Chapter 1

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, boys,” cackled Old Man Edmund ‘Smiley’ Lyons, his eyes gleaming with a mischief that hadn’t dimmed with age. His gnarled fingers played a tune on the countertop of his saloon, the wood sticky with spilled whiskey and the echoes of a thousand tall tales. The room had smoke, the air tense with the anticipation of a secret shared too loudly.

Mrs. Mona ‘The Maverick’ McCallister sauntered in, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette dangling from her lips. She was the talk of the town, a beauty with a mean left hook and an even meaner right. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her bare shoulders, and the room hushed as she passed. The men’s gazes followed her, a mix of awe and hunger in their eyes. Mona was the star of the show, the one everyone came to see, the one they whispered about in the shadows.

Her opponent, a newcomer named ‘Bronco Betty’, was a mystery wrapped in a leather corset. Tall, with a figure that could make a statue jealous, she strutted in with the confidence of a seasoned gunslinger. Her piercing blue eyes scanned the room, daring anyone to challenge her. The tension in the air thickened, palpable as the sweat on their brows, as the two women locked eyes across the crowded saloon.

The rules were simple: no clothes, no weapons, no holds barred, and the first one to tap out lost. The prize? A hefty sum of gold coins and the title of the Wild West’s Nude Catfighting Queen. The crowd roared in approval, a cacophony of cheers, whistles, and the clinking of coins changing hands. The bar was packed to the brim, the stench of sweat and desperation mingling with the sweet scent of money.

Mona and Betty stripped their clothes and stepped into the makeshift ring, a circle of sawdust and hay drawn on the floor. The saloon’s usual decorations had been stripped away, leaving only a single lantern swinging overhead, casting eerie shadows across their bare skin. The crowd leaned in, their anticipation a living, breathing entity. The fighters’ breaths were shallow, their eyes locked in a silent challenge.

The match began with a tension-filled silence, broken only by the rustle of fabric and the sound of skin brushing against the dusty floorboards. Mona made the first move, a swift kick aimed at Betty’s midsection, but Betty was quick, her reflexes honed from a life on the run. She dodged, and the crowd gasped, their eyes widening at the sight of the two naked figures moving with the grace and ferocity of wild animals.

Mona’s skin glistened with sweat, her muscles rippling as she pounced, her long legs wrapping around Betty’s neck. Betty, unfazed, used her opponent’s momentum to toss her aside, sending Mona’s fiery hair flying. The impact was loud, and a cloud of dust rose around them, obscuring the view for a moment before settling to reveal the two women on the ground, panting and glaring at each other.