! written by u/2pacisalive95 on 2020-06-22

I was up in the hills one night, somewhere not too far from Valentine and close to the river. I didn't have too much with me, other than one very, very important map. A treasure map that I'd paid my life savings for. Risky, I know. But, I had spent my whole life treasure hunting and was in my older years. I was counting on finding these rumored gold bars and then finally retiring. What I hadn't been counting on was an unexpected visit from a complete stranger. A stranger who would ruin my life. There I was, standing out there near a cliff edge, just trying to get a good view and some idea of where to head next. I was mumbling to myself when I suddenly heard a cough behind me. I damn near shit myself. I turned around and saw a strange man holding a lantern. Strangely, none of his clothes matched at all. I'm no fashion expert myself, but that man looked like he'd been dressed by a clown. Just, random colors everywhere. Even had a goofy bowler hat and a thin vaudeville mustache. He obviously hadn't bathed in days. He smelled like a swamp. Anyway, that's not really important. When I turned around, he didn't react at all. Just kept staring at me, like he was amused or something. I... honestly, I had no idea how long he'd been standing there. He looked ghostly pale, with bloodshot eyes. If someone had told me he was some kind of vampire, I would have believed it. I nervously held my map behind my back, but I was sure he'd already seen it. I figured I'd end up having to cut him a deal. Let him search with me and get some of the gold. But I also realized he might kill me on the spot and take the map. If only I'd had a gun, or really anything useful, but I'd rushed off on that trip and hadn't expected to see anyone in the night. For a moment we both just stared at eachother. For Christ's sake, it felt like minutes went by. I was on edge, my heart racing. I could hardly find the words to say if I tried. But this stranger.. he looked, well, bored? Eventually, he put away the lantern and pulled out a bottle of fine gin. I almost felt relieved. Maybe this man just wanted to share a drink and talk. Then I watched him guzzle the entire drink in mere seconds. It was like he did it in one sip. He chucked the bottle on the ground. He didn't even stagger. No, he looked sober. Then he pulled out a bottle of whiskey. Chugged that. Then a bottle of rum. Chugged that, then coughed. Violently. He didn't say a word, but I was beginning to think this man was sick. Not just, well, mentally, but physically. The paleness, his wheezing cough.. I almost wanted to stop him when he pulled out another bottle of bourbon. It was painful to watch. He was definitely drunk by that point. It seemed like he really was struggling to stand, but was playing it off like all the drinking was no big deal. Maybe I could have just walked away when he started pulling out the candy bars. I guess I was worried he would shoot me if I turned my back. But, I also have to admit.. It was like a train wreck. I just couldn't look away. The way he coughed and choked, shoveling down chocolate and candies, dumping entire cans of baked beans and strawberries into his mouth. He looked like he would vomit. But he just couldn't stop his self-destructive rampage. And me, I was hypnotized. This was a spectacle. He wheezed hideously and I thought for a moment he might be done, until I watched him pull out the cigars. His after dinner routine, of course. They were very fine cigars, but he'd take one and have a single puff, then toss the entire rest of it away. Then he'd light another one and do the same thing. He used up all his cigars then wasted an entire pack of cigarettes in less than a minute. All the while he coughed up blood. The man sounded like he could drop dead any minute. I'll admit, I kind of hoped he would. Then I would have easily made my getaway. After a while, he just paused and looked at me again. Then I realized, he wasn't dying. He wasn't even intoxicated. He was now stone cold sober. Then, finally, he spoke, “Howdy, Pardner.” I stammered. Can barely remember what I said. Made up some dumb excuse, said I was just enjoying the view or something. He didn't even blink. Just said, “Give me that map.” I refused. It could get me killed, I knew that. But this treasure.. my whole life had been leading up to it. Or, that's what it felt like at the time. I guess the world had other plans. I tried to run away but the stranger pulled a lasso out of his ass and yanked me down. I don't know how he managed that, as stupid and deathly ill as he was. But before long he had my map, and I was face down in the dirt, my hands and legs tied. It wasn't long before he was off on his horse. I was luckily not too far from home, and eventually a friend of mine found me and got me untied and home safe. I would have been all too happy to just forget what had happened. Except, one night I was back in town and saw that same goddamn stranger. He still looked greasy as hell. Still barely clinging on to life. At the market, I watched him give a handful of gold bars to a merchant and get hundreds of dollars in return. That bastard managed to find the treasure. I couldn't believe it. Then, he went and bought more chocolate bars. Saw him enter a gun store and leave with his guns all gold-tinted. For all I knew he couldn't even fire the damn things. Part of me wanted to go and pick a fight with him, that's how angry I was. But before I could he knocked out some old lady and ran off with the cops after him. Anyway, fuck treasure hunting.