This post details a dream sequence from Elvis/Johnny's point of view
The morning winds were soft through Preston. The small town, still quiet in the early morning hours. Dust kicked up from the breeze cling to houses and livestock alike. In the middle of town square a man exits the local saloon "tierra de gracia" His salt and pepper hair silhouetted by the red wood of the saloon doors. He is wearing an untucked shirt with a bandana around his neck. He also has a well worn duster. Once a darker brown, has now faded and weathered into a lighter shade. Adorned on the chest of the coat is a Marshal's badgeFrom this duster he produced a cigarette tin. As he lights one and takes a drag a voice calls from behind.
"Marshal! You really gonna go through with the duel at noon?"
A middle aged man appears through the saloon doors. He stood maybe an inch or two taller than the marshal. He was wearing a black coal colored tailcoat, overtop a dark waistcoat. His black boots were complimented with black slacks. The man's clean shaven face beaded with sweat, was shaded by a dark black cattleman's hat with a thin strip of tanned leather for a hatband. His llongbhray hair neatly combed underneath.
"I know that Mad Manuel is a real son of a bitch. He's also Known as the deadliest shot around, and he's never lost a duel. Like never ever, like barley breaking a sweat. Like…"
"Hey man, I think I got the picture." Marshal Johnny cuts him off. "You seen my partner?"
"You mean that quiet guy? What was his name? Frankie the Kid?"
"Yup, that's him alright. He's half the reason I'm not worried. Because I know if things go south he's got my back." Johnny takes another long drag on his cigarette.
"Would you look at that almost half past 11. Guess I better go collect myself." He drops the remains of the cigarette to the porch and snuffs it out with his boot.
"Thanks for the chat, Mayor Cash." Johnny tips his hat to the gentleman and heads across the way to a small building labeled Marshal.
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The small office is filled with scattered bits and bobs. Pages from news prints, a photograph of a younger Johnny, and a beat up guitar. Johnny heads straight for his desk. Opening a drawer he grabs ammo and fully reloads the revolver he had on his hip. Once done loading the last bullet the door opens behind him. Johnny turns to see none other than Frankie the kid standing in the entryway.
"Frankie, if you're here to talk me out of it. You're too late. I got 15 minutes til noon and I ain't running like a coward."
"Just remember you don't have to be faster. Just more accurate." Frankie signs back.
"Yeah, you're right. Well wish me luck my friend. Hopefully this isn't goodbye." Johnny exits the marshal's office.
As Johnny walks into the middle of the street he notices the emptiness of the area. After scanning around he sees Mad Manuel and his gang approaching.
"Manuel! We had a deal! A fair duel, you and me! At noon!" Johnny puts on his best grimace.
"So I did Marshal, so I did." He hops off his horse and walks to a spot opposite Johnny.
"Same rules as always. After the clock strikes the last bell for noon."
"Yeah, okay." Johnny's hand now hovering above his revolver.
The men stand in stalemate, waiting for what feels like an eternity. Until finally…
BONG
BONG
BONG
The clock tower begins to toll the bells for noon.
BONG
BONG
BONG
The men's faces tense as the world goes seemingly quiet except for the clock bells.
BONG
BONG
BONG
Beads of sweat start forming, both men know it's a matter of seconds before one of them falls dead.
BONG
Both men unlatch their holster guards.
BONG
They place a hand on their guns.
BONG
At last they both draw and open fire.
Johnny rolls an eleven on his initiative roll
Manuel rolls a 3 on his initiative roll
Johnny rolls a 12 on a shooting rolling roll
Both men draw their pistols, Johnny is just bit faster. He fires his gun and as the smoke clears Manuel is staggered back now holding his chest and bleeding.
"N-nice shot M-Marshal." Manuel is clearly struggling to speak.
"You may h-have won the duel b-but you just started a war. Hehehe…HAHAHAHAHHA…" Manuel's words stung even though his choked laugh.
"Yeah, Maybe." Johnny holsters his firearm and pulls out a cigarette. Lighting it he takes a drag.
"Not from your guys though." He takes another long drag and points at Manuel's men now fleeing the town.
As this happens the winds kick up, shaking Johnny. Almost supernaturally, that's when he opens his eyes to see Frankie shiking home and frantically signing.
"Hey, what is it man? What's up?" Frankie drags Johnny over to the window and points.
Looking out the window of the motel they were in Johnny saw a familiar face…his face.