Window Bars

Dan lay in his cell, pondering his fate. A few hours ago, he and Tan were out and about, robbing banks, kidnapping damsels, and shooting guns. The usual fun. And wouldn’t you have it, the sheriff comes along and spoils it all by arresting him!

The judge was no better. Tried, convicted and sentenced in under ten minutes! What a drum trial! So unfair.

So, the question now was, “How do I get out?”. As usual, the workmanship of the window bars was shoddy. He tired pushing them and they budged a little, but didn’t break free.

So here he was.

“Psst!” a voice came from outside.

Dan looked up.

“Psst! Dan!”

He looked out the window. “Tan! What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was half way to Mexico, when I remembered I can’t cook, so I had to come back. How do we get you out?”

“You have dynamite right? What outlaw doesn’t have dynamite?”

“Of course I have dynamite!” He shuffled a bit, “hang on,” he shuffled some more. “You wouldn’t have matches would you?”

“Sure. The sheriff let me keep them.”

Tan scowled. He grabbed some rope, passed it through the window bars and tied it to the horses. He slapped them on the rump and they moved. The bars popped out like a cork.

Dan tried to climb out the window. “I’m Stuck!”

“I told you to lay off the tacos!” Tan grabbed the rope and tied Dan’s hands.

“Hang on!” He slapped the horses again, and Dan popped out like a cork. He landed with an oomph.

“I think you pulled my arms out of my sockets.”

“You’ll live.”

Dan stood up, and climbed on his horse. As they rode off, he turned around and gave the window the finger.