THE SERPENT

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Another young nobleman slaps leather and gallops for his life from the bandit of the week. This bad boy is wielding a katana, no less, but, hey, he's shooting just down the road from Marto, so why not. Craaack! Enter the Queen. The Serpent argues they are both on the same side and that there's plenty of gold to share. Oh, but have you got the wrong number, Little WeedHopper. The Queen mounts an able defense, wounding the Serpent on his right arm, and a tricky getaway that includes bolos and a deft alternative method of unsaddling ala sharp object to girth.  Ooomph. Where did she come from? asks one of the Serpent's minions. "Hell," Serpent replies, "and I've got her return ticket right here."   Meanwhile, Montoya is fending off the dons who are not so much pleased by his inability to deal with the new bandit. My wife is so concerned, I have to watch her constantly, Hidalgo complains. I'm so sure that is why your wife concerns you, Senor, Montoya snaps back. Well, you leave us no choice, Hidalgo parries, We will just have to rely on this weak woman, then, since she seems able to curb this bandit and you can, so clearly, not.  Montoya stomps off, showing his brand new uniform to good advantage.     You look distressed, Senor. And you look like you've sprung a leek, Senorita. Ah, produce metaphors. My favorite. Here, Colonel, have an apple. I take it you are not referring to Snow White, Senorita. No, but you could be Grumpy. Tessa's attention is taken by a familiar face across the plaza. Do you know him? Marta asks. No, but the Queen does. The Serpent's henchman is seeking a doctor for the Serpent's arm wound. A helpful peasant gives him directions. He storms the office just as Dr. Helm is seeing one of his obstetric patients out the door.  "Well," says Helms, "is it the inflamation or the discharge of that weapon concerns you most?"  Nothing like a little VD humor to lighten the mood, don't ya know. My Master is wounded, the man stammers. "In the head," Helm quips, "if he sent you for help." Helms has no trouble disarming the man and bashing him into the side table. One more set of priceless glassware bites the dust.  Now, why don't you just tell your boss I'm not on his HMO preferred physician list, and go on your way. "But the Serpent will kill me if I come back without you," the man complains. "And I guess that makes me a herpetologist. Damn that Hippocrates."
	The Serpent...page two