Claude’s Journal: 4/2/1901

Cy’s stupid, smiling face

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There is order in PleasureTown. That is for sure. People seem to be minding themselves better than they ever had before, now that old Sheriff Deutronomy is around. Frankly, it’s taken a lot of fun out of the whole thing for me. Fewer fights, fewer stumbling drunks. Looks like Cyrus got his way after all. Bet he’s having himself a big ole smile in that library right now thinking he sure showed me, he sure showed old wild and crazy Claude.

But here’s the thing. I’ve never seen our town more miserable. Sure, violence has subsided. There hasn’t been a murder or missing person reported in weeks. But the people aren’t on their best behavior out of respect. They’re minding themselves out of fear. I see it in their eyes as old Ron walks by, those damn fangs glistening in the sun. What kind of man caps his teeth with hound fangs? He likes the fear. I can tell, as he grins that shit-eating grin, brandishing that blade and that gun in his belt.

I admit, I didn’t know Deuteronomy all that well. We had a few run-ins back in New Orleans. Caught me stealing from a casino once and threatened to take my fingers as punishment. But I guess he realized I might be better used as an ally, an informer who could help him clean up the French Quarter. And so I began squealing to him about all the going-ons of the other outlaws. Served me well as it whittled down my competition.

I guess I figured old Cy would meet Deuteronomy and realize the mistake he made in arguing for law and order, that the people of PleasureTown could police themselves. Be better than putting that responsibility in the hands of a maniac like old Ron. But I was wrong. Cy hasn’t said a word. Like I said, he’s probably just smiling that big ole smile.

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