Worser Than Betterer

Who: Trisees
Where: Better than Life
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Trisees, out of breath stopped and spun on his heels. He stared,
breathless at the empty space behind him. The fog had cleared and
looking around him didn't instill any confidence in his already
terrified frame.
"Must escape bard, must escape bitch," he said to himself under
hurried breaths.
Trisees ran, the fog evaporating and a scene around him morphing
into place. He groaned as large clumps of sand appeared under foot.
This was not beach sand though, it was desert sand. Hard bitten
tough sand that's seen a million cacti and enough horse hoofs to last
it a lifetime.
As the sand appeared so did a building, and then another, and
another, untill finally h was standing in a town.
"Stupid nightmares," he muttered, standing in the middle of the OK
Coral.
---
Trisees walked hesitantly along the dusty road, being watched by old
cowboys with itchy trigger fingers. He nodded over to a particulary
large looking one.
"Howdy," he said.
The big cowboy said nothing, but instead pulled the hammer back on
is piece. Trisees raised an eyebrow and hurried along quicker. He
quickly stepped inside an open bar, hoping he'd be safe in there till
he found Sara or Keto.
Looking over the saloon swing doors, he noticed that as soon as he was
out of sight, the western town seemed to forget abut him even being
there. Outside seemed more jolly now.
He turned on his heel.
Pointed at him were about fifty guns, the patrons of the bar, and
even the barman, all glaring at him.
"You's don't belong here, boy," said one of the cowboys.
"You've only just figured it out?" asked Trisees. He rolled his
eyes. 'They have guns, moron, insulting and upsetting them is not
perhaps the wisest of ideas,' he told himself.
"I mean, no I don't."
"You's looks like you belong on the stage or in a circus!" one of
the others stated.
"The circus?" asked Trisees, angered at the assumption.
"Yeah, you's looks like some kinds of clown!"
"Clown?!" asked Trisees, his anger rising. He'd gagged his inner
voice as soon as he'd heard the word circus.
"Yeah, and clowns theys dance! Are yous gonna dance boy?"
"No. I'm not," stated Trisees flatly.
"I thinks you is." said a different cowboy, pulling the hammer on
his gun back.
"Make me," said Trisees, immediately wishing he hadn't.
At once, the cowboys began firing at the groundnear his feet.
Trisees jumped back and forth left and right, looking like he was
perfoming a little jig.
The cowboys laughed.
"Clap! we wants to see yous clap!" shouted the barman.
"How on earth am I supposed to clap with one arm?" asked shouted
Trisees. "Slap my chest?"
He slapped his chest and the view went black.
"That was unexpected," he said.
GAME OVER.
The large letter flashed twice in front of his eyes before a
colourless grid appeared below him.
Grabbing the visor on his head, he did his best to wrench it off
with one hand. It slipped off, but ot before jabbing him in the eye.
Growling, Trisees opened his eyes to see himself back on the blue
dwarf. Keto and Sara's bodies seemed to have gone.
"Real friendly, leave me in the machine," he said to no one, before
clutching his glove in his mouth and pulling it off his hand.
He spat it to the ground.
Trisees stalked out of the room and began looking for someone to
torment.