Sniff disarms Texas

As quick on the draw as she was, Texas wasn't fast enough here. The hammer came around in an arcing sweep, the head slamming into the sheriff's own weapon, and knocking it clean out of her hand. Before Texas had a chance to recover, Sniff followed up with a brutal body slam, her immense and bulky form knocking Texas to the dirt.

Moving to stand, Texas was suddenly halted as a large, dusty, sweat soaked foot slammed into her face, locking itself in place as it pinned her to the ground. "Not so fast, Sheriff." Sniff chuckled, placing the head of her hammer on Texas' chest, allowing its weight to pin the weasel in place. "I think you deserve a little time out for bringing a gun to a hammer fight. Not very honourable, that." Shifting her weight onto the foot currently planted in Texas' face, Sniff started to grind her reeking, sweaty sole over the pinned mustelid's features.

The smell was vile, a mix of musk, dust, oil, copper, and burnt fur, all mixed into one. A thick and heady scent that burned its way through Texas' nostrils and dried her throat. The weasel gagged, instinctively grabbing both ends of the foot to try and lift it from her face. The more Texas struggled however, the more weight Sniff applied to that foot, and the more her foot smeared over the weasel's features. After a few seconds, the foot would move, but it was of Sniff's accord rather than Texas'.

Raising her foot, Sniff pressed her toes to Texas' cheek, forcing the weasel to look towards the wrecking ball she'd previously dodged. With a slow, mechanical clanking, the chain attached to the ball was slowly pulling taut, and the destructive sphere started to slowly rise from the indent it had created. "You see that, Sheriff?" Sniff taunted. "That, is coming for you. Seven thousand pounds of forged steel, dropping at terminal velocity, right onto your stupid little face." It was amazing how these stupid hyenas became a wealth of knowledge when it came to anything mechanical, yet couldn't work out how to tie a shoe lace between them.

As the ball slowly ascended, Sniff leaned on the handle of her hammer, putting both hands over the end of the grip, and starting to lean. As her weight added to that of the already heavy sledge, Texas gasped for air, her chest being compressed beneath the crushing weight of her opponent and their weapon, leaving her unable to escape.

"Want to hear a joke whilst we wait? What has a foot in its face, and is about to be a pancake?" The punchline, whilst predictable, was delivered in the form of Sniff planting her foot in Texas' face once more, starting to smear more sweat and grime into the weasel's fur. When Texas failed to laugh at the awful joke, Sniff gripped her hammer, raising it a few inches, before slamming it back down into Texas' chest. "You know, it's rude not to laugh at someone else's joke."

With a loud clunk, the wrecking ball reached its maximum elevation, starting to slowly reel around as Scratch swung it into position. It was a slow, arduous move, leaving Texas time to save herself... Maybe. Realising that moving Sniff wasn't going to happen, Texas started to reach for her gun, her fingers grazing over the edge of the grip, but failing to find purchase.

"Ah, ah, aaaah." Sniff taunted as she stepped over to kick the gun further away. Looking up to the looming wrecking ball, she allowed a cruel grin to twist over her face. “You see that, Sheriff? I’d say that wrecking ball has your name on it, but pretty soon, it’ll have your everything on it. Your dumb face, your stupid hat, your irritating accent. All of you, will be plastered across all of that, unless you can move this hammer.” Gripping the weapon with both hands, Sniff **** the weapon firmly into the weasel’s chest once more. “Of course, that means you have to overpower me.”