SMARMSLUT MASTER: Hem..ahem. Greetings, fellow BrigaDears. I am happy to announce a voluntary change in the order of things around here...

SMARMSLUT QUEEN (enraged): There was nothing voluntary about it! Give me back my whip!

MASTER: Um, Smarmslut Adept, would you please remind the Smarmslut Queen who's running things around here?

SMARMSLUT ADEPT: Yes, you should behave, or we'll do some of the things to you that we're gonna do to Ezra in this story!

QUEEN (now panicked and contrite): I'll be good!

MASTER: That's better. Now-as SmarmSlut Master and current head honchette, I'm pleased to present the next part of our story.

QUEEN: (muttering) You won't be so smart once I get my whip back!

MASTER: OK, you asked for it!

(LOUD WHIP CRACK)

MASTER: Owwwwwww!!!!!!!!

QUEEN: Nice whip cracking, there.

ADEPT: Ooooo, right on the nose!

MASTER: Ooooo...eeergggg...I thought only Ezra could bleed around here...well, while I'm riding over to Nathan's for stitches, enjoy the next part of "Ashes of the Mind", brought to you by Robert's Sarsparilla Syrup and Oven Cleaner.

QUEEN: Quick, while she's distracted-get the whip!

(SCRAMBLE FOR THE WHIP)

ADEPT: I got it!!

MASTER: Curses!!

QUEEN: Hehe-now we got 'er!

ADEPT: What's this 'we' stuff?

QUEEN: Uh oh...

(END OF ANNOUNCEMENT)

********************************

Ashes of the Mind, pt 2
by the Smarm Sluts


Jed walked his horse over to the stream to water it. Since fleeing the area around Four Corners, every lawman in three states had been hounding him. His two last surviving members of his gang were geting tired. Soon they would be forced to an extended rest. Fortunately, thanks to a special informant, Jed now had the means to provide that rest. And a safe place to stay. If only they could get there without getting cought first.

"How much further is it going to be?" Lem Jenkins, looked up as his horse drank.

"Just over the next rise." Jed grinned, looks like they were going to make it.

"The only thing that way is that looney house. Not even the devil goes near there!" The other man, Rick started. He had heard bad stories about those places! "And I ain't goin' anywhere near it!"

"You will go there if you want to live!" Jed snarled. "It's our refuge."

Lem didn't look happy, but being there was better than swinging at the end of a rope. "Who runs it? And how do we know it's safe?"

"Man in Deadeye, known him along time, said this guy will hide anyone out as long as the money is good. Says all we got to do is get there and we're home free. We even get a safe way to Mexico out of it." Jed grinned, he would lie low in Mexico, change his appearance a little, then head back and kill the seven lawmen from Foour Corners, especially Ezra Standish.

"I still don't want to go there." Rick looked around. "I think I'll take my chances on my own."

"No one runs out on me." Jed hissed, walking his horse over to the man's.

"Hey now!" Rick looked around , looking for an escape. "I been loyal to you! I ain't gonna say anything. I just can't GO to a place like that! I can't!"

Jed suddenly grinned. "Alright, as long as you don't talk."

"I promise! I'll meet you down in Mexico!" Rick looked relieved, and turned his horse to follow the trail away fromt eh others. He almost missed the click of the gun cocking, and at the last second wheeled his horse sharply to the left.

Jed shot at the retreating man, cursing as he spun suddenly out of the way, the bullet grazing his ribs. The fleeing man took off towards the rivers treacherous rocks. Jed got off three more shots at the man and saw him slump in the saddle. Got him.

"Shouldn't we go after him?" Lem asked, eye upraised. Figiting with his reins, wondering if he was next.

"Nah, " Jed huffed, turning back to the direction he was headed in. "Shot him up but good, he'll be dead soon. Let's get ourselves to the safe house."

"Your the boss." Lem followed, hoping the place they were going to was safer than the one they were in.


Ashes of the Mind pt 2b

The late afternoon sun was slanting through the thin trees as Vin, Ezra and JD made their way across the mountain road back to Four Corners. Black shadows sliced across the wide path as they guided their mounts along in an easy manner, enjoying the fact that nothing had interrupted their mission and that they could take their time getting back to town.

"Sure has been quiet lately," JD sighed as they trotted along. "Your ma might be kinda bored when she visits next week, Ezra."

Next to JD, a lean young man in a worn leather coat smiled softly beneath the brim of his weathered hat, his blue eyes sparkling. "Somehow I can't picture Maude bein' bored anywhere, JD."

Ezra glanced at his traveling companion and smiled warily. he had completely recovered from his horrifying nightmare and had pretty much forgotten about it. "A correct assertion, Mr. Tanner. My mother's talents for amusing herself, and profiting at the same time, exceed even my own."

"Long as she keeps it legal," JD said seriously, spurring Hero along.

"She will, I assure you," Ezra replied, ducking a low-hanging branch. "She'll most likely spend most of her time in Ridge City anyhow, so the law there will have to worry about her instead of you."

JD's smooth face registered surprise. "Ridge City? I thought she was comin' to see you."

The gambler shifted in his saddle a bit, an uncomfortable light flickering in his pale green eyes for just an instant. "We will see each other, I'm sure, but most of her business is in that fair metropolis. I am, as it were, a sideshow to the main attraction."

JD looked at Vin as if to find a companion in his shock, but the tracker's expression was, as usual, unreadable. So JD gasped alone.

"Boy, that's sad, Ezra!"

The gambler eyed him curiously. "How do you figure, Mr. Dunne?"

"Well-" JD sputtered a little, unable to articulate himself for a moment. "Well-she's your mother. You guys should be spending her visit together. God, if my ma came to visit me, I'd never leave her side."

Vin's mouth curled in amusement. "Somehow I don't think your ma was the same as Ezra's, JD."

"For which, son, you may thank your lucky stars," Ezra added. "One of my mother is enough for this world, God knows."

JD shook his head in disbelief. "I don't understand you guys, actin' like this is OK. I swear, Ezra, it almost sounds like you and your ma don't love each other."

The gambler chuckled a little, his gold tooth winking in the setting sunlight. "I assure you our relationship is quite sound, son. We simply do not go in for-what is the vulgarity?-'slobbering all over each other' with affection."

"Well, that's too bad," JD declared firmly. "My ma wasn't afraid to give me a hug when I needed it. Not," he was quick to add, "that I did, all that often, you know. But she was there when I needed her."

"Now, JD," Vin said softly, giving a sideways glance to his young comrade, "best to just let Ezra and his ma be, long as they ain't killin' each other."

The young sheriff accepted the admonishment and sighed. "Yeah, Ok, I'm sorry, Ezra. No offense, I guess..." he trailed off, unsure how to finish.

But Ezra knew what he was saying. "No offense taken, Mr. Dunne. You simply must understand that we had little use for such overt expressions of emotion as you are apparently used to. My family prided itself on its intellect-in fact, staked our existence on it, and continue to do so to this day."

Vin scanned the area, his blue eyes quickly studying every bush and tree about as he drew out his sawed-off Winchester. "Reckon them smarts can rustle us up some dinner, Ezra? We're still a ways from town an' my stomach's growlin' already."

JD's eyes lit up. "Are we goin' huntin', Vin?"

The tracker smiled as he checked his weapon. "Nothin' fancy, but if we can bag a jackrabbit or a few squirrels it'll beat waitin' til we get home to eat."

Ezra sighed as he drew his Remington. "And here I was looking forward to a nice steak at the hotel."

JD laughed. "Maybe we'll spot a cow."

"Well, if you do, be sure to check for a brand before you drop it," Vin smiled. "I'm goin' to see what's up these hills, see you boys in a bit."

With that Vin spurred Sire up the gentle slop at the right of the road, leaving Ezra and JD to scout the woods.

The two men tethered their horses and dismounted, JD still shaking his head as he knotted off Hero's bridle.

Ezra saw this and smiled as he loaded his gun. "Still ruminating, Mr. Dunne?"

JD drew his Colt Lightnings and shot the gambler an annoyed glance. "I still can't get over you an' your ma, if that's what you mean."

"You must tell me," Ezra replied as they walked into the woods, "what it is about my family situation which fascinates you so much."

"Well, geez, Ezra," said after a moment's pause, "a mother and son shouldn't be all cold to each other. It ain't natural."

Ezra grunted. "And turning each other's stomach with sentimental blather is?"

"It ain't blather to tell a man's mother he loves her once in a while!" JD insisted as he looked around. "I don't see nothin'."

"Perhaps we should advance further."

"OK."

They walked further into the sparse forest.

"Mr. Dunne," Ezra said at length, keeping a lookout for any signs of movement, "I sense that we have a slight difference of opinion concerning the importance of sentimental expressions."

"I'll say," was the slightly disgusted response. "Wait-no, that's a bush. Sorry."

"Then I will enlighten you to my philosophy, which you may find useful in some future situation," Ezra said as they crept along. "I put it to you, sir, that reason and intelligence are far more helpful to a man's well-being than any reliance on emotional considerations. One can remove oneself from any given situation merely by thinking it through, rather than basing one's reactions solely on feelings."

JD digested this. "You mean smarts are more important than anything else?"

"Precisely. One cannot let the mind be clouded by passion. Calm deliberation-"

He was interrupted by a rustling in the bushes some twenty feet away; a large jackrabbit bounded from its leafy branches and dashed away. JD quickly raised his Colt and fired; the bullet splintered a tree behind the creature, which continued to leap away out of range.

"Aw, dammit!" JD muttered in frustration. But Ezra clapped him on the shoulder.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Mr. Dunne. Look on this as a lesson."

"Yeah," JD snorted, looking at his gun in anger. "I gotta get this thing cleaned."

His companion shrugged as they resumed walking. "Perhaps, but try to see the larger scope. You reacted quickly, but failed to temper your movement with deliberation. Your actions are like the animals', based purely on the passion of the moment. A few instants' worth of thought would have allowed you to steady yourself and gather your wits enough to drop your prey."

His younger friend thought about this, then laughed. "Dang, Ezra, it's just a rabbit!"

"True," the other man conceded, "but you will find that this lesson applies to a wide variety of situations."

They walked in silence for a short while, until another rabbit burst out of the brush and loped into the distance. JD watched as Ezra drew a bead on it, waited a few moments to steady his aim, then pulled the trigger. The explosion echoed through the trees and rolled away as the jackrabbit stumbled, rolled over, and lay still.

Ezra smiled as he holstered his gun. "As you can see, Mr. Dunne, intellect will outdraw emotion every time."

JD looked at him, then sighed. "Yeah, OK, I get the point. But I hope you won't think I'm too emotional when I say I sure hope it's Vin that skins that thing."

Ashes of the Mind pt 2c

Lem Jenkins and Jed Maxwell cautiously approached the rise which would lead them down into Branford Asylum; they had not been spotted yet, but it was best to not take chances. Jed rose easily, smiling as he contemplated the ways he would make Ezra Standish suffer when he finally wreaked his revenge. He'd get the other damn lawmakers, too, but it was Standish he really wanted to howl. If only he didn't have to wait so long to get his hands on him...

His partner, on the other hand, grew increasingly nervous as they approached the asylum, fiddling with his reins and eying the horizon as if it contained a hideous monster.

Finally Jed sighed with exasperation. "Dammit, Lem, stop that fidgeting! They'll hear your teeth chattering all the way in Dallas."

"Well, I can't help it, Jed!" Lem replied in an edgy voice. "Ain't never liked loony houses, we had to put my ma in one an' it scared the tar out'n me. Folks in there'll cut your throat for no reason."

"That ain't so different from out here, is it?" Jed observed, scowling as he spurred his horse along. "Now I ain't in no mood to put up with your yella ways, Lem. We've fought the meanest scum this side of the Mississip, I think we can handle a few crazies."

"It's a whole houseful of 'em, Jed!" Lem reminded him.

"Then bring 'em on!" Jed barked, eying Lem furiously. "I'll face whatever comes if it means we can get back at Standish and the rest of them lawmen. Course-" he hefted his gun and looked at Lem in a meaningful way. "You can follow Rick, if you want."

Lem gulped, remembering Jed shooting the other man as he'd fled earlier.

Jed grunted and holstered his weapon. "Didn't think so. Now we're almost there-let me handle this an' keep your damn fool mouth shut."

Lem nodded, the apprehension growing in his eyes.

They topped the rise, and below them lay a sprawling complex of low, dark buildings surrounded by a high stone wall. The only entrance was a massive iron gate, above which were wrought the words BRANFORD ASYLUM FOR THE INSANE. The sun was almost setting as well, adding an eerie air to the place; it seemed so quiet, yet so full of impending doom.

Lem gulped.

Two burly, menacing guards with rifles stood guard at the gate; as they approached one of them stepped forward, finger on the trigger.

"What do you want?" he snarled.

"I got some, uh, business with Mr. Branford," Jed said casually. "I'm looking for my brother, Matthew Lee."

To Lem's surprise, the guard instantly unlocked the gate and let them in.
"What was all that about?" he asked, astonished. Jed chuckled.

"I'll be damned, it worked. Word has it that that's what you say here if you're lookin' for refuge-then they know that's what you're here for."

"Oh, like a password," Lem nodded. "But-what if someone really was lookin' for their brother named Matthew Lee here?"

Jed shrugged. "Then I guess Branford'd deal with it-for a price."

They rode up to the main building, a large dark structure with a sweeping staircase leading up to the massive front door. two more guards stood there; they had seen the exchange at the gate, and one of them stepped forward.

"I'm lookin' for Matthew Lee," Jed said as he and Lem dismounted.

"This way," the guard replied in a surly tone. The men tied off their horses and mounted the stairs, Lem glancing around nervously. the grounds were barren and bleak; there were few trees and a large rocky depression, probably a river once, ran behind the building. It seemed to him he could hear faint cries coming from within the thick stone walls, but he quickly ignored it and followed Jed up the stairs.

They walked through a series of dimly lit, sparsely furnished corridors; everything was dark and still. The corridors were lined with heavy iron doors, equipped with small grated windows. Jed ignored these; Lem eyed them with dread. The cries seemed louder.

Finally they reached a large wooden door at the eastern end of the corridor. the guard knocked and entered, followed by the two visitors, who found themselves in a small but tastefully appointed office. At the large oak desk sat a man busily going over paperwork.

"Excuse me, sir?"

The man looked up. He was no older than forty, with swarthy skin and thick black hair cut in a short style. His wide, handsome face was smooth, and his piercing black eyes were bright and keen. At this point they were also slightly irritated.

"Yes, what?" he demanded shortly.

"These men," the guard said, jerking a thumb at Jed and Lem, "are lookin' for Matthew Lee."

The man's expression lit up, and he nodded.

"I'll take care of it, Williams."

The guard nodded and stepped away, but remained in the room.

The man behind the desk sighed and stood up, revealing his short, powerfully built frame, clad in somber but well-tailored clothes.

"Well, now," he said, coming around the desk and sizing up his two visitors, "I see our current brand of outlaw is no better than the last." His voice was smooth and thick with a Virginian accent.

"Name's Jed Maxwell, an' this is Lem Jenkins. You Branford?" Jed asked, frowning.

The other man let an oily smile slide over his lips. "Silas Branford, owner and overseer of the Branford Asylum for the insane, and-" he eyed them both-"the fugitive."

"Then you do have a place where men on the run can hide out?" Jed prodded.

Branford hesitated, his sharp black eyes darting between them. "Any man whom I may help escape the clutches of the despicable Yankee government is welcome here. Of course, it all depends on what you're running from and how much you have to offer for your room and board. I run my...establishment freely, and can't afford to have the army come here to look for you."

"Hell, ain't no army gonna look for us," Jed laughed. "We're just on the lam. As for cash-" he reached into his pocket and dug out the money from their last bank haul, holding it up. "$200 enough?"

Branford looked disappointed. "$300 is the usual minimum for one man."

"Three hundred!" Maxwell exploded. "You damn reb, that's robbery!"

The owner's eyes flashed. "You are free to ride out of here. Of course, I am also free to alert the authorities to your whereabouts." he calmly walked back to his desk and sat down. "It's up to you."

Jed slammed his hands down on the desk, leaning forward so that his face was inches from Branford's.

"I oughta blow a hole in that smug face of yours," he snarled.

Branford eyed him casually. "You are welcome to try, but I should warn you I have trained my staff to be very fast on their triggers."

Jed eyed the guard angrily; the guard smiled and fingered his trigger.

He sighed and glared at Branford, who had gone back to his paperwork.

"$400," Jed said finally.

Branford looked up with a steady gaze. "$600."

"$450."

"$500."

"$475."

Branford sighed. "For two of you, I must insist on $500. However-" he tapped his lips for a moment with the pen he was holding, studying Jed closely. "I will agree to $450 conditionally."

Jed glowered at him. "What condition?"

Branford put down the pen and stood up. "I always have need of more...correctional help in my facility. Would either of you be willing to help me control my inmates in exchange for a lower rate?"

"Hell, no, not me!" Lem cried. "I'm already too close to them lunatics."

Jed chuckled, eying his partner contemptuously. "Lem may be yella, Branford, but I'm not. You just need someone to whack 'em back in line when they act up?"

"In a way," Branford smiled. "We have a wing for the more dangerous inmates-violent cases who need to be watched very closely. Many of my guards don't like working there, but a man of your girth should have no trouble, assuming you have no squeamish tendencies."

Jed laughed in an ugly way. "None at all. Then I take it I can do whatever I want with 'em?"

"Just keep them in line, that's all I ask," Branford said, sitting back down. "None of their families come around, and any suspicious wounds can be explained by their deranged state."

Jed smiled, then suddenly frowned. "You're bein' awful welcomin' to us, Branford," he said, his voice suddenly edgy. "This ain't some kind of trap for us, is it?"

Branford snorted. "Certainly not."

"Then how come you're so trustin' of us? How do you know I ain't spyin' on you?"

The other man reached into one of his desk drawers. "For one thing, Mr. Maxwell, I know a true criminal when I see one. And for another, it so happens that your story has already reached my ears."

He tossed Jed a folded-up newspaper. Across one column, circled in red ink, was a small announcement of the escape of the dangerous criminal Jed Maxwell, along with two associates; all people were warned to be on the lookout for them. The announcement was sent from Four Corners by Chris Larabee.

"Damn, that sonofabitch fingered us!" Jed cried, enraged.

"Yes, I imagine that's in every newspaper from here to Phoenix," Branford said calmly. "Larabee must know someone in the newspaper business. I always keep a record of possible guests, so that when they come in I know who they are. Your record is most impressive, it says you burned one of your men alive and tried to kill an old woman and a wounded man."

Jed growled. "Yeah, an' one day I'll do worse to Larabee an' them bastards once I get my hands on 'em ."

Branford chuckled smoothly. "Well, until then, I believe you'll fit right in here. Now," he extended one graceful, manicured hand. "The $450?"

Jed counted out the cash and handed it over.

"Good," Brandford said as he checked the amount. "Now, we'll show you to the hideout. You'll get food and water regularly-up to a period of three weeks. We aren't too crowded at the moment, so you should have plenty of room. You should be able to leave by then, if not, I'll need more money. And Mr. Maxwell, we'll be starting you tomorrow in the violents' wing."

"Hell, sounds good to me," Jed said.

"Good." Branford picked up his pen and gave another easy, oily smile. "I am sure our association will be mutually beneficial, sir."

"Oh, so am I, Branford," Jed said with a full smile, his eyes glinting. "So am I."