The Hotel Bell Boy, not wanting to miss out, ran into the mêlée too. His actions were not entirely altruistic: he picked the prettiest girl he could see to try and carry out, and the most obvious one of those was the golden haired, white frocked Miss Anaesthesia Orr, standing at the front of the large room, brandishing a gavel. Being a couple of inches shorter than she, it was with some effort that he rushed her from behind and grasping his hands around to any parts he could get a grip on, lifted her from the ground with a grunt.
On feeling this midget strongman lift her so, she gave a rather breathless and excited “Oh!” and kicked her little white boots in the air, whist keeping a tight grip on her gavel.
Both of them looked a little disappointed when Mr Wentworth’s gunplay brough the whole fracas to an end, and he lowered her back to the carpet. Not sure what to say in such a circumstance, the bell boy went with his usual “Will that be all, Miss?” and she, on a reflex, managed to find a copper or two which she placed in his hand with pink cheeked and slightly panting “Something for your trouble, boy.”
She then moved to Miss Steelgrave’s side.
“Oh, the nerve of that beastly boy, putting his sticky hands all over me!” she puffed indignantly, yet somehow looking as pleased as punch about the whole affair. She gazed benignly, perhaps a little sadly, at Leah.
“I am sorry that this did not go as planned, I am afraid that my attempts to help only made things worse.” She said, fishing for compliments.
Then something caught her eye and she nodded to Leah: the mysterious woman on the front row was scribbling furiously in a notebook. Outraged, Anaesthesia stomped right up to Sarah for the second time today.
“Madame, I hope you will permit me to ask a question, for I have ever dealt with you with the utmost candor! … Are you ... spying upon us?!” she asked, in no uncertain terms.
"Oh, well, see here, Mr. Browne Bear," Addy was actually on the verge of chuckling, understanding, she thought, what he was asking, but hearing the double entendre.
“Oh, ‘Brown Bear’ ha ha! Very good, Miss Chappel, very good!” the man chortled, appreciating her quick, rapier-like wit. Clever as well as radiantly beautiful, he thought.
"I made th' last man that wanted ta inspect my undercarriage marry me...an' that didn't last but fer th' night, 'til th' likker wore off."
Falmer Browne suddenly stood up, the scraping of his chair drawing a few gazes, and gave a slight bow. “To unfortunate man who allowed you to slip through his fingers, I offer my sincere condolences; speaking on behalf of the bachelors of the world, I offer him my thanks.”
He suddenly looked sheepish, got a grip of himself and sat back down This was one of the reasons he lived as a virtual recluse; he couldn’t afford to get distracted from his important work. And women, especially extremely attractive ones like Miss Adelaide Chappel, were a distraction sans pair.
Throwing back the rest of the whisky, she set the glass on the table and looked the man straight in the eye, her expression serious. "So, Mr. Browne, what are ya prepared ta offer me fer a gander at my undercarriage? Make it good..."
“Ah, that is a mere preliminary, my good lady, to see how well your springs are loaded. You see, I have some very delicate items which I need to be transported from Helena to Kalispell. Now, I am prepared to pay double the usual amount for such a service, IF, you can guarantee that the items can be delivered unharmed.”
He sat back and took her in, resisting the urge to fall on his knees and ask the beautiful creature to marry him there and then. To be fair to the other ladies of Kalispell, he felt the same way about most of them, too, when he passed them on the street - or sat disguised amongst them disguised as a big old grizzly bear..
“What, Miss Chappel, do you think of my proposal… er… offer?”
Retired Judge Ben Robertson, looked over at the clock on the wall of his dining room. Whoever it was, they were disturbing his breakfast. Getting up, he went over to the front door and opened. A look of surprise came on his face when he saw who it was.
"Cole Latham," Ben exclaimed, "What have I done to deserve the pleasure of an early morning visit from you?"
"Wentworth! Do something about these women before your place is wrecked!"
Contrary to what Doc Boone was thinking, Matt was already doing something about the melee that had broken out in his hotel. He had sent Simpson to get O'Malley the cook to help out and both men were now in the middle of the room trying to break up the crowd. O'Malley had already carted a couple of women out and was now picking up another one. Poor Walter was doing his best to stop two elderly matrons by shouting at them and reminding them that were ladies.
As for his part, he was just about to go back in and thinking of what he could do to stop the fighting as soon as possible. He looked over to where Sarah was standing, only to see her scribbling something down in the notebook she always carried with her. Shaking his head, he smiled as this incidence would no doubt make it into a lot of newspapers and ladies journals.
Seeing that the ladies weren't going to stop any time soon, Matt decided it was time to end this. Going over to the reception desk, he pulled out a pistol. Firing once or twice over the ladies heads might gain their attention more quickly than anything else they were trying. There would be probably a hole or two to mend but that would be a small amount compared to the damage that would be done if this kept going.
After manoeuvering his way to the stage, he fired once, which caught the attention of some of the ladies. A second shot ensured that he had all of their attention. "Ladies, I declare this meeting to be over. Now if you will kindly...and orderly make your way out, it will greatly be appreciated."
Emeline was startled as Clara swept into the kitchen and made her unusual request, and because it was so unusual, she really didn't mind helping. But first, she started to laugh, the girl was so passionate.
"Yes, of course, I don't mind." While she would have done it anyway, Emeline could sense that there was an issue, and Clara didn't make such requests often...ever...
"Just tell me...who is it? How has he insulted you?"
Sagas of the WIld West is a roleplaying game set in a fictionalized version of the town of Kalispell in Montana territory. Our stories begin in 1875 and are set against the backdrop of actual historical events.Sagas was inspired by the classic television and movie westerns. Our focus is on writing, storytelling and character development.
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