There's gotta be another way!

It sure was an idea, trying to surprise Brass, but getting anywhere near that ass, though? That just seemed like a fancy way of committing suicide.

Texas weighed her options. Sure, she could try for a stealthy approach, but what would that leave her if she was caught? She certainly couldn’t try taking Brass on in any direct capacity, duel or no. But there had to be a way! Every man had his weakness, and Texas just had to find it before--

“UUURRRP! Ey barmaid, why’s my glass empty?” Brass roared, slamming his mug on the counter so hard that it was a surprise he didn’t shatter it.

Annabelle, the proud owner of the Crushed Weasel, rushed to Black Brass with a fresh mug of froth. She seemed oddly complacent in the fact that her bar was being dominated by the oppressive bull. In fact, the distracted, dreamy look in her eyes gave away just how thrilled she was to be servicing the macho longhorn. Must’ve been a cow thing, because she was about the only lady in the bar not nauseated by the masculine musk rolling off of him.

“Here ya go fresh from the tap, just lemme know if ya need anything else ya big hunk of man~” She said, fluttering her eyelashes his way.

“Yeah, I need a fartsponge that can last at least a whole round, dammit!” Brass growled, without so much as looking up from his drink, “I thought you ran a brothel here, not a daycare!”

“Er, well, actually the brothel’s down the street, these girls are just--” Annabelle shook her head, “Oh nevermind! Prudence! Get your damn face in there or you’re fired!”

As another unfortunate dancer girl submitted herself to Brass’s ass, Texas found herself with a plan of her own! It was just about as risky as planting her lips on his rim, but it had a much better chance of success. Brass seemed to be content with swigging whatever swill was put in front of him, and while it was hardly a noble or honorable way to go about busting a baddie, Texas could certainly use that against him! Especially with Annabelle so utterly distracted by his “rugged charms”.

While Annabelle fawned over him from afar, Texas snuck up behind the bar and found just what she needed: some premium booze stuffed into a far corner beneath the sink. Well “premium” was subjective, given that the stuff looked like it was corked up in an old detergent bottle and had a makeshift label that claimed it was from Smiling Jack’s Private Distillery (which Texas wasn’t even aware existed, she’d have to bust that bunny for bootlegging when this was over) but one whiff of it nearly knocked the boots off Texas. It was perfect! In fact, she quickly hatched a plan to kill two birds with one stone.

“Hey Annie,” Texas whispered, “This rag smell bad to you?”

Annabelle snapped out of her daydreaming the minute she heard Texas’s awful voice. She spun around and was about to clap the weasel’s head between her meaty palms before Texas stuffed a rag soaked in that moonshine right into her face. Annabelle snorted in surprise, taking in a lungful of booze fumes, and the stuff went straight to her noggin. Texas quickly dipped to the side to avoid being pancaked under the comatose cow. It was all working too well! Now she just needed a disguise…

“HEY!” Brass roared, “What did I say about my glass bein-”

Before he could even finish, a small highball glass slid out in front of him. The glass was filthy, but the stuff in it was clear as crystal. One might’ve thought he was being served a glass of room temperature water, if not for the heady fumes rolling off of it. Smelled like you could light a torch with it, and Brass was intrigued. He looked up from the counter to see a small blonde weasel in a cocktail dress where that massive heifer had been before.

“Here ya are, sir!” Texas said, trying her best to pitch up her voice to sound like a bubby bimbo, “This one’s a gift from an admirer. Premium stuff, on the house!”

Brass curled his lip and sniffed at the glass. He shot the weasel a quick glare before tipping the glass down his gullet in one slick swallow. His massive frame wobbled like jello for a quick second and he slammed the glass back on the counter so hard the entire bar shook. Texas could swear she saw smoke plume out of his massive nostrils as he exhaled hard and slowly opened his eyes. His teeth unclenched and he grumbled out,

“Didn’t think they made anything this good in a little sissy town like this. Gimme another.”

“O-oh of course!” Texas said, “I’m sure your admirer wouldn’t mind treating you to a refill.”

She didn’t even bother replacing the glass, instead glugging out another portion straight into the one in his hand. She’d barely finished pouring before he shot it back again, slugging the entire highball like it was a shot. He slammed the glass down again, exhaling a stinking cloud that could’ve peeled the paint off a train car. Texas spotted a single tear forming right up against his snout as he snorted.

“If I’da known… hic! If I’da known they had somethin’ like THIS in stock, woulda skipped the pisswater.” He coughed into one fist, “Hoo boy, that damn cow was holdin’ out on me! I think I’m gonna need another one of them…”

Texas was cautiously watching Brass the whole time, and much to her amazement it was actually working! His knotted muscles started to unclench and his ferocious eyes glazed over. She could see him start to subtly wobble back and forth in his chair, his massive body looking like a strong breeze could blow him over. This was her shot. She could pull a gun on him and he’d probably throw himself ass over teakettle trying to fight back.

Or maybe just one more drink to make SURE he was down for the count.