It was a cold day in Hell when the High Plains Ferrerman returned to the town once known as AmyAbbyville. The town still wore a slightly pinkish hue from the painting party of the previous Fall. A few people roamed the streets, seemingly in a daze, crying out, "Where do we go now? What do we do?" Several tumbleweeds skirted by.
Ferrerman spotted Racy, the town drunk, coming towards him.
"Well, I'll be!" Racy exclaimed, "it's the Ferrerman! Dag nabit, Ferrerman! Drinks for EVERYBODY! O happy day!"
Upon hearing this, the townspeople scattered. Those who had not ever known the Ferrerman, knew to fear him because they had been trained to do so by the others, who had been trained to by 770 and the 3 lettered girl. It was kinda like beating a puppy to make him mean. What do you get from that? Mean dogs. Pat attention now! That's just a metaphor for the townspeople's habit of assaulting strangers as a way of forcing assimilation on the weaker minded ones.
"Well, Racy, how's things in The Quorum?"
"The Quorum? The Quorum? Why- dag nabit, they all up an left! Dag gummit! Didn't even say goodbye! They all gone! Gosh dangit!"
This didn't really surprise the Ferrerman. Any secret society is like a pyramid scheme in that those who get in early get paid while feeding off the others. No doubt the ninnies were off somewhere else, setting up the same scheme looking for new "regs" to control and lord over. The real problem with AmyAbbyville was it had been a "troll based" economy. When an economy is built solely on importing trolls- no exporting- it is bound to collapse. And worse, when most of the imported trolls are phony, in-house trolls, the whole community suffers. And, Ferrerman noted, "Don't get me started on the ninnie penchant for "jump-ins" of new 'residents'". He added to no one in particular, "I mean it- DON'T get me started!"
Tru dat. They did like to abuse probationary posters to see how much "carp" they would take. It was probably the same tactic used IRL with gentleman that made their lives a revolving door of suspect men, a continuing drama of middle-aged, female angst. How does one proclaim a desire to be "held" while pushing a man away at the same time?
The War Against Ferrerman had also done in the town. It was a war that could not be won. When the "queen" had proclaimed falsely that Ferrerman had WMD's (Weapons of Mass Distraction) and plunged AmyAbbyville into war based on this lie, it was the beginning of the end for the burg. Bubble tea, which prior to the hostilities had flowed freely from the teat of 770 (along with free, fat-free, freshly baked brownies!) had shot up in price 1000%! To finance the war, trolls were created like so much off-budget money as well. One by one and two by two, frustrated with 770's war, good citizens of AmyAbbyville began to leave. The best citizens left rather than study an un-winnable war waged against an innocent Ferrerman who could not be defeated.
Ferrerman scanned the tumbleweed strewn streets of AmyAbbyville. Outside the saloon, a young, goofy-looking boy was getting the snot beat out of him by three dance hall girls. The kid had a wry smile on his face. He seemed to be enjoying the beating. Down the street, Subjugated, the town attorney, was standing upon two high horses, one white one black. He defended the merits of both horses, all day, before pronouncing himself "above it all". No one listened.
"Ferrerman", Racy said, sadness coming over his face, "they's talk of cutting off are advise column supply! What will we do?!"
Poor Racy, Ferrerman thought. A good citizen, he deserved a better fate. But, things did not bode well for AmyAbbyville or for anyone who chose to stay behind. Those who had not been picked by the ninnies to join them in their new, virtual world would find it hard to stay and rebuild the town and even harder to pick up and try and make a go of it elsewhere in Topixland. It was rough, lawless country compared to AmyAbbyville. Ferrerman rode the range. He knew. Racy mightcould make it but, not too many of the stragglers would. There were some towns in Topixland...well, be afraid. Be very afraid...
"I don't know, Racy" Ferrerman replied. "But, good luck to you."
With that, the Ferrerman rode quietly out of AmyAbbyville. Once again, Hell fell behind him as he headed off in the day...
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