Twenty Paces
Denulth, the Burthorpe commander, was drinking in the Toad and Chicken when a shadow fell across the front of the inn.
He calmly drained his Asgarnian, then slowly turned to look.
The double doors rattled forcefully inwards and a monstrous shape appeared on the threshold. Unfortunately they sprang shut again just as forcefully, catapulting the looming figure back into the street.
A few moments later they creaked open slowly and a huge troll, stooping double, squeezed cautiously into the room.
"Gnar! What coward jus' kicked me out? All oi wanted wuzza drink."
Pushing his stool back with a clichéd scrape, Denulth stood.
"Your kind ain't welcome here, Mister Whatever-your-name-is."
"Troll-With-No-Name," responded the troll.
"Say what?"
"Troll-With-No-Name. Me mam 'ad no food when I wuz borned, so I dint get named anyfin," explained Troll-With-No-Name carefully.
"Uh, right. Troll-with-no..."
"No, it's me name. Use capitals."
Denulth cursed angrily. "Troll-With-No-Bleeding-Name! Darn it, I've forgotten my lines now." He reached for his well-worn Western phrasebook.
"Ah, here it is. I don't reckon there's enough room in this town for both of us. I'm..."
"Higher ceilings would 'elp. Me neck's killin' me," replied Troll-With-No-Name practically.
Denulth screamed in frustration.
"QUIET! You're COMPLETELY ruining the mood. Now here's what happens. I say there ain't room for both of us, blah-blah-blah, and you ask me who do I think I am? I tell you I'm the law. I should have a star-shaped badge but it's not been written into the object database yet. Then we go outside to duel."
Troll-With-No-Name blinked in confusion.
"We pull out our six-shooter 'fixed devices' and each load a single red-dyed toad. I'm just writing your name on this one. Then we stand back to back, walk twenty paces, turn and fire. Whoever's left standing takes the yet-to-be-implemented star badge and runs the town. Capiche?"
Due to a stiff word-count limit the reader must assume that those events did indeed transpire, so we'll skip to the part where Denulth and Troll-With-No-Name are striding apart, 'fixed devices' loaded and ready.
"Eighteen... Nineteen... Twenty!"
Denulth span around sharply, levelling his 'fixed device’. Pulling the trigger, he launched his amphibious assault with deadly aim.
Splatch!
The toad landed harmlessly in the deserted street.
"Darn it," muttered Denulth. "I knew twenty troll paces were too many."
Dreamweaver