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SEVEN BRIDES FOR ONE COYOTE, or
CATCH THE GIRLS AND MAKE THEM CRY
By C
Part I
One day, Coyote was passing through the town of Tumbleweed, when he decided to call on his old friend, Marshal Matt Basterson. Basterson's headquarters abutted on the town square. Its windows gave an excellent view of the courthouse, across the square, and the town gallows, right in the middle. While he sat in Basterson's waiting room, Coyote looked out toward the gallows, but was disappointed to see that nothing was happening today. "Ho hum," he said, and started rooting through the magazines.
Suddenly the door to the Marshal's office opened, and there he stood: a big, hearty, smiling man with a black handlebar mustache and a silver star on his shirt. He strode up to Coyote and gave him a crushing pawshake. "Hey, Coyote, you ol' varmint! How you doin'?"
"Just fine, Matt. Was passing through, and thought I should say hello. How are things?"
Basterson's smile vanished. "Well . . . ." he said, "to be entirely honest, they been better. Whyntcha come on into my office?" He led Coyote into the room from which he'd just emerged and showed him to a comfortable chair. He then sat down behind his desk.
"What's up, old friend?" asked Coyote.
"Take a look at that wanted poster," said Basterson, pointing to a big sheet of paper taped to the wall behind him. Coyote got up and gave it a quick skim. It was like most wanted posters in Mythica, except that instead of one or two pictures, it had seven. Seven exceptionally pretty women, with the same long black hair, the same alabaster skin, and the same impudent expressions, stared out at him. "OK," said Coyote, "the Sultry Sisters. You've never had much trouble bagging bad girls before. What's so special about these ladies?"
"Well," said Basterson. "They're human-sized land fairies . . . ."
"So catching them should be a cinch."
"They seem to be a new . . . a new mutation. They got about ten times the seductive powers of your regular land fairy, to judge from survivors' reports. I've sent three posses out after 'em, and none have come back. None. I can't risk more men, Coyote. I'm at a total loss here."
"Hmmm," said Coyote. "Like other land fairies, but even more seductive. If they expect any male who comes up against them to just drop his trousers, they may be over-confident."
"So far, they got every right to be over-confident. You plannin' to stick around awhile? 'Cause anythin' you cook up in that furry little noggin o' yours would surely help."
"My noggin's heating up," said Coyote. "Let's see what pops out."
After sleeping on it at the Silver Dollar Hotel (also adjacent to the town square), Coyote had a plan. He explained it to Basterson during breakfast in the hotel restaurant. When he'd finished, he said; "So that's it: I'll either bring them to justice, or I'll die trying."
"Sounds mighty dangerous," said the Marshal. "I'd hate for 'em to tack your hide to the wall, Coyote."
"If I know fays," said Coyote, "I've got a decent chance. Even without a special mutation, girl fays are the vainest critters alive. What I've cooked up here goes right to their vanity."
"And that new stuff from the Acme Corporation? It's been tested a zillion times by now, I reckon?"
"Uh, not quite. But the folks who made it haven't let me down so far."
"Well," said the Marshal, "good luck, little pardner."
Coyote looked out the restaurant window at the gallows, which was only forty feet away. "How about a friendly wager, Matt? In less than two full days, all seven'll be noosed and kicking--or I owe you thirty bucks."
"You little rascal! If'n you lose, I can't collect! Just be careful."
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