War for the Cowboy Throne (TWS?)

“Reckon he ain’t gonna last much longer. Feller was lookin’ paler than Death hisself, and near-abouts as skinny.”

“So where’s that leave us? King Johnny never chose his heir.”

“Leaves us without a Cowboy King. Good lord help us all.”

WAR FOR THE COWBOY THRONE

You are the seventh child of the ailing King Johnny, a member of the royal family of the Cowboy Kingdom of Mesquite. All your life, you have been protected and groomed, placed in the protective custody of a few hard-bitten, tobacco-chewing cusses as mean as rattlesnake bites. Your father doted on you, to the anger and jealousy of some of your siblings; you have taken the lessons he taught you about “doin’ right by folk” and “good ol’ fashioned problem solvin’” to heart. Your father is dying, too weak and feverish to name a rightful heir. The doctors are speaking less frequently of his recovery, and more frequently of making the time he has left more comfortable. Soon, you will be without a father.

So, who are you, O prince or princess of cowboys?

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SpoilerUnofficial entry! This is mainly for fun, after rolling Western and Political for myself. It won't be included in the official judging, but hey, may as well, right?

Oh you are a princess for sure.

You even have a princess horse: twilight sparkle! Such a princessy name for a horse it is probably magical and not at all a regular horse that does all those weird things normal horses do.

Also your name is Jennifer Anniston.



Edit: wait maybe I got the name of the girl and the horse confused?

> Ellen Kleberg

Princess Missy Chase. That's who you are. You've even got a tiara made of blue jeans to prove it. And a cattle brand, the one that belonged to your mum. Best brander in the country, the old Queen.

Princess Missy Chase.

You're darn tootin'! Missy's the name, and proud of it! 16 years old, measurements none of your dang business, seventh child of Cowboy King Johnny. You are currently in your room, a comfy little number down near the stables. Your walls are papered with drawings and articles from the newspaper, and you've built yourself (with a bit of help) a small bookshelf, to house some of your favorites. Tales of derring-do and true grit determination, mostly. A gal is allowed her peculiarities. Even a princess.

You are just about ready to get out and start in on your self-assigned chores, when you hear a knock at the door. “Li’l Miss!” Oh, now who in botheration could be pesterin’ you at this hour? You open the door, ready to give them a piece of your mind, and... oh, it's Ol' Willie. Pa's faithful retainer.

Missy: "What, what is it?"

Willie: "It's your daddy, girl! Wants to talk only to you, now get a move on!"

You look down at yourself. Dressed in work overalls, still barefoot. Didn't reckon you'd need to look presentable anytime soon. What do you do? Is there anything you should take with you?

>You might want to bring a weapon. Just in case one of your siblings is a little too ambitious.

A thin little book. You never know.

Grab your trusty six-shooter

Don't forget to feed your pet 'DILLO before you go!

Also put on some BOOTS girl! You're going before the G'DAMN COWBOY KING.


Also probably a hat but I'm not suggesting it because I assume you are already wearing one BECAUSE YOU ARE A COWBOY PRINCESS.

Grab yer lassoo and that dang ol' personalised brand o' yours, li'l lady.

or mebbe y'horse. Saddle up!

Don't forget a pencil. You'd be surprised at how useful a good, sharp PENCIL is.