Dr. Blood's Orgy of GORE!

After the arrival of Garfer and his Canadians, the expedition bolted North. They found a shady canyon just shy of the Rio Grande. The bright lights of El Paso were visable over the horizon. The command now hunkered down for an ambush of the elusive Apache. Sergeant Harriman organized the pickets, which would trigger the ambush, along with Jed and Cullen.

Groggy stared across the river. It was twilight, and it was still. A beautiful, tranquil night. He could smell the last fleeting smell of chloroform, as autumn slowly died down...

He was suddenly tapped on the shoulder by a solemn-looking Tim.

"Major..." he began.

"Yes?"

Tyreen looked hesitant, and finally faced his commander. "Look, Major, there's no good reason for me to hate you. I mean everyone hated Hex, and you spend a lot of time online too, and we've fought many battles together..."

"So do we kiss now?"

"NO!" Tyreen bleched. "But I think we should put aside our differences..." He extended his hand, and after a moment's hesitation Dundee took it.

"Why thank you," Groggy said, shaking his hands. "I'm glad you feel that way."

Tyreen began to walk off, smiling. For once, he was happy. He had no reason to kill his old enemy, and as soon as they were done decimating the Apache, they would be able to go there seperate ways. A warm tingly feeling welled up inside him.

This feeling was oblivious to the always-mischevious Dave, who saw the Major and FINALLY had a clear shot at him. Dave drew his knife, relishing the opportunity, taking his time...

And then suddenly, with a savage, gleeful yell, he LEAPED into the air, and prepared to sink his knife into the Major's back. It was the moment he and all of his online buddies had been waiting for. He could feel it now, the knife thrusting into the warm, quivering flesh of his hated Major...

BANG!

Dave fell over dead, a bullet in his brain. The Major had killed him. Simple. Done. He deserved it.

Tyreen rushed over and saw, aghast, that Jenkins had been killed by the Major. His bonhomme disappeared instantly. The sight of his dead colleague caused his old hatred to instantly swell back up. He stared at the Major, who was still holding his revolver.

"What of it, Tim?" he said coldly.

Tim absently began reaching for his weapon; his men were lining up behind him. A massacre was imminent, when -

WHOOSH!

An arrow flew through the air and struck Tector Gorch on the head! Suddenly the command saw the whole Apache army rushing through their camps. No alarm had been sounded, not even a !

The camp's thoughts of massacring itself disappeared; the Indians were about to massacre them.

Fortunately, the Indians were stupid and didn't lay any ambush positions; they simply bum-rushed the better-armed mercenaries and started lancing them. Oh, a few insiginficants fell, but that's it.

Plasmotic Snake, though wounded twice, grabbed his super-long fictional ASSAULT WEAPON! and began screaming a piercing WARREN OATES SCREAM! as he turned his gun on the enemy. Apache after Apache fell under his gun, and he kept screaming until he finally fell, a bullet in his brain.

Sartana directed his trained pigeons like a mad conductor; the pigeons flew in coordinated formations, pooping explosive eggs onto the enemy. The Apache fell, decimated by the dozens.

N-word Jim surged forward with his special Bitch-Gun, blasting Apaches into a million fragments as they came forward.

Sitting in a blanket when all this started, Marie squealed in fear as an Apache moved forward to Lance her; but Anthony jumped up and blasted him with his shotgun. Suddenly, another Apache struck McSwiggin in the side of the head, and he fell unconscious.

Marie looked up from her blanket and saw a familiar figure. It was that brute Sierra Charriba! Yes, the same guy who SLAPPED HER! What an unforgivable sin! And he'd probably stolen her Cheney Duvall books too! She fumbled around for a weapon.

Even though his men were being slaughtered en masse, Charriba was in the mood for showboating. As dozens of his men collapsed around him, he waved his rifle in the air.

"WHO YOU SEND AGAINST ME NOW!?" he shouted as he was sprayed with blood .

He looked down and saw - no, it couldn't be! Yes, it was - that girl he'd slapped!

Marie's hands shook as she rose her Colt revolver at the savage Indian.

A loud exploded through the air as Charriba fell backwards, dead.

After the chief collapsed, shot by his archnemesis (no, not THAT one), well the battle was over fairly quickly. The Apache were decimated, torn apart by pigeon poop, machine gun bullets, and sabers. One guy ALMOST killed the Major - but, in a deliciously (or head-shakingly) ironic touch, Tim Tyreen O'Brien shot the Apache at point-blank range, setting his shirt on fire. He was then devoured by Sartana's trained circus rabbits. The Apache screamed as the rabbits borrowed into flesh and ate his eyes out. Isn't that adorable?

More Apaches fell, by the dozen, and then finally the last guy was left. It was -

YES!

The Old Dude from the river!

He babbled in Apache, saying I surrender or something like that, but Dundee stepped forward and blew his brains out. That old bastard had it coming.

Dundee and Tyreen stared at each other, completely baffled. They... had won. They had defeated the enemy they'd been searching in a year and a half, just like that. In about fifteen minutes or less. And it was accidental. And it was over.

Hurray?

"Man, that was a let-down," Matt/Mark/Whoever the Bugler muttered as he holstered his pistol.

"How anti-climactic," Joe Starbuck shouted.

"SHUT UP!" Dundee shouted.

There was a rustling in the bushes. Everyone levelled their guns. Was it more Apache, or a red herring!

IT'S ONLY A DRUNK SUBORDINATE!

"Major, Major, the Apaches are coming!" Sergeant Harriman shouted, pointing behind her.

The Major could not get over her stupidity. He simply watched in bemusement, his arms folded, as Anna slowly surveyed the carnage at the encampment.

"Uh... oops," she said finally.

"Where are the others?" Dundee asked.

"Well, see, we had a little tequila left-"

Dundee stormed off. Fucking drunks, ruining his command.

He suddenly saw the body of Sierra Charriba, laying at the edge of a small rise. He saw - YES! - Marie sitting by him. She was trembling violently, still contemplating her sinful deed.

"He looks so small, now," she said, trying to smile as she shook, bent down, and vomited.

"He was big enough, girl," the Major said stoically as he kicked the body down the incline.

And that's the end of that chapter!

* * *

As the body rolled down the incline, Sergeants Kimmel and Cullen, and Jed, were laughing and partying when they saw it. It was that Injun!

The drunken soldiers scrambled into position, grabbing their weapons, and fired thousands of rounds into the already-dead Indian.

The next morning, slightly hung over but proud, they brought the body into camp. Dundee just shook his head. But as he turned away from them, he saw Tyreen, standing, facing him straight on.

"Now, Major," he said menacingly, "Or across the river in Texas?"

Dundee thought for a moment, staring defiantly, then...

"SEE YA!"

Dundee scampered away. Tyreen didn't bother to chase after him; he simply stood there and shook his head.

Suddenly the voice of Michelle rung out through the camp. "You boys want a fight? I got one for ya! Get up here and look!"