J102 Census Team; stand down

19 05 2011

Like deputy sheriffs we’ve had our badges forcefully removed. My trusty holster which carried my bar-code reader into every QT gunfight hangs mournfully on the study door. My trusty steed languishes on the driveway awaiting a good scrub-down and possibly a service. Thrashed as the posse raced into the wilderness of Conniburrow, its joints are creaking.

The OK-Saloon @ Willen has been our watering-hole. A barista who knows her business; double-espressos, the whisky of the cow-hand. Saddle-sore we’ve consoled each other and spoken sanity into our statistics-fuddled brains. Unable to chew the filthy weed, we’ve chewed the cud until forced to spit out HC1’s. The local jailer was unwilling to provide evidence of any prisoners. Some say they’re so hungry they ate their I1s.

I’m told the sheriff roams Aylesbury Vale bareback. Who knows? She mysteriously appears in one of three states (AV, MK, SO) without seeming to spend any time on the trail. She too frequents coffee-bars but is strangely drawn to dusty town centres. Neither the fields of Willen nor the field of Netherfield attract her. She’s horse-whipped her deputies into a counting team, and against the odds they’ve counted. Now we count for nothing as we return to the prairie. Where will our next bonanza be? The gold rush is over. At the time it made perfect sense, sense to us; a census. (click on photo for full-size)

J102 MK disbands

The Sheriff and her MK deputies step down




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