“The test of a man isn’t what you think he’ll do. It’s what he actually does.”

― Robert A. Heinlein, The Eye in The Sky

Sometime in the near future

A light snow fell softly on the quiet mountain town of Breckinridge, Utah, it was early afternoon and the streets were empty. Sheriff’s officer Bobby “Bob-O” Boberson coasted his patrol car down Main Street, cruising by the pizza joints, restaurants, bars, massage parlors, and souvenir shops. He turned left up Ski Hill Road passing The Mangy Moose, the town’s oldest watering hole. The absentee owners of the bar had long given up on keeping up with the Joneses, ‘Mangy’ was now an accurate descriptor of the building itself as well as its equine namesake. Inside was dark wood paneling and torn, stained Naugahyde booths, if not for the televisions one could be convinced it was still the 1980s. Most of the giant flat screens were tuned to sporting events or the local weather forecast, one was set to the country western music channel, and unfortunately, this was the one with the sound on.

As Willie Nelson sang about Ira Hayes, Dick Slashballs sat at the bar and stared languidly at a bowl of beer nuts and the swizzle sticks in the black plastic napkin caddy in front of him. Other than a surly barman, he had the place to himself. It was late February and the ski town was deserted. The Ski bums, bunnies, and tourists wouldn’t be back until next season, but Dick didn’t miss them. After all, wallowing in self-pity is best done in solitude. Dick ordered another Old Fashioned and watched as the bartender filled a Boston shaker with booze, bitters, and ice. As the Barman gave his drink a good shake Dick’s thoughts once more turned to the cause of his misery.

How in the hell did it happen? Dick thought for the thousandth time. Oh, he knew the narrative – The Republicans and the Democrats, following their extreme bases farther to the right and the left, kept nominating crazier and crazier candidates until the people finally had enough and elected a Libertarian. BullllShiiiit, Dick had been involved in enough coups to know that’s not the way things work, especially considering how fast it all happened. The people really liked President Cohen and in the midterms more Libertarians were elected at all levels of government than what had seemed statistically possible. When he won his re-election President Cohen had the backing of both sides of Congress. Then in a whirlwind of retirements, scandals, and deaths, he had the support of The Supreme Court. When his Vice President won the next presidential election in the biggest landslide in American history the libertarian takeover of the country was complete.

That’s when the shit really hit the fan, for Slashballs and his ilk anyway. The Libertarians gutted the federal government. There was no longer an FBI, DOJ, CIA, NSA, DOD, Homeland Security – all the agencies and institutions that kept America safe, or at least kept Dick employed, were gone. He hadn’t worked in years and the money he’d stashed away over his career was almost depleted. It wouldn’t be so bad, but his last operation had gone pear-shaped and he had been forced to use a big chunk of his reserves just to stay alive. If things don’t turn around soon he’ll have to sell his beloved 1974 Firebird esprit, finished in ‘copper mist’ just like the one Steve McQueen drove in The French Connection. He might find some work for a foreign government or two but that was a young man’s game, and Dick was old and tired and rusty. He hadn’t been to a gun range in months and he was letting his field craft slip. He didn’t even notice when a tall, barrel-chested, middle age man entered through the bar’s side door and sat on a barstool two seats to Dick’s left.

Instead, Dick was studying a flyer taped up behind the bar

RODEO!

FRIDAYS & SATURDAYS

MESA COUNTY FAIRGROUNDS

5:OO PM

Adults 25$ children under 6 free

Dick was wondering if they might be hiring when the bartender placed a fresh drink in front of him, with a wink and a cute little smile on her face.

“I didn’t order that.” Dick said

“It’s on me Slashballs” Came a familiar voice

Dick spun around, his hand reaching into his jacket where his Glock 19 would have been if he’d bothered to holster the revolver when he had left his room that morning, You really have lost it, he thought.

“Relax, If I wanted you dead I wouldn’t do it here. I would have done it last night when you were passed out in your easy chair, or the night before when you were staggering home from the strip club, or the night before that when you were relieving yourself against the dumpster behind the Besta Fasta Pizzeria, or the night before that when….” Said the man to his right.

“Okay, okay, I get it. What do you want, and why are you tailing me, Mercer?” Dick Said, “How’d you even find me?”

Mercer laughed and said. “Tailing? That implies some stealth was involved. I could have been wearing a flashing neon sign and you wouldn’t have noticed me. As for finding you, let’s just say you’ve been using the grumpy old Mr. Weston cover a bit too long, You’ve let yourself go. It’s sad, pathetic actually”

“Meh, What’s the point? it’s all over for guys like us now anyway. Fucking Libertarians.” Dick said “And you still haven’t said what it is you want.”

“I have a job for you if you’re interested,” Mercer said

“Why me, if I’m so pathetic?” Dick Said

“Trust me I damn near walked away after seeing the sorry state you’re in, but it’s an easy job and to be perfectly honest you’re one of the last of us still hanging around. Bill ‘The Foot’ is down in Belize, Wilson went back to BF, The Fritzes are in Mongolia, and Freddie’s dead.” Mercer said

“What about Dingo, isn’t he still in Texas?” Dick said

“Yeah, but believe it or not he’s in worse shape than you. Hell, he got himself a job as a rodeo clown for Christ’s sake” Mercer Said “Anyway it’s your job if you want it.”

Dick listened as Mercer outlined the operation. “I have a client that isn’t happy with the current authorities he’s living under, and the powers that be are so ensconced that he can’t make inroads in any strictly legal ways, so he wants us to help get him and a few puppets that he can control into the seats of power…”

“Wait, wait. That doesn’t sound so easy, and I’m too old to go running around some shithole country anyhow” Dick said

“There’s no need for that. The job’s right here in the good old US of A” Mercer Said

“But the Libertarians have…” Dick Said

“Tut, tut. Slashballs, sure they’ve done their best to strip all power from the states and federal government but one thing that libertarians respect is the freedom of association.” Mercer said

Dick, starting to get a little suspicious, asked “What exactly does your client want to do?”

“He wants to grow vegetables in his front yard.” Mercer Said

“You mean…” Dick questioned

“Yup, We’re going to destabilize an HOA” Mercer proclaimed.