West of Neighbors

By Pebbles Vanasse and Grace Barritt

The crazy neighbors of Dirtwater, Patty, a root beer drunk, and Ali, obsessed with turnips, are on a mission to find Ali’s prized turnips. While discovering locations they meet new friends and rivals along the road, but with time running out will they be able to save the turnips and survive the desert or will it be too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665572194

Pebbles Vanasse

Pebbles Vanasse and Grace Barritt are small-town girls who love to write adventures that last a lifetime.

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© 2022 Pebbles Vanasse & Grace Barritt. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue

in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Published by AuthorHouse 10/19/2022

ISBN: 978-1-6655-7220-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-7221-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-7219-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022917962

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in

this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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Contents

Chapter 1     The Drunk

Chapter 2     The Neighbor

Chapter 3     The Turnip

Chapter 4     The Sacrifice

Chapter 5     Emperor’s New Crown

Chapter 6     Pie Must Die

Chapter 7     The Beanslinging Slasher

Chapter 8     To The Rescue

Chapter 9     Spill The Beans

Chapter 10   Homecoming and Going

Chapter 11   Turnip Redemption

Epilogue

About the Authors

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Chapter 1

The Drunk

It was just like any other day. The same old tumbleweeds blew across the plain of Dirtwater, and the same old wind carried sand that brushed across the wood of everyone’s houses. Pioneer Patty awoke in her run-down fine structured, wooden home on the brook. She was a crook, and on a regular day, she traveled to different towns in these here parts to snatch up anything she could get her young, drunken hands on. She never got arrested for stealing, though, because no one could find out who was doing it. Only the people in Dirtwater knew, but they never left the town nor did the sherf care.

Miss Patty Ann Mumflr Fumprdink MuckleLuck Jo was 20 years old, with an average height of 5’5". She spent her days whittling wood into functional weapons and selling them on the Blerk Merket while making her rounds to each town. But ever since Earl Dalton and Edwin Jones died when The Cows Came Home, nobody has been importing illegal wood to the desert. Not to mention, she was completely bone dry on meat, the primary financial system of the Old West. Times were pretty tough here in 1895 so Patty, like the pioneer that she is, got out of bed wearing the finest clothes the town had ever seen (according to her): a big ol’ paper bag weathered and worn that was long enough to reach her knees. Luckily, she has a leather belt with a peculiar large belt buckle of a horseshoe around her waist to keep the ol’ paper bag from ripping in half. The only real clothing she wears is the undergarments she sewed herself. She carries her worn-out leather gun holster clamped on the side of her belt because she ain’t no snake oiler if she didn’t carry a gun. She hasn’t actually used it yet or even knows if it even works since it’s rusted inside-out, but she’s still a snake oiler nonetheless.

Patty decided today was the day she would hit up the saloon in the middle of town. She was really cravin’ one of them root beers. She loves root beer so dang much that a few years back, before the stock merket collapsed, she said she gonna buy herself all them cases of root beer, and that’s exactly what Patty did.

Now I know what you thinkin’: Patty Ann Mumflr Fumprdink MuckleLuck Jo is a no-good drunk. But listen here, Patty ain’t no ordinary regular at the saloon. No ma’am, she is drunk off root beer. Root. Beer. Y’all know what root beer is, right? Here’s the definition: a frothy drink made from an extract of the roots and bark of certain plants. Non-alcoholic. That’s right, Miss Patty is drunk on root beer, and has been ever since she was about nine. Always will be, I say. But I’m sure you’re thinkin’ this too: How can that be? Well to put it plainly, she drank that much root beer. Ain’t nobody loves root beer more than crookish ol’ Pioneer Patty.

Chapter 2

The Neighbor

Unlike Patty, it was not just like any other day for Miss Geraldine Lee Jolene Fiddleford McGregor. No sir, it surely was not. One thing you should know is that mean ol’ Miss Geraldine- though she is not old at all, only 18 years young and a shortie (not to mention a little chubby)- was one picky but also a precise lady who would fight anyone who dared try and steal her beloved turnips. Yes sir, Miss Geraldine Lee Jolene Fiddleford McGregor was 100% completely and eternally devoted to that garden of hers. And not but a year ago, 1894 to be exact, her no-good drunk neighbor, Miss Patty Ann Mumflr Fumprdink MuckleLuck Jo, came in the middle of the night and stole but one mere turnip.

How did Miss Geraldine know this? Why, Patty Ann left one of her lousy root beer bottles in place of the turnip’s spot in the dirt. Actually, she left a whole darn bouquet of them drunken things. And what did Miss Geraldine do you might ask? She stomped right up to Patty Ann’s door at the crack of dawn and darn near broke it down off her humble home.

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"Patty Ann Mumflr Fumprdink MuckleLuck Jo! Give me back my gosh darn turnip because I know you done did what I know you done did, and that’s takin’ my gosh darn turnip. Give it here or I’m callin’ Sherf Smurf Keller the minute I get back to my shack- I mean home!"

Nah, Patty said on the other side of the door and hiccuped, I did nothing of the sort, Miss Geraldine Lee Jolene Fiddleford McGregor. Patty knew she was in trouble, but she was just too drunk to think straight and to... to do what again?

"That is it, Miss Geraldine tried knockin’ down her door with her bare, dirt-covered fist. Let me in so I can use your telephone to call the Sherf and let him know you’s a criminal!"

I’d like to help you in this dear situation, she hiccuped, but uh, I don’t have one of them newfangled things you’re lookin’ for. Patty took another swig of her good ol’ drunken root beer.

Miss Geraldine growled, "Of course you don’t, you uncultured swine!"

Well if you’d stop tryin’ to break down my humble-bumble home, she hiccuped again, I’d get you one of them telephones you speakin’ of, she said as she finished another bottle of root beer.

"Uh huh, and with what meat? Last I heard, you was a broke woman thanks to the Stock Merket crash! You shoulda bought one before it happened, back when we all had meat to spare!"

Patty crossed her arms, spilling some root beer on the floor. Then how did you expect me to have one of them fancy telephone thing-a-ma-jigs all you rich folk is buyin’?

"Rich folk? Rich folk? You think I’m rich? yelled Geraldine. I appreciate