Professional Princess

The Expats’ Cowboys

This story is set in the town of Hanger Lane which is an old Western town where everyone rides horses, drinks in the ‘Fair Dinkum Saloon’, wears leather chaps and drinks beer from bottles without removing the tops.

It’s really just how you imagined it. Every so often, someone will shout 'Fight' and then a few people get shot, fall over dead and get up a bit later.

There is always a piano playing in the saloon, although it might be playing itself as there is a shortage of piano players since Wombat refused on grounds of saying it made him look like a sissy. But the piano doesn’t mind playing with itself, as we all don’t - I mean, its healthy isn't it?

And in the saloon, when someone walks in, everyone stops drinking, the barman hides and everyone ducks under the table. I don't know why, its The Law.

The county jail is for Bad People or people that have pissed off Anya, and they can be seen staring out of the window and gripping the bars with a 'hang dog' expression. Don't feel sorry for them, they are Bad People.

Once a week, the outlaws from the neighbouring town 'Gypsy Corner', ride through Hangar Lane town and fire off lots of guns and shout 'Yee Haaa'. Don't be too worried though, it's a regular event and people line up to be shot by them.

If your name isn't mentioned, you are either in the county jail with the Bad People or you have buggered off to Gypsy Corner. It's not personal.

So put the kettle on and come once again into my world but please wipe your feet as you come in.


FRASER AND THE BAD PEOPLE

Fraser had just been assigned to be the Sheriff of the county jail. This came with some responsibility really as he had to look after the Bad People.

Lounging back into his chair Fraser put his feet up on his desk. Lighting a fag, he inhaled deeply and out of the corner of his eye, kept an eye on Jim who was writing 'shit and bollocks' on the walls with his new biro pen.

'Oi, hell you, I think that's ma property!' Shouted Fraser in a fake American accent. He felt he had to do that because he looked a super cowboy with his sheriff’s badge and all.

'P*ss off, what you gonna do about it?' Yelled Jim who then proceeded to flash his hairy bum through the bars.

Brisben sat in a crumbled heap on the floor trying to convince Bixie that yes, he really was the King of Australia with 14 hot blooded full bodied wives just waiting to shag him.

'You see, where I live, we ride shiny buses and we have everything'. Brisben said to a wide eyed Bixie, totally impressed.

Then remembering his that he only managed to satisfy 5 of the girls, Ben thought better of bragging any further, as word had got around that the remaining beauties were left wanting.

Fraser meanwhile, who had been watching the 'show', took a swig of his beer and nodded off. It was mighty hard work keepin' a check on these here boys.


IN THE SALOON – ‘FAIR DINKUM’

The sounds of piano playing 'Oh Susannah'. Wombat was making a guest appearance and sat there in his red lumberjack shirt, jeans, braces to stop them falling to his ankles, cowboy boots and a huge cigar hanging out of his mouth. Grinning like a Cheshire cat at the beauties dancing beside him, he played with Gusto (Gusto was his friend).

'How are ya honey?' shouted BLC, ruffling Wombats head.

'Why you sweet little honey child you', crooned Wombat as he tried to put his hand down BLCs panties and received a thump in the mouth for his efforts.

Donna (madsad), Stitch, Sharon (Andyedwards), Mandi and Bundy were running around giggling as George chased them round the saloon with a feather duster. Really, it was very naughty.

BANG! The doors of the saloon open and I said they would didn’t I?

Everybody ducks, Grayling hides behind the bar, silence.

For standing there in skin tight jeans, cowboy boots, tight purple shirt and hair slicked back into a pony tail, was Barry the Camp TRA man.

'Give me a beer!' Croaks Barry, hot dusty and tired after herding up the cattle. Walking like John Wayne (or as though he had shit himself), he swaggered to the nearest seat, clutching his beer.

Cracking the top off with his teeth, he glanced around the bar to see who was there. Spitting out his tooth, he nodded around to everyone.

Breathing a sigh of relief, they all stood up and carried on as though nothing happened.

'Hell no!' A voice came from outside, panic and shouting from the county jail. Shit, the Bad People had escaped.

'We will need to call Paul and Sweet Sue, yelled Wombat, still playing the piano and having a hand up BLCs top.

Just as he said it, a shadow cast over the Saloon window, a wide rimmed cowboy hat and a long coat, cowboy boots with 15 spurs on each heel. Standing next to him was a tall slim woman, wearing a lovely pair of Levi Jeans and a crop top and high heeled boots.

Paul and Sweet Sue had arrived to give instruction.

'Rumours have it that Brisben, Jim and Bixie, have escaped from the county jail.' Paul and Sweet Sue said together in calm voices, lighting pretend fags as they did spoke.

Everyone hung on to every word they said. They were after all, owners of this here town.

Paul added: 'This is a job for the girls. Dolly, Scissors, Princess, saddle the horses. The rest of the girls can wait here for instruction.'

The sounds of someone running upstairs, noisily running across the room, then all you could see was someone dressed as Christina Aguillera come flying out of the window.

Princess had never liked to mount a horse in the proper way, so she landed on the poor animals back, nearly blacking her eyes in the process with her bosoms.

'I’m ready!’ she shouted, her stallion nervously shuddering in anticipation - oh yes, and cos she nearly broke its back with the heavy landing.

'Scissors, where are you?' Demanded Sweet Sue.

Bet you can't guess where Scissors had been? She had been tying up JAJ and Marco and trying to spank them into submission. The poor boys, they couldn’t even hold up their pants.

'Coming!' Squeaked Scissors. Running out of the saloon, she vaulted on top of her horse and gathered her reins.

'Dolly!' Shouted the Sweet Sue (sweet thang),

'I’m here!’ Dolly comes flying out of the door and trips up on some coyote shit (well, my dog’s cos I don’t have a coyote).

'Give us a leg up man', demands Dolly to Paul.

Paul sighs in exasperation and helps Dolly up on to her horse.

'Ready girls?' Giggles Princess, kicking her horse straight into gallop, she disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Followed hotly on her hooves, Dolly and Scissors gallop off clutching their ropes to catch The Bad People with.


AFTER RIDING FOR A BIT...


'We're never gonna find em man', puffs Dolly, leaning over her horses neck for a rest.

'We so are, and I'm gonna whip Brisbens arse I am', sneered Princess standing high in her stirrups to get a better look.

Scissors bless her, had got out a mirror and was touching up her make up. Handing the mirror to Princess so she could check hers.

'Have you got anything for chapped thighs?' Asked Princess to Dolly and Scissors as she examined her sore nether regions.

'Did you say a 'chap between your thighs'?' giggled Dolly.

Scissors let out a dirty laugh at the joke.

'I think I can see something', Princess whispered.

Sure enough, hiding in a gorse bush, you could just see a sheet wavering in the wind. And if you listened very carefully, you could hear a voice flirting with itself.

‘Ooh, you are so handsome you little devil’ Came the unmistakable voice.

Kicking her horse to a canter, Princess spots Bixie hiding. Just as Bixie looks up in horror, he makes a run for it.

Like a lion escaped from the zoo, he ran like the clappers with Princess in hot pursuit.

Taking her rope, Princess threw it and got it quite nicely round Bixie’s waist.

'Oh yes!’ she cried punching the air.

Hooking the rope to her saddle, she trotted off with Bixie dragging behind her kicking up the mud and dust as he tried to keep up.

'Well done!' Shouted Scissors and Dolly in approval.

'While you are here, fancy a shag?' Bixie asked, smoothing down his hair.

‘Later’, Princess replies and wraps the rope tighter around her saddle.

'Now we gotta find Brisben and Jim', said Scissors
.
'You will have to go, I’ve got my hands full with Bixie', Princess replied, more than a little tired.

An hour later, Jim was found dressed in women’s panties hiding in the ladies toilet. You may well wonder what a ladies toilet was doing in the middle of nowhere, but when a girl’s gotta go, a girl’s gotta go.

Dolly dragged Jim home tied to her horse making sure that every now and again, he fell over and begged for mercy.

The real treat was for Scissors. As the other two girls made their way home with their prisoners, they had more or less given up on finding Brisben.

Scissors rode back and took a slow walk back on her own, whilst swigging from her hip flask which was full of cider.

Now her horse - Dobbin, had always had an eager eye. Glancing behind the back of a cactus, he turned round to eyeball Scissors.

'What's the matter Dobbin?' She asked him.

'He's here', Dobbin replied smugly and snorted his appreciation.

‘I have got me a trophy!’ Squealed Scissors.

So not content to tie Ben up and drag him, Scissors tied him up and hoisted him on to her horse.

As he was slung over the front of Dobbin, Scissors pulled down Bens trousers and whipped out her mini shaving kit and shaved off the hair from his testicles.

By the time they got back to the county jail, Ben was as bald as a coot and Scissors razor was blunt.

'Everyone, Scissors is back with Brisben!’ Yelled Fraser barely able to contain himself.

Half an hour later, the Ben was back in jail with his mates, where he belonged. Punishment was to clean the walls of the jail for one month with a toothbrush and for Jim to say ‘I love John Howard’ 15 times daily. Bixie fared little better, he had to say: ‘I do not like sex’ 15 times daily.

But don't be fooled, they are still Bad People.


SHOOT OUT IN THE SALOON

I said it happened every so often and I think that time has come.

Barry had decided that he had been good enough thank you and it was time that someone got shot with the GOP (gun of piss).

Using bullets is illegal in Hanger Lane town, so guns full of piss are used and they really are just as lethal, believe me.

You ask Wheezy and Fraser. They had a dual at dawn and got covered in the stuff, took ages to wash out and their trousers are still yellow and no ‘Stain Devil’ will get rid of it.

Anyway, it was a normal day in the ‘Fair Dinkum’ saloon, Wombat was playing the piano – although his choice of music left a lot to be desired, Queen and ‘We are the champions’. Still, Badge and Donna danced their socks off and Alan & Sam chucked tomatoes at Wombat in between wiggling their bottoms.

Bundy, Hevs and Scissors were playing a game of cards whilst sipping some beer, Princess was pole dancing down an imaginary pole to impress the DIMIA boy Duncan, who was busy shining his halo.

Suddenly, a familiar voice shouted: ‘I’m gonna blow your ass off you son of a bitch!’

‘Shit, that sounds like trouble’ said Hevs, chucking her cards on the table (Scissors had a quick look at them to see what her hand was).

Paul and Sweet Sue sauntered to the window and wiped the glass for a better look. There, stood in his orange cowboy boots, lumberjack shirt, great big cowboy hat and a cigar hanging out of his mouth, was Barry the Camp TRA man.

Standing opposite him wearing skin tight jeans, black cowboy boots, tight shirt, was George.

Both had loaded GOP (guns of piss) and both looked very very scary.

‘Fight!’ Shouted Scissors, having now cheated at cards, wanted in on the action.

‘I am going to get a front row seat’ Hev’s said spluttering on her beer and poking Mandi in excitement.

‘Ok Ok, calm it down everybody’ Paul the Administrator shouted to the increasingly noisy crowd.

You mustn’t argue with Administrators because they have been known to spank bottoms – especially if you pay them handsomely.

George and Barry had now marched to each end of the path. Gripping their GOP (guns of piss), their faces showing steely determination.

‘Ten steps forward and then we shoot’ Barry ordered. He loved these fights, he would have them twice a day if he could, except Bob wouldn’t let him and had rationed the whole thing.

‘I’m gonna soak you till you’re yellow!’ George sneered to Barry and then tugged his cowboy hat to the side in an effort to make him look hard.

‘Have they done it yet?’ Asked Duncan DIMIA without looking up. He was busy admiring his new Wagon Wheel collection.

Then all of a sudden, it all kicked off. No counting to ten, no nothing.

‘You cheated you son of a gun!’ Barry squealed to George.
‘Let go of my hair! George shouted as Barry held clumps of Georges hair.

‘Right that is enough!’ Sweet Sue ordered the two boys as they scuffled on the floor covered in piss. Slapping their bottoms hard as they went by.

******* priceless’ Said BLC roaring her head off at the scene.

‘Pair of girls’ Wombat sniggered, secretly jealous that it wasn’t him that Sweet Sue had slapped.

I know what you are thinking - would the boys’ ever be friends again? The answer is yes because just an hour later, they were playing strip poker in the saloon.

As I said, duals with GOP happened daily and it was the highlight for everyone.


THE HORSES GO ON STRIKE

The horses of Expats are usually such faithful creatures. Carry their masters around without question or complaint.

And these lucky lucky beasts get to have thighs you could crack nuts with on top of their backs.

So what was the problem?

They got pissed off that’s the problem.

Dobbin and Muffy, Scissors and Princess’s horses, had been in the barn talking over a bale of hay.

‘You know, we don’t get such a good deal’ Dobbin said to Muffy.

‘You’re not kidding either, Princess nearly breaks my back every time she lands on me and that’s not even mentioning thigh trouble’. Muffy replied as he sipped beer from his trough.

The other horses were snorting in agreement and pretty soon the whole barn was unsettled.

‘I vote we go on strike. No more rounding up of ‘The Bad People’, no more chasing people, no more anything’ Snowy the black stallion shouted – he was The ‘Paul’ of the horse world.


LATER ON….

‘JAJ, Wmoore, Tired with Twins, saddle the horses and ride to Gypsy Corner, tell the people from the Canada lounge that if they go on our land once more then they get the GOP treatment and it will be extra yellow’ Paul ordered.
‘Rumours have it that the Canada lounge are planning to invade Hanger Lane’ Stitch said matter-of-factly to Princess.

‘Oh what’s the shouting about now?’ Said an exasperated Paul stomping into the barn.

‘The horses are refusing to work. Tired with twins has just been bucked off and shit upon and Wmoores horse won’t even let him put his saddle on’ Replied JAJ still holding his horses bridle.

‘We are not going anywhere’ The horses shouted in unison and then as if to prove a point, lit up a fag when they knew well they shouldn’t smoke in the barn.

‘Look, this is not funny, we could be invaded any minute by the Canada Lounge and if that happens, then who knows, the Middle East lounge could be next’ Paul tried to reason with the stubborn horses.

Lifting his white tail up, Blackie the white stallion proceeded to shit great big lumps of horse turd in a show of defiance.

‘Can you smell it? Go on Rosie, smell it, look at the size of that!’ Blackie shouted in glee. He had always been very proud of his faeces and supplied most of the garden centres with manure to fertilise flowers and stuff.

‘That’s brilliant Blackie!’ Brit snorted with laughter, he always did appreciate Blackies talent for making smells.

‘Please don’t encourage him’ Sweet Sue replied loftily.

Actually, you should have smelt it, it really was something else.

‘How are we going to ride into Gypsy Corner to stop the invasion?’ JAJ asked, his eyes full of concern.

Soapy, Madsad, Anne4Terry, Fraser and the rest of the gang put their heads down. Bloody useless they were.

You know who saved the day? Yes it was Coyote Rema (my dog). The little grey whippet with a snout as sharp as her temper.

‘Look lads, I promise that if you come back to work, I shall get you extra portions of oats and you can have unlimited phone calls from your stables’ Rema pleaded.

Dobbin had always had a soft spot for Coyote Rema and would have happily shagged her if she had been a mare.

‘Ok, we will go back but if they slip up just once, then I will call them out again’ Dobbin said reluctantly.

‘You are such a brown nose Dobbin’ Blackie and Snowy sneered at Dobbin whilst making faces at him.

But take the piss the other horses might, they still enjoyed the privileges that Coyote Rema had negotiated for them.

And as for the phone calls, Snowy was the worst offender.

They didn’t say any more about the affair. They didn’t need to really, it had all been said. Done and dusted.


THE INVASION OF HANGER LANE


Hanger Lane town is a much sought after town by all the Expat forums. Many have tried to invade it and not many have succeeded. That is until the ‘Special People’ from Europe took them all by surprise and turned up in the Fair Dinkum saloon.

The gang were all having a quiet drink, Wombat was bashing the piano trying to make a tune, Princess was playing the mouth organ (don’t laugh because I really can), Barry and George were playing scrabble, Scissors was shaving Bix’s bottom and Bundy was arm wrestling Scott.

By the way, Aussies are very popular because they generally fit in quite well in the saloon and always do well in the beer contests and they have nice teeth.

Worzel was there, he is a nice chap if you meet him, wears his VB shirt and has a party trick of farting through a bottle and lighting it until it explodes. Although he hasn’t been given a horse yet until he learns to ride.

Soapy and Rooksie bang the doors of the Fair Dinkum saloon open, quite out of breath they grabbed Worzel and Bundy’s drinks and gulped them down.

Wiping the froth from her mouth, Rooksie manages to gasp out just what had scared her so much.

‘The Europeans have arrived!’ Rooksie panted to the staring crowd.

Silence. Everyone stopped what they were doing, no piano playing, no raucous laughter, just wide eyed shock at what they had just heard.

‘Liar liar pants on fire!’ Scissors shouted in disbelief.

‘Paul, what should we do?’ Princess asked, clutching her mouth organ.

Taking a deep breath and swigging his cider, Paul stared round to his friends, taking in their expressions.

‘Hell, they look to me for guidance. They need me. The future of this town depends on me being able to guide them’ Paul thought to himself.

‘Ok, we saddle our horses, fill up our hip flasks with wine, load the GOP (guns of piss) and we take em on’ Paul announced with some authority.

As everyone went to get on their horses, Worzel was going to ride pillion with Scissors on the condition she wouldn’t shave him, Princess ran upstairs so she could mount her horse in the usual way.

‘Oh shit!’ Her horse shrieked as Princess jumped out of the window in her chaps and landed heavily on the poor animal’s back.

‘Can I come too?’ Begged Coyote Rema. She hadn’t bitten anyone in ages and this was going to be such fun.

The little dog climbed into her Coyote suit and ran outside to wait with the others.

‘Knock em dead guys!’ The Bad People shouted from the County Jail. Which started Brisben off about visas, TRA and Skills Assessments.

They all galloped off leaving a dust cloud behind them. You could just hear Worzel shouting: ‘Oi, you’re bashing me nuts!’ as he bounced vigorously on Scissor’s stallion.

‘There they are’ Paul said quietly as he leaned over his horse to stretch his legs.

‘Aren’t they ugly’ Said Barry scornfully. His horse Martyn agreed with him.

‘It’s no crime to be ugly’ Wmoore said wisely to Barry and Martyn.

‘Yes, but those guys hit every stick on the ugly tree!’ Rooksie giggled.

‘We are not here to decide if people are ugly, they are in OUR town for God’s sake!’ Paul Administrator shouted to the shamed bunch.

‘What do you want?’ Alan demanded to the Europeans.

There were loads of them, not as many as The Lounge or Aussie forums, but enough to have climbed over the fences into Hanger Lane town and write ‘Bugger’ on the toilet walls.

‘We want to come in The Fair Dinkum saloon’ said Carmen the fat Spanish girl. Carmen was sitting on her donkey whose legs were almost buckling under her weight.

‘We want to ride your horses and taste your hospitality’ said MiMi, a tiny French girl that was chewing on a bag of snails she had bought from the Grocery Store.

‘Not bloody likely. Who the hell do you think you are?’ Sneered Princess, Jonahs Mummy and Barry together.

‘Ain’t riding my back’ Shouted Dobbin to fat Carmen.

‘We think you are shit anyway!’ Jean Paul Claude Van Damme growled at ‘Team Paul and Sweet Sue’.

‘That does it, no more Mr Nice Guy!’ JAJ yelled, his patience pushed to the limit. Then added with a nod in Pauls: ‘Shoot em down Paul’.

And that’s how it started. The GOP came out and the war began.

But before you get excited, the Europeans fight dirty. They don’t have GOP, they have GOS (guns of shit) and that, is a lethal weapon depending on what they have eaten the night before.

Worzel not having his own horse, had to fight on foot with Coyote Rema for protection.

Hevs and Princess were busy squirting fat Carmen and Mimi in the mouth with the GOP before they were shot. Kill or be killed.

‘What’s that on your face?’ Hevs asked Mimi.

Opening her mouth to protest, Hevs then shot Mimi square in the mouth with a freshly loaded GOP.

It is The Law of my world that once you have been shot with a GOP, you are out of the competition.

And much to Hevs delight, Mimi was well and truly OUT.

‘Right you horrible old cow with a face like paella, you are SO dead’ Princess sneered and then as fat Carmen went to shoot Princess, Coyote Rema dived in and bit her on the ankle. As Carmen screamed, Princess shot her and knocked her out of the fight.

John Howard had also been allowed to the fight, although too small to have a stallion, he had been given his own Shetland pony called Andrew.

Somewhat resembling a child dressed as a schoolboy, he saw his beloved Princess taking on Carmen and did the only thing he knew he could do to protect her. He bit her ankles.

Mind you, the Europeans put up a good fight, Alan, Duncan DIMIA and Barry got shot with some European turd and Flutter Scutter only just escaped the poo fight.

But before you guys think that it all ended in racist bitterness, think again. Because the Hanger Lane town gang, always shake hands after a fight and always meet for a drink on neutral territory for a pint.

Fights on our patch never last for long. But there will always be ‘Bad People’.


WOMBAT CHANGES HIS WAYS


No, I am not lying and it happened quite suddenly too.

Wombat was a miserable git and was taken to bashing the POMS when the need suited him.

Now he had gone too far when he ate Professional Princess’s skills assessment and vomited it up in her knicker drawer.

He was due to appear in a court of law and be judged by The People.

Giving the A Team the thumbs up signal, Wombat was lead away by Fraser and Barry in a pair of pink furry handcuffs – they were Georges and he had kindly lent them for that occasion.

Sitting in the dock was Bordy wearing a wig like they do in court room dramas. Bordy didn’t have to wear one mind you, but it looked good. And besides the girls found it such a turn on, Princess and Rooksie had offered to pay him to wear it afterwards.

‘Wombat, you have been charged with winding people up and talking too much about POMS, how do you plead?’ Bordy ordered.

Putting his head down, Wombat nervously picked the scabs off his knees.

‘He will plead ‘not guilty’ just for the fight’ Scissors said to JAJ who nodded.

Just as Wombat was about to give his plea, a sound of rustling stopped him in his tracks.

Jonahs Mummy and Les Patterson was busy handing round Court Programmes and bags of sweets and popcorn to make the process more enjoyable.

‘Claire, do you mind?’ Bordy said, his face flushed because his moment of power ruined.

‘Sorry Bordy, let me just hand out the drinks’ Jonahs Mummy replied apologetically.

After that, Wombat looked up to give his plea and what he said, shocked the knickers off everyone.

‘I plead guilty. Guilty for everything, for winding people up, being inflammatory – everything. I know I have done wrong’ Wombat stammered to a stunned court room.

‘It’s just I am so passionate about what I believe in and cannot understand why others don’t see my point of view’ Wombat added.

By now, everyone had dumped the soft drinks and had started on hip flasks of wine.

‘I know now to appreciate everyone’s opinion and that it may not be my opinion’ Wombat finished his speech.

‘Well, it is going to take some time to build bridges, but you are free to go’ Bordy concluded to a subdued Wombat.

Even the horses outside were shocked.
‘Bugger me!’ Dobbin said as he relayed the story to his friends.

‘No thanks, I don’t do that’ replied Blackie the white stallion.

Anyway, Wombat was as true to his word and it was several days before he was back in jail again for being naughty. He was caught flashing his bottom in the Canada Lounge and had offended Celine Dion.

Don’t say anything though, Princess and BLC paid him handsomely to do that and Wombat thought it was worth it.

Wombat was a bit naughty mind you, he was now having regular fights with himself and Duncan DIMIA had to separate him from himself, sometimes it took 2 people.


THE FAIR DINKUM SALOON


It was the end of an eventful week in Hanger Lane town.

There had been lots of duals at dawn with GOP involved, lots of shoot outs with people falling down dead and getting up again.

Horses had gone on strike and showed us just how big a turd they could shit if they had to. In fact, one poo was so enormous, it fuelled poor countries for years and the soil had never been so fertile.

We have seen excellent displays of horsemanship and the superb relationship between beast and man.

But nothing beats a drink in the saloon with your mates.

Wombat was playing the piano, Mandi, Bundy, Possoms, Rooksie, Anne4Terry, Tired with Twins, Stitch and the other girls all clapped around him.

Princess was on the mouth organ (not John Howards) and was playing Western songs. Scissors was sitting on Graylings knee smoothing his head.

Hevs was playing snooker with Worzel and Coxfamuk were cheering at nothing in particular.

Barry, John Howard, George, JAJ, Brisben, Fraser, Jim, Bordy, A Team, Paul, Sweet Sue, Wmoore, Marco, Badge, Wheezy, Rich & Angie, Anya and Donna were all doing line dancing down the centre of the pub.

The atmosphere was great. Laughing, clinking of glasses and bottles, music, everything to make for a good night out.

And Soapy gave one last flash of white bottom.


In the stables, the horses sat watching porn videos about mares that do nothing but shag and how a stallion is so well hung that mares fight to be with him.

They too were drinking cider and eating nuts, even Coyote Rema was having fun with them.

So as I just take one more glance in the Fair Dinkum Saloon, they all look round and wave at me.

‘Sam are you coming in? I have a drink lined up for you!’ George yells with a grin on his face.

But I don’t go in because it will mean meeting my alter ego Professional Princess.

And that my dears, will never do. The two must remain separate.

I stare at the free spirited girl, who is everything I would like to be in appearance. Totally perfect.

Although Princess’s behaviour is appalling sometimes because it can be so rude, I really wouldn’t change her.

So without anybody noticing, I slink out of the saloon and close the door so the music and laughter is muffled.

For I can always watch from the outside…..


The End.__________________


This story is meant for fun and not intended to offend or upset anyone.

Professional Princess

Forgot to say, its a similar story I put in the lounge, but Ive changed it a bit and put the Aussie lot on it instead.

Rooksie

*tears*

brilliant!!!

Professional Princess

I hope the others like it.

Bordy

If the TRA men read these threads you will be turned down for entry to Aus on grounds of insanity Sam.

Professional Princess

If they do that, I shall make them the 'Outlaws' of the story.

Anyway, the only TRA person i have in here, is Barry and hes pretend so there.

(Lovingly pats an imaginary Barry on his knee)

Brisben

Great Stuff PP, However I am a little dissapointed that I only could satify 5 Ladies...

Bordy

Your still mad but the forum would be a poorer place without you.

Brisben

I 100% agree Bordy... The princess of the BE Website... JIM2004 being the queen

marco121068

Another good one Sam.

Was I still wearing the leather catsuit while Scissors tried spanking me to submission?

Professional Princess

But you're in Jail Ben, with the Bad People.

Im off to look for cowboy pictures and im going to have fun in photoshop.

Professional Princess

Yee Haa

Im a cowgirl!

Brisben

Can I exchange sexual favours for an early parole

I mean if I can satisfy 5 women. then surely I am worthy

Anyway I am a good boy

madsad

Lol!!! at last iam portrayed as an angel !!

Donna.

Professional Princess

Puts beer down on the bar and fingers gun in holster.

you wanna exhange sexual favours for early parole? You gotta get through me first.

(laughing my head off at my own words here, must go to the loo as I shall pee my pants)