Still, there was a chance that Lucky might end up back in the bar. And not after he makes a heroic return, having vanquished whatever Great Evil is plaguing this land either. There was a good chance that Lucky might've stumbled back into the bar whilst wandering blindly through the dust storm.
Not to say that there was a Great Evil plaguing this land. Lucky had no idea if there was or wasn't, but he was leaning towards was. It just seemed to always happen that Lucky found himself in the position of being the one to stand in the face of Great Evil. And of him being lucky enough to make it out of said position alive. Lucky couldn't count how much evil he had vanquished. Partly because he had a very spotty memory. And partly because as soon as he began thinking of such things, his mind invariably started debating with itself about the nature of evil; of how maybe Lucky himself was the evil one and all the people he killed were not so bad really, once you got to know them. And partly because he really had vanquished a lot of evil.
Still, Lucky had no idea what to do with himself. His only option, as far as he could reckon, was to walk. It didn't matter what direction, since the wind would knock him off any course he might vainly choose. Mindlessly walking had served him well. Sure, it usually brought him into the path of the aforementioned Evil, but it also brought him back out again relatively unscathed.
So Lucky started walking. One foot in front of the other. Fairly big strides. He wasn't the type to inch forward. The wind blew him this way and that. It tugged at his clothes, his guns, his/Dave's/Steve's hat. Lucky tried to pay it no mind. Which was not a problem as his mind was dwelling on other things. On Jane's lap, on Steve being a Dave and/or vice versa, on half memories and fragments of other lives and other times. His mind was so far away that he didn't notice how much his shin hurt until his nose was bleeding.
Lucky's shin had run right into the boardwalk, and Lucky's momentum pitched him forward, nose first onto the walk. Lucky assumed it was a boardwalk, what with him being the old west and with it feeling like a bunch of boards beneath his sore face. He took a few moments to assess the situation and then took the course of action he thought most appropriate.
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" He screamed as he rolled onto his back.
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" He screamed as he sat up and began rubbing his shin, feeling it already beginning to swell.
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" He screamed as he gingerly touched his nose, checking to see if it was broken.
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" He screamed as he found that it was not.
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" He screamed, not caring if Jane heard. No, to be truthful he did care a little but not near enough to stop screaming fuck.
In fact he would have kept screaming that world for a good long while if not for the wet pinkness that attacked his face.
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