I was watching television the other night, and one of those old spaghetti westerns came on. You know, the kind where Clint Eastwood rides into town and weeds out the bad guys, never giving a name, and never taking shit from anyone. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about.

So anyway, I decided that I could write a fairly decent western. Like all genre fiction, it has a formula, and with a little observation, it's not too hard to find.   Anyway, here's how mine would go: A small town, like Nowhere, New Mexico, is being plagued by these vicious thugs (no organized crime in those days), who only want to rape, pillage, and steal gold. They terrorize the townsfolk for a little bit, and eventually everybody comes to accept this situation as the status quo. The townsfolk are afraid of the bandits (even the feeble old Local Sheriff), so they give them stuff to keep them from getting REALLY nasty. The townspeople may not be real happy, but nobody complains.

THEN, this lone rider shows up one day (he's the Hero). He doesn't give a name, and he walks around the town like he owns the place. One of the first things he encounters in the tavern are the local "hussies". The prettiest gives him the eye and the wink, that kind of "why don't you come upstairs" sort of look. He nods to her in a sort of noncommittal kind of way. He's not too sure if it's lust or love, but either way he knows he's in for some serious fucking.

The next morning, after the townspeople brief him on the situation, the Hero decides to take matters into his own hands, calling the Local Sheriff all sorts of horrible names, like "coward". The Local Sheriff doesn't like that too much, but he knows that he's way outclassed by this guy from out of the desert, and so he doesn't kick up that much of a fuss.

At this point, the Hero comes up with a Plan, which will rid the town of all those pesky Bandits. Our Hero is no fool, though, so he wants to be compensated for all of his hard work. Eager to get rid of the Bandits, the Townspeople agree. Work begins on implementing the Plan, just as word arrives as to when the Bandits will be in town next.

Cut to the next day, probably high noon. The Bandits ride into town, and hardly any of the Townspeople are visible. The Bandits wander around kind of confused for a while, until they turn a corner and run smack dab into our Hero.

Threats are exchanged, insults are traded, and names are called. The Bandits get ready to shoot, but... Our Hero plays his trump card, and out of nowhere dozens of Townsfolk (including the cowardly Local Sheriff) appear waving rifles and shotguns and all manner of homemade weapons. The Bandits realize that they are hopelessly outnumbered, and flee, probably never to return.The Townspeople cheer and thank the Hero, and everybody has a big ole party in the dancehall.

The next morning, after another roll in the hay with the pretty "hussy", our Hero saddles up his horse and takes his gold. He leaves quietly, and without fuss, realizing that it was lust after all.

Roll credits.

There, see, I could write a great western.