There Will Be Blood, Part I

The scene opens on a rickety looking town in the middle of the New Mexico desert. It appears to be the middle of the afternoon. The buildings that line the street are all made of wood, and most look as if they are in need of serious structural repair, or at the very least a lick of fresh paint. Many of the buildings have signs hung above the doors, indicating their purpose. There is a saloon, a livery stable, a bank and a Sheriff's Office, amongst others. The town is deathly quiet; unusually so given the time of day, and only one man can be seen out in the street. That man is Morgan Freeman.

Morgan Freeman: A lot has happened since we last paid a visit to the sleepy backwater burgh of No Limit, slightly less than one week short of a year ago.

Morgan Freeman begins to walk down the street, looking directly at what is either an invisible or imaginary camera as he speaks.

Morgan Freeman: Nick Ridicule and Brandon Macdonald's war for control over the town was bloody and resulted in a lot of casualties. Eventually, after a lot of bloody fighting, Nick retained control of the town. But the victory, and the power he once again held in his hands went straight to his head and he descended quickly in to madness. It wasn't long before Nick vanished completely from the public eye, retreating to the basement of the Town Hall, not to be heard from for a long, long while.

Eventually, the concerned citizens of No Limit met together and decided to enquire after Mr Ridicule's well being, out of sheer concern for the lawlessness that resulted from the lack of leadership in the town, especially after the banishment of Sheriff Matthews. The citizens, led my Ridicule's former ally, Corey Casey, approached the town hall and called for Nick to emerge, but instead, the crazed man simply took pot-shots at them from a first floor window.

Morgan Freeman stopped in his tracks as a man stumbled out of the saloon bar's swinging doors, carrying a half empty bottle of whiskey. Freeman looked very confused as the man staggered towards him singing a song about driving cattle. It appeared that the man hadn't noticed Freeman yet, and was happy in his own little drunken world. Morgan Freeman cleared his throat in a very deliberate manner, but the man still didn't notice. He cleared his throat again, this time a lot louder, and the man finally stopped his song and came to a halt, turning slowly around to face Freeman.

As soon as he saw him his cheerful drunk expression was replaced by one of dismay.

Drunk: YOU?!

Morgan Freeman: Do I...know you?

Drunk: What are YOU doing here again?

Morgan Freeman: I'm sorry, have we met?

Drunk: Don't you remember me? One year ago, last time Ruben got fucked up on an airplane and fell asleep, he had a dream about this goddamn town. I suddenly popped in to existence 20 minutes ago in that bar, and everyone else was frozen solid. I thought 'what the hell, free booze' and started drinking. Thought I'd gotten away with it and your ass hadn't shown up again. Guess I was wrong!

Morgan Freeman: Ah yes, you were the guy that popped out of existence rather than live in a Western setting that contained Morgan Freeman.

Drunk: Yeah, that was me. I don't deal well with anachronisms. They bug the shit out of me.

Morgan Freeman: Apparently. If you're going to do the same thing this time I'd appreciate it if you'd do it quickly. I have a story to get under way here.

Drunk: Oh, I see. Trying to get rid of me are you? Honestly. You think that just because you're Morgan fuckin' Freeman you can walk around this town like you own it.

Morgan Freeman: Well, I am God...

Drunk: Shut up! Well if you think you're going to get rid of me that easy then you've got another thing coming buddy. This time I'm sticking around. How do you like THEM apples?

Morgan Freeman: Do what you like. Now if you'll excuse me I have to get back to narrating this thing.

Drunk: Whatever.

Morgan Freeman: Good.

Drunk: Fine.

Morgan Freeman rolled his eyes and turned back to the imaginary camera.

Morgan Freeman: AS I WAS SAYING... In his delirious state Nick Ridicule didn't take too kindly to the concerns of the townsfolk. After running out of ammo with which to shoot at them, Nick began to hurl insults at the group, shouts of 'INGRATES!' interspersed with rants about his greatness, and how they were all doomed to fail without him. Before long he had decreed that the town be shut down and dismantled, and, seeing as how the town's legal code was retarded, no-one could oppose him. This is where we pick up our story...


Nick Ridicule: So go on, fuck off out of my town you bunch of ingrates! I'll rule when I goddamn please and right now I don't feel like ever ruling again! So you can all get out of my damn town, because No Limit is closed for business! For GOOD! After all the work that I put in too...

Corey Casey: Cool story, bro.

Nick Ridicule: INGRATE!! Go on! Fuck off already!


Morgan Freeman: With that last tirade, Nick closed the shutters over the window he was leaning out of, and that was the last that the town of NLWF heard of Nick F'n Ridicule.

Drunk: It was the last it heard of anyone, genius, the town didn't exist any more.

Morgan Freeman: Quite. The townsfolk were left just milling around, not sure what to do, when finally a man wrapped in a poncho, his face obscured by a bandana and a cowboy hat strode forward from the crowd and clambered up on to a wooden crate. The man threw off his poncho and removed his hat to reveal the familiar figure of former Sheriff of No Limit, Chuck Matthews...


Chuck smirked as he stood on the makeshift podium and surveyed the crowd in front of him, many of whom were shocked to see that he had returned.

Sheriff Chuck Matthews: Well, well, well. Honestly, guys! I come back to check upon how my old town of No Limit is getting and on and y'all have gone and gotten yourselves booted out. Now wasn't that stupid?

Chuck laughed at his own joke, but unsurprisingly no-one else in the crowd did. Corey Casey pushed his way forward, shoving several people out of the way in the process.

Corey Casey: What the fuck are you doing back here, Matthews? We told you to leave and never come back. You were replaced.

Sheriff Chuck Matthews: And look where that got you, friend. Now you can join me in exile. Looks like none of you're gonna be living here any longer. So what are you all plannin' to do next?

Corey Casey: Well...we hadn't got that far yet. But we'll think of something. You can bet your ass we'll think of somethin', Matthews.

Sheriff Chuck Matthews: What would you say if I told you I'd already thought of something?

Corey Casey: Don't go getting started with that one step ahead bullshit Chuck. And I swear to god if you say that you're the smartest man this side of the Mississippi I will take out the Purifier and shoot you dead where you stand.

Chuck smirked again as Corey stroked his ivory handled pistol, the Purifier, in it's holster on his belt.

Corey Casey: We don't need your goddamn help, Chuck. You got that?

Chuck hopped down from the box and started to walk amongst the crowd.

Sheriff Chuck Matthews: Are you SURE about that Corey? Because it sure looks like you need my help. As I recall life in the town of No Limit was just peachy under Sheriff Chuck. It was only when you and Nick and Brandon rode in to town and fucked it up for everyone that the shit started to hit the fan.

Corey made as if to go for Chuck, but two of the nearby townsfolk managed to hold him back. Chuck raised his hand in a conciliatory manner.

Sheriff Chuck Matthews: Now, Corey, I'm not here to assign blame. I'm just statin' the facts as I see 'em, y'know? Just hear me out. I've been thinkin' a lot lately and it seems to me the reason that we, and yes that includes myself, keep fucking things up here in No Limit is simple. This ain't a one man job. Every time one guy takes charge of this shop he gets fucked over, or like we just saw goes batshit crazy with power and kicks everyone out of town.

There's no goddamn ACCOUNTABILITY around here and that's the problem. Every time the head of the town decides he wants to do something he can just do it, because no-one has the power to stop him. What we need to sort ourselves out isn't one man at the top making all the decisions. We need other people to tell him that what he's doing is pure, grade a bull shit. The only way we're going to get that is if the town is run by a council.

Corey snorted derisively.

Corey Casey: Oh, and I suppose you're going to be one of the representatives of this council, and the other two will be hand picked by yours truly as well, I'll wager.

Sheriff Chuck Matthews: You know what, Corey, you're absolutely right. I will be one of the men on the council, and as it happens I've already hand picked my two colleagues.

Corey laughed.

Corey Casey: Why, Sheriff Matthews, you've become predictable in your old age. Let me guess, you've got a couple of lackeys riding in as we speak ready to help you take the reigns. Hell I bet one of them is that Mexican gringo you had hanging around when we kicked your ass out of this dump.

Corey pulled a watch out of waistcoat pocket and inspected it.

Corey Casey: I bet they're due to arrive any minute.

Sheriff Chuck Matthews: Actually, Corey, you're wrong. They're already here.

Corey Casey: And where, prey tell Mr Matthews, are they?

Sheriff Chuck Matthews: Well, I'm lookin' at the ugly mug of one of them right now. As for the second, I know he's listening. BRANDON MACDONALD. I KNOW YOU'RE HERE SO YOU MIGHT AS WELL SHOW YOURSELF!

Corey looked on in stunned silence, mimicking the feelings of the rest of the crowd as nothing initially happened. But, sure enough, a few seconds later a figured moved out from behind a nearby pillar, flicking away the butt of a cigarette.

Brandon Macdonald: I hate to admit it, Corey, but the asshole is right. Just look at the evidence. Every time one guy takes control on his own bad shit goes down. If there's three of us it'd be much less likely. We can keep each other in check, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you that because we all hate each others guts we're not going to shy away from calling each other out on our bullshit. I think we could be on to a good thing, here. 2/3rds majority for every decision would be a good way to do things.

Brandon cast a glance up at the window Nick Ridicule had occupied until very recently.

Brandon Macdonald: It would certainly cut out the potential for ego tripping assholery.

Corey spat at the ground and scowled.

Corey Casey: I hate it when Chuck is right. It brings my choler up somethin' fierce. Alright, you got yourself a deal.

Chuck smiled at Corey and Brandon as the crowd watched on in amazement.

Chuck Matthews: Excellent. First thing it looks like we're going to need is a new town, away from all the bullshit that went on here. A fresh start in a fresh place. And it just so happens that I know a little burg that's just the ticket... A sweet little town called Insurgency.


The scene returned to Morgan Freeman in the empty streets of No Limit. The drunk man was lying face down on the floor, snoring gently, the previously half empty bottle now completely drained and discarded next to him.

Morgan Freeman: And so, the town of Insurgency was born. Less than a month later and everything was set up, at least as good as they'd all had it in No Limit, and in many cases even better. The system of government that they were pioneering was working like a charm. Every time an ego flared up, the other two were there to bring it right back down to earth again.

Life was perfect, idyllic almost, until one fateful day when a group of men rolled in to town, with ideas and designs to take over operations...