The Best Rootin' Tootin' Shootin' Gunslinger in the Whole Damned Galaxy by Mike Resnick Page B

surprised.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “They’d hit him with a murder rap. I had to grease a lot of palms.” He finished his beer. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll make it all back on the next world."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “You have a plan,” suggested Mr. Ahasuerus dryly.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “You’d better believe it,” said Flint. “We’ve got a real live killer on our hands. They arrested him for murder the last time he appeared in the ring, and ran us off the planet."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “I don’t see how—"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “We’re putting a notorious killer on display!” interrupted Flint. “We’re giving a whole world a chance to put up their champion against the Dancer! We’re going to run ads on every videocast, we’re going to boost the prize to five million credits and we’re going to triple the admission to the specialty tent."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  The blue man looked his surprise. “I rather assumed Billybuck would go back to his original act, now that we’ve had this unfortunate occurrence."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Not a chance."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “But we can’t make a profit from that poor being’s unfortunate death!"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Flint laughed. “Two weeks from now you’re going to be so grateful to that poor Tilarban asshole for having the good sense to die in the ring that you’re going to be shipping flowers to his grave."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “And if another sentient being should die from heart failure during the next performance?” demanded Mr. Ahasuerus, so upset that he inadvertently spilled most of his remaining coffee onto the saucer.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Relax,” said Flint. “We’re not that lucky."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Mr. Ahasuerus stared at his partner for a long moment, then sighed and turned his attention back to his coffee.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Can I open my present now?” asked Flint.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “I had quite forgotten about it,” said the blue man. “Yes, by all means."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Flint ripped the wrapping paper off and found himself holding a paperback book in his hands. “What the hell is this?” he demanded.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “I had Mr. Romany ship it to me just before he left Earth."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “ Your Body and How to Care for It ,” read Flint. He looked up at his partner. “This is some kind of a joke, right?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Absolutely not,” said Mr. Ahasuerus seriously. “I have every hope that this book will help persuade you to cut down on your drinking and give up cigarettes altogether."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “I’ll cherish it forever,” said Flint mockingly.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “I would be satisfied if you merely read it."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “As soon as I work my way through Monk’s stack of pornography,” said Flint.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  There was another knock at the door.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “It’s probably Tojo, back to find out how a whistle works,” commented Flint.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Mr. Ahasuerus opened the door and Billybuck Dancer entered the office, a disconcerted expression on his handsome face.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “I hope I ain’t bothering you or nothing,” began the Dancer, tipping his hat.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Not at all, Billybuck,” said Mr. Ahasuerus pleasantly. “What can we do for you?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “I just want to make sure I still got a job here."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Why shouldn’t you?” asked the blue man, puzzled.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Well, you know—that guy dying in the ring and all,” said the Dancer.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â