The shotgun’s shot took out his leg, sending him scuttling and skidding through the muddy street. His attacker come striding forward to stand over him, slackjaw hanging loosely in the mouth. “Well, I guess you won’t be walkin’ tall like we hoped, Jimmy!” his attacker declared. Another Adam came forward, gun in hand, dragging the dead, useless, meat of his leg behind – carving a long, deep ravine in the mud. “I reckon you be right, Billy-boy,” the attacker’s friend declared, “and we had such high hopes for this outsider. The outsider began to madly scrape at the mud, dragging himself forward. The effort was rewarded with a heavy boot stamped on his back by Billy-boy. “Now where do you think you’re going, outsider,” Billy-boy declared rhetorically, “we got us a whole lot of friends in desperate need of repair.” A moment later, Jimmy set to work with the clever and bone saw.


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