forward as if he had all the
time in the world before striking with the speed of a cobra and pulling Vin's shirt out of his pants.
Sure enough, three corks stuck out of Vin's abdomen. Experimentally, Chris pulled one out, then reached behind Vin to pull out the corresponding one
stuck in his back.
"Wow... I can see your shirt from here,
Josiah," said Chris, awestruck.
"Lemme see,
Chris," begged J.D.
"Not now, J.D." Larabee said
slowly. "Damned if this ain't the wildest thing I've ever seen."
"There's one in his arm, and another
higher up," added Nathan.
"You realize, of course, that there are
endless possibilities for profit in this," mused
Ezra. "For Mr. Jackson and myself... yes, ah, the
prospects seem quite nice from here..."
"Hey, if Vin
can only get drunk when he wants to, I bet there's a whole stash hidden away in
that wagon of his," surmised Buck.
"No there
ain't, an' put me down!" bellowed Vin.
"Only if you agree to show us where
you're hidin' all that hooch a'yours,"
Buck said.
"No way in hell. That's good stu- ah, I mean, I ain't got any!"
"You hear that boys?!" Chris
half-shouted in indignation. "The man I trust with my life, the man who
you all count on to watch your backs is *hiding liquor from us.* What're we gonna do about that?"
In answer, Josiah dropped Vin,
Buck and J.D. let go of his legs, and all of them- minus Tanner- headed for the
door and the Vinnebago, leaving Vin behind to look
for the corks that Chris had dropped in his excitement.
THE END