Larry Belham sat at the bar of the<span style="font-weight: bold">Dead Horse Saloon</span>, the Dead Horse was the lower end of saloons in this town, and there were only just the two. The<span style="font-weight: bold">Green Lady</span>was the other, but they enforced a strict dress code policy of having shoes and not smelling like cow shit. The Dead Horse had no such policies and so it was often full of the lowest common denomination of society. Fine for the common man mind you, and so it was here that Larry Belham had found himself.<br/><br/>He sipped off of the dirty glass, imbibing what folks round here called, Mule piss, it consisted of the left over remnants from patron's glasses at the end of the night, collected in a barrel. Atleast Shirley, the bar's owner and barkeep, would occasionally pour a pint of moonshine into the mix, to keep the sickness from growing in the putrid mix.<br/><br/>"You sure are nursing that drink Larry...." Shirley noted, seeing that the man had been sitting there for most the afternoon and was still only half way through his drink.<br/><br/>"I can only ford da one!" Larry snarled back, his face was cracked and dried out from days of work in the fields, something a man his age shouldn't be doing anymore, especially a man with three strong sons.<br/><br/>"Why the hell is that? You usually make a fair living, bad year? Did the old Oak Ridge acreage finally shit out on ya?" Shirley asked innocently, having seen plenty of farms go under in his time here in Bethlehem Falls.<br/><br/>"Nah....fine year....good crop....Just ain't got the labor to bring it in...most of it's gonna rot in the ground!" He said, a tear welling up in his eye. " Mary Beth is out in the fields now...she's still trying to bring it in, bless er heart!"<br/><br/>" If it twernt for them Damned Cowboys, I'd ave my boys out werkin!...Be buyin erbody a drink o da piss....Now not only can't I bring ma crop in, But I got Doctor bills to contend with....It just ain't RIGHT!" Larry started to rant, building toward a crescendo of wallowing in despair.<br/><br/>Shirley's eyes got big as half-dollars and he silently shook his head 'no' trying to get Larry to shut up, but it was too late as the three young cowboys at the back of the bar reached into their shirts and pulled out the red bandannas for display.<br/><br/>"Shoot, Lar....You don't know what yer talkin bout.....Without Mr. Amsterdam this town would just be another joshua tree grove full of fucking savage Injuns...Just shut yer drunk mouth and finish yer piss already!" Shirley said, trying to quell the situation before it got worse, but it was too late, the three young outlaws stood up and started to mosey across the room toward Larry's back.<br/><br/>"I ain't drunk...already told ya this is all I've had to drink prit-near all day!" Larry said, oblivious to the young Damned men approaching from behind.<br/><br/>They were young, probably all still in their teens, but they carried shooters and red kerchiefs and that was enough. The lead one spun Larry around on his stool and leaned in close to the old man's face.<br/><br/>"Say old timer.....You the pappy to those three dumb fucks we's had a scrape up with last week?" He crooned as his two young cronies laughed on behind him.<br/><br/>"Yeah....I am....them there was my boys...oldest one's only fifteen...and he wasn't raised like you damned hooligans....they's good boys, yall shunt done that!" Larry said, Shirley could see the contempt in the older man's eyes at having to put up with the hooligan's shenanigans.<br/><br/>"Well I can see where they got there mouths from.....Say...You got a Young wife, don'cha Mr. Belham? She popped that first one out when she wasn't even 14, right? Makes her only but 28 years old er so...Not very hairy either....ain't she I think my Older brother grew up with her?" The 19 year old asked the older man.<br/><br/>"Yeah? what's it to ya....'hairy' what's that supposed to mean?" Larry snarled, and he began to stand up, but the three Damned boys rushed him and set to beating the shit out of poor old Larry. Shirley simply stood back, pulling the dirty glass Larry had left on the bar away so it didn't get broken. The big one finished by kicking Larry's front teeth down his throat with several cracks from his pointed cowboy boot.<br/><br/>"Alright boys....Let's take up ride up to Oak Ridge and have a look see if we can't persuade Miss Belham to model for Mr. Amsterdam....She's gonna need the extra income, cause it looks like Mr. Belham ain't gonna be much use now either!" The hooligan shouted and his two cohorts joined in.<br/><br/>Shirley looked over the edge of the bar and saw that Larry wasn't going to be finishing that drink after all, he walked over to barrel containing the 'Mule piss' and poured the rest of Larry's drink back into the mix.