"See that lonesome cowboy out there, far from home?" asked the man riding his horse across the endless blue.
"That's me." He tipped his hat. "Lucky Luke. And this here's my trusty horse, Jolly Jumper. We're inseparable." He patted the horse as its hooves somehow kicked up a trail of dust across the open sea.
"Ain't quite sure how I got the handle 'Lucky,'" he said, reclining in the saddle with a straw between his teeth. "Y'know how those nicknames just sorta stick."
Just then, a massive Sea King erupted from the waves, mouth wide open and ready to devour them whole, only to be swallowed instantly by an even bigger Sea King that leaped from the depths behind it.
"Anyhow," he continued, completely unbothered by the chaos, "Jolly and I are on our way to recapture the Dalton Brothers."
"Apparently, no Marine base has been able to hold 'em." He glanced around at the endless ocean. "But it looks like we're a little bit lost."
Time passed, hard to say how much, as the sun rose, set, and rose again. Jolly didn't seem to care about the details. The sea stretched on like a desert without sand. Luke leaned back in the saddle, chewing the same piece of straw, eyes half-lidded beneath the brim of his hat. Then, on the horizon, an island finally came into view.
"Is that what I think it is?" he asked, straightening up.
"Land?" Jolly Jumper replied.
"Indeed. Well, let's mosey on over and see if trouble got there before us," Luke said, adjusting his holster. "Wouldn't want the Dalton Brothers thinking I got rusty just 'cause I took the scenic route."
With that, Jolly picked up speed, hooves somehow kicking up even more dust behind them despite running on water.
The island was small and green, rolling gently with grassy hills and clusters of trees. A few wooden fences stood crookedly in the distance, and the air smelled like hay and salt. As they trotted inland, faint bleating echoed through the breeze.
"Ain't this place peaceful," Luke observed.
That's when a baby goat popped out from behind a bush and stared at them with big, innocent eyes.
"Well now, don't you look like a friendly fella," Luke said, tipping his hat politely.
The baby goat turned tail and bolted into the trees.
Luke and Jolly exchanged a knowing look.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Jolly asked.
"Yep. That goat's either bait... or lost."
They followed the kid through a patch of tall grass and into a clearing, just in time for the ground beneath them to shift.
A crude rope trap snapped taut, and they found themselves surrounded by at least two dozen goats, all glaring at them from every direction.
Luke's eyes narrowed.
In one fluid motion, his hand drifted toward his revolver.
"Six-Shooter Style..." he muttered under his breath.
The goats stiffened, as if sensing the danger.
His fingers twitched, ready to unleash a hail of bullets, enough to ricochet and drop every bleating ambusher in one breath.
"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" Jolly shouted, skidding to a halt. "Don't go ventilating livestock!"
"They surrounded us," Luke said flatly, eyes locked on the biggest goat in the group. "That one's got a shank made of driftwood."
"He's got a limp!" Jolly snapped. "They're not enemies. And that's a walking stick!"
The goats seemed to calm down as Jolly began bleating at them fluently. A few backed away respectfully. One even bowed.
Luke blinked. "You speak goat?"
"I am a talking horse," Jolly replied smugly. "Don't act surprised."
Before Luke could respond, a loud crack came from the trees above.
THUD!
An old man in a tattered cloak dropped out of the branches, landing in the clearing with all the grace of a sack of potatoes. He groaned, then scrambled to his feet the moment he laid eyes on Luke.
His eyes went wide with terror. "AGH! A cowboy pirate?! No, no, no, no! Listen, I swear I don't have any treasure! There's nothing here! Just goats, grass, and bad knees! I'm not worth pillaging, honest!"
Luke raised an eyebrow. "You always fall out of trees when company comes by?"
The old man staggered back, hands raised as he continued rambling. "Look, if you're here for gold, you're wasting your time! This island's got nothing! Nada! Zilch! The goats ate my last pair of boots, I sleep on a log, and I'm definitely not hiding a chest full of berries under the floorboards of a shack that definitely doesn't exist!"
Jolly squinted suspiciously. "That's oddly specific."
Luke didn't move. He just let his shadow stretch across the clearing and slowly chewed the straw between his teeth, studying the panicked old man.
The old man gulped nervously.
Then Luke spoke. "I ain't a pirate, old-timer."
The man's eyes rolled back instantly. "I knew it... I'm doomed..."
THUMP!
The old man collapsed flat on his back, arms sprawled out, tongue lolling from his mouth.
Luke stared down at the unconscious figure, then shook his head.
"Well, that's dramatic," he muttered, swinging down from the saddle. "Didn't even need to reach for my gun."
Jolly flicked his ears dismissively. "He's out cold. You gonna do something about it?"
Luke knelt beside the fallen man, removed his hat respectfully, and checked for a pulse.
Finding the man unconscious and with barely a heartbeat, he gave a few steady chest compressions to help his heart beat faster.
"Ain't about to get lost out here 'cause some goat wrangler keeled over on us," he said practically.
Jolly huffed with mild surprise. "You don't usually go this far for strangers."
Luke shrugged. "He's got goats depending on him. Someone's gotta run this place."
Moments later, the old man shot up with a gasp like he'd been struck by lightning, eyes wide and arms flailing wildly.
"Wh-what happened?! Is this the afterlife?! Are you Kami?!"
Luke calmly placed his hat back on his head and stood up, brushing dust off his knees. "Close. Just a cowboy with decent timing."
The old man blinked at him, still disoriented and confused. "You're... you're not pirates?"
"Nope," Jolly replied dryly. "But if you keep passing out like that, someone's bound to rob you blind anyway."
Still catching his breath, the old man clutched his chest dramatically. "I thought I was done for... The goats, the island, it's all yours. Take whatever you want..."
Luke looked around at the peaceful island, then back at the trembling hermit. "What I want," he said slowly, "is directions to the nearest Marine base. And maybe some information about four troublemakers called the Dalton Brothers."
The old man's expression shifted from terror to curiosity. "You're... you're really not here to rob me?"
"Not unless you're harboring criminals," Luke replied with a slight smile. "Name's Lucky Luke, and I'm here on official business."