Pull up a sittin' iron, fella, and
I'll spin you a yarn, about a quartet of mean hombres and the
too-smart-fer-his-own-good Colonel who figured he could rip off
them and the Union Army, and about the way they took their revenge
on his low-down carcass. The year was 1871, but the history was
not our own...
Fella name of Clayton McFarland was a Colonel in the Union Army,
stationed out in Kansas. An' one day he done got wind of a secret
shipment of Army gold, coming in from California. So, figgerin'
he's done his bit for his country an' it's time he settled hisself
down with a healthier pension than the Army's offerin' him, he
gathers four o' the hardest, baddest sons o' bitches under his
command that he reckons he can trust with something like this,
and tells 'em the plan. They'll split the gold five ways and live
out the rest o' their days however they want.
So the plan goes off without a hitch, and they bury the gold in
an outta-the-way spot, and report back to the Colonel. Knowin'
full well that the Army ain't gonna take this lyin' down, he tells
the fellas that the best thing for them to do is to head down
South into Reb territory as spies. He can cook the books, tell
the Army they were gone when the robbery happened, and they can
come back when the heat's blown over. So off they go, infiltrate
a Reb unit and just lay low.
Now the Colonel's been planning on this all along. If there's
something better than a passel o' gold, it's five passels o' gold.
So he leaks word to Johnny Reb about the four spies in their midst,
and before they know what's up, the four fellas are caught, and
strung up on a hangin' tree like common cattle rustlers. As the
horses are whupped away and the ropes go tight, them fellas've
got Colonel McFarland's name on their lips, an' all they want
is a shot at him - but it's far too late for that, and they swing.
The Colonel waits a while, retires honourably from the Army, digs
up the gold, and in time-honoured tradition, heads west. He buys
himself a newspaper office in an old ghost town called Gabriel
and sets himself up a company printin' playing cards. The town
takes off again - so much so that he renames it Ressurection -
and he appoints himself mayor, and lives a comfortable life.
One thing he wants more'n anything is to expand his card company.
So, amongst other advertisin' gimmicks, every so often he puts
a golden card into fifteen different decks coming out of his factory,
and lets it be known on the back of the packs that the folks who
find the golden cards are invited to a grand poker tournament
in his town, with a prize of $15,000 goin' to the winner. Naturally
this gets folks a-hoppin' and talkin' about his cards all over,
and they buy more of 'em, which is just what he wants. O' course,
he can't afford to just go handin' over 15 big uns every time,
so he cheats, and makes it so's he always wins. By that time,
the job is done, his advertisin' is out there. And so time goes
by.
Now the year is 1876. In four shallow graves under a wicked-lookin'
tree down New Mexico way, somethin's stirrin' in those four fellas.
Somethin' not o' this Earth, and somethin' that sure as shootin'
oughta stay outta our realm. Nonetheless, these things reckon
it's time those four got themselves up outta their graves and
got their chance at gettin' the Colonel back fer what he done.
Can you imagine what it's like to wake up five years after you
died, buried underground, with yer thoughts o' revenge burnin'
like they never left off? Now imagine knowin' where he is, what
he's doin', everything you need, and no explanation for how you
know this. Add in the fact that when you claw your way up to the
surface, your buddies are there as well, and all four o' you gotcherselves
powers you can't explain, powers straight outta Hell and fueled
by hate and demons.
Now, as to what happens next... well, that part ain't been writ
yet...