Bailiff v. Bandit

Well of all the people I'd never expect to see, says the Bailiff, gun drawn.

The Bandit holds his hands up. Now hold on there, Bailiff, says the Bandit. Just hold on. I'm unarmed.

When did you bust out of prison? Last week?

I came here for a fair duel, Bailiff. I ain't gonna stand here and be talked to like a common criminal. We're two men alike here. You know that. It's the Unspoken Rules of the Duel.

The Bailiff frowns. He lowers his gun.

I think I'd like to chose my weapon now if you don't mind, Bailiff.

The Bailiff spits. Suit yourself, he says. It's over by the table.

The Bandit, a brown-eyed man of unremarkable appearance, of average build walks to the table. He takes up a pistol. He surveys the setting. Looks like hell around here, says the Bandit. How many dead you kill over by the fence there, Bailiff?

Don't mind about who I've killed or who I haven't. Done well for myself so far.

Surprised you know how to shoot at all. Look at those shaking hands. The Bandit smiles, leans back against the oak. Just look, he says. Middle-aged, fat, a drunk. You got kids?

The Bailiff spits. Yeah I got kids. What's it to you?

I feel bad for your kids.

The Bailiff frowns. You got kids, Bandit?

Yeah I got kids, thanks, the Bandit says. He scowls. Wanna see pictures?

The Bailiff squints. I'd love to, he says.

They show each other wallet-sized pictures of their children.

Your daughter's grown so much since I last seen her, says the Bandit.

And yours, I'll tell ya, is a real gem of a girl.

She is, says the Bandit. I say mine girl's the sweeter of the two, he adds, eyeing the Bailiff.

Maybe, says the Bailiff through clenched teeth, they're both sweet in their own particular way. Each equalling each other in sweetness, either by sweetness in looks, sweetness in our regard for them, or sweetness in their general demeanor.

Well said, Bailiff, says the Bandit.

Any father would say the same, he says. Now I'm going to kill you.

Yes sir, I think I've had just about enough of your face.

They take their places out on the field, ten paces apart.

They raise their guns. Their guns go off.