Meet Barry Radcliff – thirties, charming, athletic.
Today he’s ditched the nurse’s uniform for something more adventurous: a Stetson, canvas duster, cowboy boots.
Our anti-hero swaggers down the hall. Suddenly, a group of sickly kids appear. Pale skin, dark circles around the eyes, bandanas covering bald heads.
Normally… depressing.
But this morning the kids are nothing but wide eyes and big smiles. And they’re all armed, each one clutching a toy blaster with a ten-dart clip.
This cowboy may be surrounded, but he’s not going down without a fight. He pulls out a blaster of his own.
“Alright you little varmints…”
The Weekday One Hundred 