The Lone Ranger is the name of a masked vigilante who fought outlaws in the Old West, together with his Native American sidekick Tonto and his white stallion Silver. He adopted the "lone" in his name not because he worked alone, but because he was the lone survivor of a posse of six Texas Rangers who were ambushed by a gang they were pursuing. As the Lone Ranger was left to die, a Powatami Indian named Tonto fortunately came upon the scene and nurses him back to health. Tonto also buries the other Texas Rangers who have died; including one who was actually the brother of the Lone Ranger. To honor his late brother, the Lone Ranger made a vow to take on Cavindish and his gang and bring them to justice. Using a domino mask to conceal his identity, he then rides off to track down their gang with Tonto, and in their first adventure the Indian gave him the name Kemo Sabe, which means "trusty scout".
After their feud with Cavindish, the Lone Ranger and Tonto continued their quest to bring justice throughout the American frontier, against a variety of villains from outlaw gangs and bandits, corrupt men in power and even rogue Indians on a warpath. As a fighter for justice, the Lone Ranger carried a code of honor to always be a trusted and compassionate friend and to never kill a fellow man.
Battle vs. The Man with no Name (by Elgb333)
It was near evening in a small town in Pleasant Valley, Arizona. The sun was finally sinking into the horizon, and the darkness was filling up the night sky. When the people started to feel the cold and darkness seeping in, they finally halted their activities and headed home for the night. The stores and establishments have closed their doors, and the lights from the lamps and hearths twinkle as the town went dark. Finally the place was in peace, the people rested comfortably in their homes. Hopefully, tomorrow will be another day for them to continue their tedious lives. But even as nighttime finally came, the people still kept vigilant for danger is always lurking to disturb the peace. Even as the decent folks settle in for the night, noise can still be heard radiating from the only place in town that never sleeps: the saloon. Every day and every night one can always hear the vaudeville music being played, the men cheering and jeering and the girls giggling in delight, and tonight was no different. It was a madhouse, a place only fit for the sinners and the like. Many of the decent townsfolk hated that saloon. It always stank of human hubris and was a frequent scene of violence and vice. But as the people gets ready for the night, they couldn’t do anything about the noisy saloon. It was a livelihood that keeps this town alive, and any Western town would never be complete without it.
While the saloon did its thing, a mysterious clapping of hooves was heard echoing throughout the streets. Some of the curious townsfolks peeked through their windows, wanting to know who’s crazy enough to still be loitering around at this time. However, the only thing they saw in the streets was a lone figure, still hidden in the dark and slowly trudging towards the noisy saloon. His horse and his hat was as white as snow gleaming in the naked dark. His face was hidden by darkness itself, but pinned down on his bright blue uniform was a shiny lone star; the badge of the Texas Ranger. Seeing this, the people peaking in their windows felt their nerves shaking intensely. They quietly backed away from their windows and turned off their lamps. They then tucked away their kids to beds and eagerly listened to what might happen next. They know that whenever law comes galloping around, especially towards a sinful place like the saloon, its deadly mix always results in violence, carnage and even death.
As the rider came closer to the saloon, some of the patrons inside finally started to notice him. At first the place didn’t mind the rider for they couldn’t make out who he was. But as he rested his horse and puts his foot on the saloon, the light coming from the place finally illuminated his face. As the Ranger went inside the building, his presence suddenly made the whole place silent. As the patrons finally see him in the flesh, they saw that this man, this Ranger, was wearing a mask…
The masked man looked at them with intent. A few of these people have heard the tales, followed the newspapers or have read the dime novels, and they knew who that man was. That mask, that uniform, those silver guns and that badge, tells them that this man was none other than the Lone Ranger himself.
The Lone Ranger didn’t mind the people looking at him curiously. His reputation alone was enough to paralyze them like cold graves so he had nothing to worry about. He nonetheless kept a serious face as he scans the whole establishment, as if he was eagerly looking, or hunting, for someone. Finally, with a loud deep voice that commanded authority, the Lone Ranger said, “Good evening gentlemen. I’m looking for a man named Edwin Tewksbury. I heard that he can be found in this place and I believe that he is right here among you. Can anyone please tell me which one of you is he?”
The nervous patrons quickly turned their heads towards a man seating in a bench in the corner. His head was buried on the table, taking small sips of his whiskey glass and paying no attention to whatever's happening at the moment. The Lone Ranger approaches the man he’s been looking for and asked, “Are you Edwin Tewksbury?”
The drunken man only looked up at him with his red weary eyes and smiled. He must be really drunk to be seeing a crazy masked man posing right in front of him like a bad dime novel story. ” Yeah that’s me. And who’re you supposed to be eh? Fuckin’ El Zorro?” He said with laughter. The Lone Ranger on the other hand, replied by flipping the table and grabbing Ed by his collar. “Hey what gives partner?” said the terrified Ed. The patrons, who were lively before, now cower silently in fear as a confrontation have begun.
“Edwin Tewksbury. You are under arrest for the murder of Tom Graham and his clan,” the Lone Ranger said while violently shaking the poor drunk. “Now, you can come with me peacefully or I’ll drag your carcass to the Marshall’s office myself.”
Another lone figure smoking a cigar and wearing a poncho arrived in the saloon. Tall and brandishing a menacing squint, he noticed the commotion that was happening before heading towards the bar. The Man sits himself and orders a glass of whiskey. Curious on what was happening, he asked the bartender with a deep swave voice, “What the hell are those two doing? They having a couple’s argument or somethin’?”
The nervous bartender quietly whispers to the Man, “Careful what you say fella. That man over there is the Lone Ranger.”
“Lone Ranger…” The Man thought. “So what’s this Lone Ranger doing here?”
The bartender looks at him with annoyance for his seemingly careless response. “You can see that for yourself, the Lone Ranger is trying to arrest this man by the name of Edwin Tewksbury, who’s some asshole guilty for murder.”
The name suddenly caught the attention of the now interested Man. “Did you say… Edwin Tewksbury? Sonuvabitch,” he said as he took a crumpled Wanted Poster from his pocket. The Wanted Poster had the name of Edwin Tewksbury, with a bounty of $500 dollars. The Man has been hunting this Edwin Tewksbury and he’s the reason why the Man is in Arizona right now. And it seemed that the Lone Ranger has beaten him to it. Pissed and cursing, he orders another glass of whiskey to celebrate his failure.
The Lone Ranger on the other hand was still busy beating the crap out of Ed. With a final and painful backslap, Edwin Tewksbury finally complied, “Okay okay. I’m coming with you. Please God… stop hitting me.” With those words, the Lone Ranger finally grabs a lasso from his belt and started tying the poor drunk with the rope. The Man with No Name was impressed on how efficient this Lone Ranger works. If it was anybody else, it would have ended up in a typical gunfight, but it was unique to see this Lone Ranger capture a suspect without even drawing an iron. As the Man watches and takes a sip of his whiskey, he thinks to himself, “He’s good alright. But what happens if he’s face to face with a gun?”
Soon enough as the Man thought of it, a group of four armed men barged into the saloon and aimed their weapons at the Lone Ranger. “You let go of him Ranger. Or we’re gonna fill this saloon with smoke!” said one of the armed men. Introducing themselves as friends of Edwin Tewksbury, the people inside dared not intervene or end up eating bullets for dinner. The people couldn’t believe that their precious peace was getting disrupted once again. Now the whole town will feel the burn of a blazing gunfight.
The Lone Ranger was unfazed by their incursion. He knocks out Ed Tewksbury and quickly rolls out towards a poker table for cover. The armed men retaliated by firing their pistols at him but missed, and the saloon patrons fled in panic at the ensuing gunfight. Lone Ranger took the opportunity to quickly draw his own silver revolver and opened fire. His silver bullets hit two of the armed men in their wrists, wounding them badly and putting them out of commission. As the two wounded men cried in pain, the remaining two scattered towards different directions. One tried to flank the Lone Ranger from the left, and the Lone Ranger manage to fire a bullet at him but missed, hitting the ceiling instead. As the man tried to shoot back at the Lone Ranger, a chandelier on the ceiling that was hit by the Lone Ranger’s bullet fell on his head and knocked him out.
The Lone Ranger tried to find where the other guy went, but he was only greeted by a pistol aimed at his back. The last remaining gunman cocks his pistol and smiles at the Lone Ranger. “I got you know you crazy sonuvabitch!”
But before he can pull the trigger, a shot rang out and a bullet hits him right in the sternum. Shocked at what just happened, the Lone Ranger tried to catch the mortally wounded man from hitting the floor. But it was too late as the man’s cold dead body fell on it with a loud thud. As the dead man’s eye stared blankly at the Lone Ranger, his anger took a hold of him and he looks around to see who made that murderous shot. It turns out that the Man wearing a poncho made that shot, and he twirls his pistol back to his holster before tipping his hat to the Ranger.
The Lone Ranger angrily stormed towards the Man and yelled, “What have you done?!!”
The Man with No Name can only look at him with confusion. He just saved his life but now he’s angry at him for doing so. Puffing a cigar and giving the Lone Ranger his trademark menacing squint, he only replied, “You're welcome,” before turning his back towards the door.
But the Lone Ranger stopped him by grabbing his vest and replied, “You’re not going anyway, and you’re going to pay for what you did.”
The Man tried to get the Lone Ranger’s hands off of him but they were grabbing too tight for him to shrug off. Pissed, he yelled, “Get your hands off me masked man. I just saved your life!”
“No!” The Lone Ranger said before kneeing the Man in the gut. “I didn’t need savin’ friend. Now the blood of that person flows in this saloon!”
As the Lone Ranger focused his rage on the Man, Edwin Tewksbury finally wakes up and quickly dashes towards the exit. Seeing his quarry escape, the Lone Ranger’s fury only intensified. “Now look at what you’ve done! He got away!” he said before pummeling the Man in the face. “Get off me!” the Man yelled as he punches back at the Lone Ranger, but his shots only bounced off the masked man's body. The Lone Ranger countered by giving The Man a big uppercut, sending the Man crashing headfirst into the bar table. The Man has never fought someone this tough before, and he knows that a fistfight ain’t gonna help him today. As the Lone Ranger grabs him by the collar, the Man managed to grab a machete lying on the bar’s floor and slashes at the Lone Ranger. The latter managed to back away, and seeing that the Man is now holding a blade, the Lone Ranger grabs his pistol to disarm him. But the Man quickly throws the machete at him before he can pull the trigger. And the blade hits the Lone Ranger in the cheek, drawing blood, and pissing him off even more. The Man then quickly gets behind the bar, draws his revolver and fires at the Lone Ranger.
The Lone Ranger sidesteps behind another poker table and fires back with his own silver pistols. The two were now stuck in an intense gunfight. The Man keeps peeking from the bar and pot shotting the Lone Ranger as much as he can. His bullets grazes and wounds the Lone Ranger throughout his body, while the Lone Ranger was still busy trying to find a clear shot to disarm him. This gave the Lone Ranger a tremendous disadvantage as he makes caution that his shots would only disarm, while the Man’s pistol slowly grazes him to death. Seeing his opponent the yellow-belly he is, the Man with No Name then let’s loose a well-aimed shot at the Lone Ranger. The bullet hits the Ranger in the spleen, making him bleed profusely with pain. Though down on the mat and bleeding to death, this only angered the Lone Ranger even more and he grabs his powerful rifle to retaliate. The Lone Ranger recklessly fires his rifle with adrenaline at the Man, and the rifle’s more powerful rounds punctured the Man’s cover and hits him twice in the shoulder. The splinters from the wrecked bar hits the Man in the face as well, and he blindly and yellingly tries to shoot back at the Lone Ranger. This gave the Lone Ranger he’s much needed opportunity, and finally shoots the Man in his hand, disabling him. The Man fell on the floor yelling and clutching his bleeding hand as the Lone Ranger continues his barrage of bullets. Broken glass and wood fell on the Man as the Lone Ranger’s bullets slowly thin out and crush his cover.
The Lone Ranger then ceases fire and starts carefully approaching the bar. As he slowly walks with caution, he yells, “Give it up gunfighter. Your hand’s already busted. You can’t shoot me anymore.”
But as the Lone Ranger peeks his rifle around the bar, he sees the Man smiling and holding a Henry rifle aimed directly at him. Panicking, the Lone Ranger let’s out a shot. Both fired their rifles at the same time, and the Lone Ranger gets hit in the leg and stumbles away, while the Man gets hit in the shoulder and falls back to the floor. They quickly stand back up and continue shooting at each other. Their shots flew wildly in the saloon, hitting every space there is. The Lone Ranger continues to fire at the bar, shattering glass after glass of flammable alcohol which started a small fire. The Man himself shot back, and some of his bullets hit the combustable lamps that started fire as well. As the two gunfighters shoot at each other, they unwittingly caused the saloon to go up in flames.
It was too late for the Lone Ranger to notice the fire creeping throughout the walls and the ceiling. The two gunfighters finally stopped shooting as smoke filled the saloon and flaming debris started to fall. The saloon has now turned into a blazing inferno, and the Lone Ranger quickly tries to find a way out. He limps towards the exit while holding his bleeding wounds, but a large flaming piece of the ceiling suddenly fell on top of him. Pinned down on the floor and feeling the fire burn at him, the Lone Ranger squirmed desperately to escape. The debris was too heavy, and he couldn’t even budge an inch. He tries and tries his best while the smoke finally started to fill his lungs. It seems hopeless, but the Lone Ranger tries again with all his strength to pull himself out. He finally succeeds in freeing himself, and he desperately tries to crawl away towards the exit with every might he got. He then rolls over towards the dusty streets, now outside that burning inferno. Though he was now safe, the Lone Ranger can still feel the flames searing at his back.
The Lone Ranger stands back up and painfully coughs away any remaining smoke in his lungs. His eyes were watering with pain but they gradually started to come back. And the first thing he saw as his eyesight got back… was the Man with No Name standing right in front of him. Burned and bruised, but nonetheless okay, the Man looks at him with burning hate.
Although badly wounded, the two gunfighters kept their hands on their other pistol. Now there was no bar or cover to separate the two, and it was time to finally end this showdown once and for all. “You feeling lucky… masked man?” the Man asked.
“Yes, and I agree. We’ve both made too much mess already,” the Lone Ranger said.
The two have finally decided to end this gunfight in an old-fashioned duel. Like all quick draw duels, the one with the fastest and most steady hand will prevail. And so the two men stared at each other and dared not to make any sudden moves. The pain from their burns still tingled throughout their bodies to the point of crippling them. But even though the burning pain was becoming immense, the two still kept a firm stance to each other.
The Lone Ranger takes a deep breath. Though his body was smoking like roasted beef ribs and his eyes watering like the Pecos, he collects all his remaining energy for one final draw. He thinks of his dead brother, his friend Tonto, all the girls he fell in love with over the years, and his faithful Silver. All of them will be his strength for this battle. For years he has fought for what is right. For a long time he has fought for justice and against bloodshed. For years he have survived worst scrapes than this. And for a long time he always carried this code with him probably till the day he dies.
The Lone Ranger twitches his fingers and slowly steadies his breathing, before finally saying, “I believe… that no man has the right to take another man’s life. It is a commandment written by God himself and no mortal man should ever, in any circumstance, violate it. And I have fought for life and justice. Even as I faced murderers, I fought them not by becoming like them, but by…”
However, his little speech was interrupted by a loud gunshot that echoed throughout the whole town. The Lone Ranger couldn’t believe what the hell just happened. He was smelling burned gunpowder but his hand hasn’t even reached his pistol. As he looked down, he finds that gunsmoke was coming from a small hole in his heart. He slowly looks up, blood coming from his chest and mouth, at the Man with No Name, who was looking at him like he didn’t give a fuck, but holding a revolver in his hands aimed at him.
“You know masked man,” the Man with No Name said as he twirls his pistol back to his holster. “There are two kinds of men in this world. Those who talks too much… and those who shuts them up. You talk too much…”
And then, the Lone Ranger’s body fell lifeless to the dusty ground below. His eyes staring at the sky as the sun has started to rise back up again. The Man with No Name sits at a horse post and rests. He breathes the fresh air as the morning breeze finally comes rolling. Although he captured his bounty, he was relieved to finally end the weirdest gunfight he had ever fought so far.
The Man with No Name won because he was willing to kill than the Lone Ranger. Both men were considered pretty equal in gunfight skills. But while the Lone Ranger had the better rifle and training x-factor, expert’s believed that his non-lethal methods would fail him. The Man not only had superior marksmanship, but he had no qualms on killing people unlike the Lone Ranger, which makes his job easier and more efficient.