The Big, The Bad, The Bodacious
by GJ



Dear Readers: The old west genre needs a fresh coat of paint. Here is my
homage to the classic western. Of course any names, locations , situations,
etc are figments of my imagination and any resemblance to real life, are
totally coincidental.

The County seat in Jasper, Wyoming was the focal point of law and order in the
violent old west. U. S. Marshal Bertie Harris was the government's answer to
the mandate of

law . The amazing thing was that Bertie was a She.... and what a SHE. She was
40 years old, 6'2", 220lbs. She had 21" bis, 30" quads, and 18" calves. In her
heyday, she executed 515 killers who were sentenced to death. Her methods were
varied. She could kill a man with one punch to his jaw or nose. She could
shoot out the eye of the wickedest gunslinger while using a mirror and
shooting backwards. Now, she was in charge of a group of amazing women, who
followed in her footsteps. They were the Big, The Bad, The Bodacious.

One hot, dusty day, she summoned her three best deputies to her office. As she
sipped her ultra strong coffee, in her favorite mug made from the jaw bone of
one of her first kills, she thumbed thru the dog-eared file on her desk. It
seemed that a rash of killings and rapes had taken place in an area to the
west of her location. These atrocities were being committed by a group of
escaped killers, who had beat the hangman's noose. Now they ran wild and free,
causing all sorts of mayhem. They had to be put down, quickly executed before
more civilians were cut down needlessly.

At 2pm exactly, three outrageously beautiful, tough, muscular women entered
her office. The first was Hattie McCabe. She was 25 years old. Hattie looked
very much likea famous Canadian bodybuilder with the initials PH.. She could
and did punch out a mule who got in her way. She had once taken a man who
killed her daddy and literally broke him in half, dropping the bloody pieces
on the trail as she rode towards a secluded swimming hole to wash off his
blood, body fragments and feces off her hard, tanned, sweaty body.

The next bastion of the law, Consuela Vega, entered and took a seat. Now 26
years old, Consuela had migrated from a tiny Mexican town, called Las
Musculosas, a town made up of unusually strong and muscular women. Consuela
looked like the bodybuilder from N. J. with the initials ES. Consuela had once
broke the jaws of three men at the same time with one punch following thru
with her bone breaking steel fist. They were dead before they hit the ground.

Following closely, bringing up the rear( and what a rear it was...her ass
cheeks filled out her levis, showing her sculpted butt muscles dear readers)
was the last peace officer(or should I say piece officer), named Willa Hudson.
Thirty something years old, she resembled an amazing bodybuilder from New
Orleans with the initials TC. Willa had once broken the necks of four men
simultaneously by using her quads, two biceps, and calves. After she squeezed
them to death, their necks were hideously snapped like twigs.

Each woman specialized in the use of one favorite weapon( aside from their
muscles and fists, etc.) Hattie used a bull whip, Consuela the Bowie knife and
Willa the pistol. They were each deadly proficient and had collectively run up
a high Execution Rate( ER) . Bertie passed around the folders of information
and explained that this bunch of desperados were the toughest assignment the
women had ever encountered. She gave them carte blanche on how the executions
were to be carried out. The only thing she required was some Proof of
Kill(POK). Then the files would be closed with the big red Termination stamp.

After the briefing, Consuela suggested that they go to the local saloon called
the Easy Aces. These hard riding, hard fighting women could drink any man
under the table or knock him out there, easily. The saloon was a typical one
with a man in a derby playing the piano. The bar was wooden and huge. The
bartender was named Frieda Hunter. She, like the entering ladies, was tough,
powerful and could mop up the floor with any man or group of same without
breaking a sweat. She resembled a famous German bodybuilder with the initials
SK.

The three deputies entered and sauntered over to the bar( isn't that what all
cow folks do in a bar, dear readers). They all ordered rye whisky, neat. As
they waited for their drinks they surveyed the patrons in the establishment.
In the corner were 4 of the ugliest, dirtiest, meanest looking cow punchers,
who were eye balling the trio intently. As Frieda went over to serve these men
their drinks, one of them put his hand on her ass and squeezed, saying, "come
her darlin, let's have some fun." Wronggggggggggg!". Frieda did not like to be
man handled and was intent on showing this loser the effects of Her woman-
handling prowess. She turned, grabbed his arm and broke it over her 28" quad
right leg. Then she punched him in the face 5 times in rapid succession( about
3 seconds). This hapless male found himself with a broken jaw in 5 places. All
his teeth were knocked out and some actually flew into his beer, which Frieda
had just deposited on the table, in front of him. In a matter of minutes, he
would bleed out all over the floor. The ladies at the bar heard Frieda utter,
"Hump, guess Mr.Toothless will be buried in Boot Hill." As she turned to
leave, the buddies of the soon-to- be corpse, jumped up and surrounded the
German muscle- frau, intent on doing her bodily harm.

It was then that the ladies swung into action. Hattie took the bull whip off
of her belt and flicked it five times. The first two lashes caught her
intended target in the eyes. These orbs were plucked from his eye sockets and
reminded one of free eggs at the bar( except these had blood nerve endings
still visibly attached to them). The next lash obliterated his nose as it came
off his face in a bloody geyser. The last two strikes removed his ears so
easily. He died without a face. Hattie sat in a chair and watched the rest of
the goings on.

Consuela had a brace of knives on her belt. She picked out a tall, lanky
cowboy and decided to use him for a pin cushion. As the man took out his gun
to blow away their friend, the bartender, Consuela threw several knives at
once.( Can you imagine dear readers, the sweaty muscular bicep, as its power
was used to propel these missiles of death right to its target) The first one
embedded right between his eyes pinning him to the dart board behind him. It
went in up to the hilt. The second one went into his mouth pinning his head
like a butterfly on a board. The next one went through his neck, clear
through. He hung there as a grisly reminder for all to see. In seconds the
floor underneath him was red with brain juice, mouth juice and neck meat.
Consuela then took a seat next to Hattie and watched Willa in action.

Now Willa drew her Colt 45 and let loose with a barrage of bullets. They all
struck the last man neatly, drilling precise holes in his body. Actually, she
shot him with a special pattern. First the bullets took got him right between
the eyes, blowing out his brains all over Frieda. Then as the dead- shot
muscle cowgirl continued, she formed a pattern with her initials(W H)in his
torso. When she was done, and the last bullet had entered, blowing out what
was left of his chest,

he fell to the floor, having 12 bullets in him. Talk about dead weight......he
had eaten lead. One might call him Lead Belly. He too made a mess all over.
Body fragments all over the place.

The four women bellied up to the bar (except they each had eight packs, no
bellies there) and had a few rounds of whisky. Hattie turned to Frieda and
suggested that she might join the ladies, as they rode to serve justice north
of their location. Frieda took all of one minute to agree and was deputized on
the spot. Within the hour, these amazing four women rode out of town, ready,
willing and able to dispense frontier justice, eagerly looking foward to it.