WARNING #1:  the following is a satire.  It is supposed to be amusing.  If it will offend you to see Scott portrayed as somewhat obsessive-compulsive and Johnny as slightly dim, please read no further. Like anything else, this probably is funnier read late at night.  Very late.

WARNING #2:  the following is a sequel.  So, if you found Episode #1 to be amusing, rest assured that this one will probably not be as funny.  If you didn't enjoy Episode #1, you should have stopped reading by now!!!!

DISCLAIMER:  I love Scott and Johnny both.  REALLY!!!!  (But especially Scott. )

CHALLENGE:  To identify quotes and episodes referenced.

Having completed his lengthy bare-chested tour of the Lancer ranch, Johnny was just slipping his arms into the sleeves of his blue flowered shirt when he saw Scott approaching on horseback.

“Well Brother, did you have a nice ride?” Scott asked as he brought his nameless horse to a halt.

‘Bout time you showed up,” Johnny muttered.

“I told you I’d see you in an hour--its been precisely sixty minutes.”

You coulda come and helped me out for the last five.”

“And done what?  Folded your shirt?”

<<And folded and refolded. >> Johnny thought.  “You just shoulda been here Scott.”

“My mistake. I’m not used to making an appearance in a ‘Johnny episode‘.”

The brothers turned their mounts in the direction of the  Lancer hacienda  “Johnny, you do look exhausted,” Scott observed.

“Yeah. It was a lot of ridin’.  You know, it’s a pretty big ranch.”

“Fortunately for you.” Scott noted dryly.

They rode in companionable silence for a time.  Their horses moved side by side at a leisurely pace.

“So what are you going to do next week?”, Johnny finally asked, in a completely disinterested tone.
 

“Oh, the usual,” Scott responded with an equivalent lack of enthusiasm.  The brothers had been doing this for a rather long time. “I encounter someone in distress, trust them, try to help.  Discover that I’m being misled.  Decide to continue to assist them anyway.”

“Sounds familiar.  Is she pretty?”

“Very.”

After a short silence, Scott confided:  “I am also working on an idea for a new Final Episode. “

“We had a Final Episode--it was called ‘Lifeless’ or somethin’ like that.”

“’Lifeline‘. “ Scott corrected him.  “It wasn’t a particularly good episode.  But if it had been a cliffhanger, we might have been brought back for a third season.”

“How would you make a -- what? a ‘cliffhanger’ out of ‘Lifeline‘?” Johnny asked doubtfully.

“Well, Little Brother”, Scott said in amused tone,  “it wouldn’t mean that we’d have to be hanging onto a rope while dangling over a cliff.”

Johnny grinned at that.  “Well, why not--it would give you a chance to say your line again.”  He removed his hat, lifted his chin and enunciated clearly in a solemn tone: “The rope won’t break for me.”

Scott felt like breaking something.  His brother had gotten most of the other really good lines. “Anyway“, Johnny continued, “I thought that ‘Lifeline’ was a pretty fine episode.”

Scott just looked at him without saying anything.  Johnny hated it when he did that.

“What?”

“Johnny, I wasn’t in it.”

“Huh?”

“I-- was-- not-- in-- it.  It was The Final Episode and I WAS NOT in it.”

“Sure you were. You were sitting right beside me at the kitchen table. “

“For thirty seconds---if anyone blinked, they’d have missed me.”

“I was on camera----no one blinked.” Johnny said reassuringly.

He continued to try to cheer Scott up.  “Look, I seemta remember that we talked about ya a lot.”

Scott looked at Johnny in disbelief.  “No, you didn’t.  Do you have any idea how many times my name was actually mentioned in that episode?”

“No, but I figure that you’re gonna tell me,” Johnny said with resignation.  Scott could count pretty good; they’d taught him that at Harvard.  Counting made Johnny’s head hurt.

To Johnny’s consternation, instead of supplying the number immediately, Scott reined “NoName” to a halt.  He watched as his brother leaned forward and stroked the animal’s neck before whispering a question into one twitching ear.  “How many times did they say ‘Scott” in ‘Lifeline‘?” he asked his mount.  The horse lifted its left hoof and the white ankle flashed in the sun as it pawed the ground: once, twice.

<Madre de Dios >> thought Johnny.  <<He can’t seem to settle on a name but he’s gone and taught it to count. >>  Out loud, he said: “Well, Scott, I’m guessin’ that ‘two’ isn’t a very big number.”

“No, Johnny, it isn’t.  Ranch Hand # 3 had a larger part than I did.  And that was true of quite a few second season episodes.  Would you like to know how many?”

Johnny watched with a mixture of awe and apprehension as his brother interrogated his horse once more.  Could the animal really count that high, he wondered?

It could.

After a suitable solemn silence, which provided time for the dust to settle. Johnny returned to the topic at hand:   “I still don’t see why we need a new Final Episode.”

“As a conclusion, Johnny,” Scott explained.  “A Final Episode should wrap up the important unanswered questions from the series. Like--

“Why Murdoch never can to claim you/me in Boston!” the brothers chorused.

“Well, Scott, it seems like it wouldn’t be such a big mystery if you’d just ask him.”

“I did ask him.  He wouldn’t answer me.”

“That’s your own fault.  You’re the one that didn’t say anythin’ til your grandfather showed up and put Murdoch in a bad mood.”

“Johnny, I waited the entire first season for Murdoch to be in a good mood. Then, when I finally questioned him, he wouldn’t respond.  But he almost told you.”

Johnny snorted at that. “Yeah, right.  ‘Almost.’  He didn’t tell me nothin’.  He just sat there and had another flashback.”

“You know, Scott”, Johnny added in a tentative tone. “That, uh, ‘situation’ was sorta mentioned in ‘Yesterday’s Vendetta’”.

“’Yesterday’s Vengeance’ was the copyright title.”

“Yeah, well. . . Listen, Scott, do you remember why Murdoch took off after Judd Haney?”

Scott thought for a moment.  “Not exactly. It was thirty years ago, Johnny.  But I do clearly recall that when I went off to find Murdoch, you were not planning to come with me.”

“I was just sore at you ‘cause you wouldn’t pour me any coffee. “

“You mean in the previous scene??  You did look rather funny sitting there holding out that cup.”

“You looked kinda-----not polite.”

Scott displayed what for him was an absolutely, exceptionally, wide range of emotion--startled, then aghast.   Not wanting his brother to hurt himself, Johnny hastily continued. “But don’t worry, I got you back when I slid down that banister at Mrs. Haney’s hotel.”

“Right.  You certainly showed me. . . .  Actually, I thought that it was quite appropriate to the scene, since we were both under the impression that Murdoch was dead.  . .  .So you were saying,  Johnny, there was something about my ‘situation‘ in that episode?”

“Yeah,” Johnny answered slowly.  He was very reluctant to bring up anything having to do with the topic of Scott‘s mother, Murdoch‘s first wife.  “Well, you were the one sittin’ beside his bed at the Haney’s, after he’d been shot.  . . . What did Murdoch say when you found him?”

“He said:  ‘Where’s Johnny?’”

“Oh.”

“You are his favorite.”  Scott smiled.  He clearly was not saddened by that fact.  He met his brother’s eyes., arched his brows.  “At least he didn’t say---

“Drink?!” the brothers shouted in unison, echoing the very first thing that their father had said to them in the pilot.  It was something that they both recalled clearly and it never failed to amuse them.  Johnny laughed so hard that he fell off of his horse.  Even Scott managed a small chuckle.

Picking himself up, Johnny carefully slapped the dust from his form fitting pants and, with his back to the camera, slowly remounted Barranca.  He repeated this action several times, as the “Johnny girls” rewound and replayed their tapes.  The Scott fans waited patiently, secure in their knowledge that Scott‘s butt was better.

“So Scott, do you remember Murdoch saying somethin’ in that episode about you maybe wantin’ to finish the job on Judd Haney?”

“Actually I do”, Scott replied.  “I assumed that he was getting us confused again.  He does that rather often, you know.”

“Thinks I’m you?  You’re me?”

“You do have to admit that the resemblance between us is quite startling.”

“Yeah, it sure is.”

“Do you remember “The Buscaderos?”  <<I’m sure that you do, that was my best one>>, thought Scott. “When I told him to “take it from me, Johnny Madrid“?

“’Course I remember that”.  <<Got a big laugh outa it, too,>> thought Johnny.

“I saw his eyes, Johnny. He believed me.”

“Well, so I guess you did do some pretty good actin’ in that one. And, now that you mention it, he did look kinda blank when I showed up.”

“So, now, what exactly was said about ‘the situation’ in the “Yesterday’s Vengeance” episode?”

Johnny really wasn’t feeling very good about this.  After all, Scott was the smart one; Johnny wasn’t supposed to have to be trying to explain things to his older brother.  “Well, Murdoch left in the middle of the night to deal with somethin’ that had happened 25 years ago.  .  .  And--“  Johnny opted for the indirect approach: “Say Scott, how old were you in that episode?”

“The same age as I am now: 24 years, 8 months and 11 days.”

“11 days?”  Johnny asked.  <<Damn, >> he thought <<Murdoch was right >>.  Johnny’s money had been on Haney.

The brothers slowed their horses as they approached the Lancer arch.  Johnny was clearly waiting for Scott to go first.  <<It was his episode, so that means its my
turn to go first >>  he thought reluctantly.  He closed his eyes as he rode through the portal and was greatly relieved when he opened them to find that he had made it safely to the other side.

Scott heard Johnny’s voice behind him: “Uh, Scott?’

“Yes?”

“I got my pink shirt on again.”

“I know”, Scott said without turning.  “I’m downwind.”

“It’s not my fault”, Johnny said in a discouraged voice. “I can’t help it if they made me wear it all the time.”

“I know”, said Scott in an understanding tone. “I have a Beige one like that. But maybe you could just ride up ahead a little.”

 Scott recognized that his own attire had also been transformed.  He was no longer wearing his very nice cropped jacket with the leather trim, but just a shirt.  <<Please, let it be the blue one.  Everyone likes that one best. >> he thought.  But no, when he looked down, his shirt was plain white. Not a single button undone, either.  He sighed.  From the feel of it, he was also wearing his smaller, second season hat. Scott reached up, removed the hat and settled it squarely on his head.

 Arriving in front of the hacienda, Johnny turned to his older brother:  “Boston, you should go on inside and just ask Murdoch ‘bout Boston.“

“You know, Johnny, that’s not my only unanswered question.”

“It ain’t?”

“Let me just ahsk you something first. . . “

“Scott, I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout Boston.”

“I know that.  But there’s something else that I want to ahsk you.“

“I don’t know, Scott!” Johnny said quickly.  “I really just don’t know WHICH ONE OF US TERESA LIKED BEST.”

Scott raised his eyebrows.  “Well, I do, “ he replied.  “And that’s not what I wanted to ahsk you.”

“Oh.”

 Scott reached up with one gloved hand and pushed his hat back onto the crown of his head.  Johnny waited nervously, wondering what his brother’s question would be.  Scott began to remove the glove from his right hand, one finger at a time.  Johnny was having a very bad feeling about this. He noticed that the current Lancer theme variation seemed to be speeding up.  Scott started working on the left glove, one finger at a time.  The theme music increased in volume.  Johnny couldn’t stand it--when Scott finally finished with his gloves and looked up at Johnny to “ahsk” his question, Johnny reached forward and grasped a handful of Barranca’s mane.  At the pre-arranged signal, the pale-colored horse rolled his eyes, but obediently hoisted his front legs a few feet off of the ground.  Then, jarringly, with straight legs, he landed again.

“Graceful”, nickered NoName dryly.

“Oh, go count something,” Barranca snorted back at him.

Meanwhile, as Scott looked on, the stuntman slowly tumbled out of the saddle and landed softly on the ground.  “Ow,“ Johnny said.

Scott gazed thoughtfully at the gloves he was holding in his hand.  “I’m hit,” Johnny announced, holding his arm.  “Scott, you’d better count this one.“

Scott glanced down at Johnny.  “You haven’t been shot,” he said dismissively.  “Now, about my question . . “

“It’s bad, “ Johnny insisted.  “Scott, you’re gonna have to ride for help.”

“What if I were to simply dismount, and then go over and knock on the front door?”

“Okay,” Johnny said bravely.  “I’ll wait here. But you’d better hurry . . .  Scott--
Scott--  I can’t see!”

Scott looked over at the heavy wood paneled door.  <<I’d better put my gloves back on first, >> he decided.   At that moment, the front door opened and Murdoch and Jelly emerged.  Murdoch, on his very long and improbably skinny legs, hustled over to his fallen son’s side.

“Johnny! What happened?”

“Uh . .  It was Scott . . he . . . uh . . shot me.” Murdoch glared up at Scott, while Jelly stood back with his hands on his hips.  “Waall, I don’t hardly believe Scott would ever do that”,  Jelly said, shaking his head.  “’Specially seein’ as I didn’t hear any gunfire.”

“What happened, son?”  Murdoch inquired tenderly.

“Uh .  .  It was Scott . . he . . . uh .  . .  pushed me.” With assistance from Murdoch and Jelly, Johnny got gingerly to his feet.  He leaned heavily on the two men for support.  “You’d better just get me inside,” he murmured urgently.

“Well?” Murdoch glowered up at his elder son.  Scott finished putting his gloves back on, then removed his hat and settled it squarely on his head.  He gave Murdoch a direct look:  “I was merely going to ask him a question .  .  “  Murdoch stiffened at the word, Jelly’s mouth dropped open and ominous music played.

“A Question,“ Murdoch said tightly.  “Hopefully not about the past.”

“Well, yes, actually,“ the blond man replied.  “Murdoch, I think you and I are overdue for a little talk.   .  .   You see, I was wondering about . .  Chad ---

 Suddenly Johnny dropped to the ground as Jelly and Murdoch hastily relinquished their grasps.  Then the big wooden paneled door slammed shut, with the two older men safely on the other side.

 -- Lancer, or ‘Lancre‘,” Scott explained.

He looked down at his brother.  “Johnny, you might as well get up.”  Scott pushed his hat back on the crown of his head.  “I assume that there’s something that I’m not supposed to know about Chad,” he added dryly.

 Johnny shook his head.  Scott sure was smart, all right.  The dark haired man reluctantly stood up and methodically dusted his tight black pants.  Scott regarded him appraisingly.  <<My fans are right >> , he noted with mild surprise.  <<Johnny’s butt is just a little bit too flat. >>

 Johnny picked up his hat as Scott smoothly dismounted.  His perfectly bent right leg remained perfectly parallel to the ground as he swung it over the horse’s back.

“Listen, Scott . . . you know it was me that found Chad.”

“Yes, I do recall the episode.”

“Yeah, well, there was another one after that. . . You weren’t in it.  I kinda didn’t want ya to know ‘bout that one.”

“Johnny, you know what the trouble with you is?”

 “What is it?”

“You worry too much, Little Brother.  You worry all the time, you’re worse than----”

“But Scott, them writer fellas, they were thinkin’ . .  that Chad. . .

“Johnny, I saw “Dream of Falcons.”

<<You mean ,“Falcon Nightmare.“ >>  “You saw it?!”

“Of course.  It was the episode immediately after ‘The Buscaderos.’ That was my best one.”

“It sure was Scott,”  Johnny said eagerly.  “You and that Gatling gun!!  That sure was somethin’. . . .”

“I know.”

“So, uh, Scott--- what didya think ‘bout that ‘Falcons’ episode?”

“It was  . . um . . different  . .  for a ‘Johnny’ episode.  I suppose it was  . .  . entertaining.”

“Embarrassin’, you mean.”

“That too.”

“So what ever happened to Chad?”

“I took care of him.”

Scott looked at his younger brother searchingly: “Johnny, you don’t mean . .  .”

“Naw.  I’m reformed, remember.  Though I’m not sayin’ I wouldn’t have done it if someone’d paid me, oh, say, $26.36.”

“Then  . . .

“Well, Big Brother, I still got friends.”

Scott nodded.  “One anyway. I assume that means that we owe Joe Don Baker a small favor.”

 Johnny smiled at his brother affectionately.  “I sure was glad that you came back, Boston.”  Following an intricately choreographed series of cheek slaps, arm grabs and stomach taps, they threw their arms around each other’s shoulders.  As the Lancer boys led their horses away, the camera zoomed in on each of the four rear ends in turn, strolling in time to a leisurely version of the Lancer theme.

     THE END

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
    Next Week: “The Portal”
The Boys pass through the Lancer arch and experience a startling transformation!!
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Scott and Johnny in Lancerland
Episode Two.  “The Ends”
Written by S. Coulton

Starring:

WM’s Champion New Brunswick of Boston  as. . . . .  . .  NoName
Barranca as . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  . . .  . . . .  . . . . .  .Johnny’s Horse
Scott Lancer as  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  . . . . . . . . . . . .Scott Lancer
Johnny Madrid Lancer as . . . . . . . . . . .  . . . .  .. . . . . . . . . . . Johnny Madrid Lancer