[DIV]

Since I may have missed an update here and there, and I like this story too much to just cram it in my grad school application where it belongs, I've decided to share a short story (as this is for my grad school application, feel free to point out any grammatical mistakes- though I'm pretty sure there aren't any left). Behold, El Guapo:


It was early morning when The Barber finally reached El Guapo. He had no horse, and had been walking for nearly a day from the closest town. His worn leather boots were so covered in dust from the dry dirt roads that one could no longer tell what color they were supposed to be. He wore spurs, though with no horse, it must have only been desperation to fill some cowboy stereotype.
The Barber paused to rest at the edge of the town, surveying El Guapo as the sun rose slowly over it. It was a shabby, broken place, not uncommon in the old west, but making the town's name bitterly ironic. The main street was empty save for a few horses, though distant voices could be heard. The Barber could identify a few buildings, including a jail, a tailor and a tavern, for which he immediately set out, sure that an early morning whiskey would be a good pick-me-up after his long journey.
The bar was dim and unimpressive, the latter possibly cause for the former. It was rather full despite the earliness of the hour and The Barber felt a renewed fondness for the town. There was already a man at the ivory, playing piani, not to be confused with piano. No one looked up when The Barber entered, so he walked, needless spurs jangling, to the bar.

"Oi, barkeep." The Barber called rudely.

The fully bearded bartender walked down the bar to The Barber, fixing him with an irritated stare as he went. He poured The Barber a whiskey and slid it to him without taking his order, clearly not interested in strangers. The Barber finished his drink in one swig, forcing the bartender to walk down to him and refill.

"I've heard there is no barber in this town." The Barber said to the bartender when he was close enough.
"That's right." The bartender answered, shifting his weight uncomfortably as he went to fill up The Barber's drained glass.

The Barber, having received the answer he wanted, didn't notice the bartender's wariness. He swirled around on his stool to address the bar. The table in front of him held a fully bearded man and his son, not yet at maturity, but still scruffy and unshaven. The table behind them carried two fully bearded men, and behind them a fully bearded man and his fully bearded wife. This town was a gold mine, just waiting for The Barber to crack it open with a few skilled strokes of his straight razor.

The Barber stood and called "Anybody need a shave?"

The hairy people of the bar fell silent so suddenly and completely that the struggles of a man in the little cowboy's room could be heard. The bartender, apparently no longer xenophobic, put a hand on The Barber's shoulder.

"Shavin's illegal here. By order of the mayor." he said quietly and gently, as if The Barber must have encountered this barbering discrimination elsewhere.
"How can you outlaw shaving? Who's the mayor? How can I contact him?" The Barber answered incredulously

The furry man at the table in front of The Barber leaned forward and answered The Barber in a hushed voice.

"No one contacts the mayor 'less he want to be talked to. No one contacts..." he paused, adding a great deal of awe to the name, "Mustachio."

If anyone had been making the slightest bit of noise, it stopped then. Even the man who was having digestive troubles had rejoined the silent fray.

"This is outrageous. I know how to get the mayor to show himself. I'll ask again," The Barber looked around pointedly "Who needs a shave?"
"I do."

For the first time since The Barber had addressed the bar there was noise. The entire building erupted into excited and angry objections. The tension continued to mount until The Barber glared at the piani player, who stopped playing minor chords and looked away sheepishly.

"Well, let's get you shaved up then." The Barber said to the boy directly in front of him.
"Stephen! It's illegal! You can't defy Mustachio, you can't!"
"Enough, father. I'm tired of scratching my face all of the time and I know you are too."

Without another word, Stephen strode out of the tavern, The Barber hot on his heels. Closely following the two was Stephen's father, all of the bar, and soon enough, what The Barber had to assume was most of the town. The Barber led Stephen down a grassy hill to a clearing visible from the town proper. He deliberately took his time finding a spot and did nothing to dissuade the large crowd from following.
A collective gasp came from the crowd as a large pointed shadow was thrown over the clearing. Standing at the top of the hill, impressively backed by the rising sun, was Mustachio. He was a completely beardless man with an enormous handlebar mustache, making his name ridiculously on the nose.

"There is no shaving in this town." Mustachio called in a dark, powerful voice.
"Come down and stop me then." The Barber taunted childishly, pulling his straight razor from his hip holster.

The Barber swung down towards Stephen's dry face, ignoring his own vendetta against razor burn. His razor never cut the first hair off of Stephen's face. Mustachio had caught The Barber's razor in one of his handlebars, his mustache pushing the razor back as The Barber attempted to thrust it forward. The Barber pulled back and swung again, this time directly at Mustachio's enormous handlebars. Mustachio again caught the blade and pushed it back. Sweat began to form on both men, as neither were willing to let up.
The town watched aghast as the motionless battle raged, each man bringing unyielding force against the other. They stayed like that forever, caught in the eternal struggle between hair and sharpened metal.

[willtheoct]

i.... don't get it.

[Dracowrath]

So, wheres the funny part?

[Cybercat]

"The bar was dim and unimpressive, the latter possibly cause for the former."

Unless lights automatically go dim when there's not a lot to see, that should be "reason" not "cause". (Well, you did ask.)

[saffer's]

well this is a bit of a pointless story!!

it aint funny...

[Claire Tigre]

i think its interesting, but i dont see the humor either.... maybe you could explain, DIV?

edit, never mind, i found the humor, i think.

This post has been edited by Claire Tigre: 23 April 2009 - 02:31 PM