37. Frontierland

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EXT. STREET

A noose was hanging from the gallows.

Sunrise, Wyoming - March 5, 1861

Two cowboys stepped into the street. A woman peered at them through a window. They faced each other from several feet apart. They opened their coats and had their hands ready to draw their guns. A man watched them through the window.  One was wearing a Sheriff badge. It was Dean. A clock struck noon. Then men looked at each other and drew their guns. A gunshot sounded.

EXT. CAMPBELL COMPOUND

48 hours earlier and 150 years later

"It's here, somewhere," Sam said. "I know it." He looked to Bobby. "Help me move this."

INT. CAMPBELL COMPOUND

Sam and Bobby moved Samuel's desk, revealing a trapdoor.

"I'll be damned," Bobby commented.

Sam, Dean and Bobby headed down the ladder.

"Welcome to the Campbell family library," Sam said.

"So, Samuel collected all this stuff, huh?" Dean asked.

"Apparently."

"Wow. All right, well, what are we looking for?"

"Well, anything that'll put a run in the Octomom's stockings," Bobby replied. "Pick a row."

They all started looking through the books in the library.

"Bingo," Bobby said as all four sat in the middle of the room. "Either of you jokers ever heard anything about a Phoenix?"

"River, Joaquin, or the giant flaming bird?" Dean questioned.

Bobby ignored him. "It says here that the ashes of a Phoenix can burn the mother."

"The mother?" Sam repeated.

"Great," Dean muttered. "Where do we get one?"

Bobby shrugged. "You got me. I thought it was a myth."

Dean looked between them. "All right, great. Well, let's see if we can find anything about a Phoenix."

They looked through the books again.

"Guys," Dean called. "Guys, guys, guys, guys, guys, check this out." Dean joined Bobby and Sam at the table and began reading from the book he was holding. ""March 5, 1861. Sunrise, Wyoming. Gun killed a Phoenix today. Left a pile of smoking ash.""

"Really? Whose gun?" Sam asked.

"Colt's."

Sam's eyes widened as it dawned on him. "Colt? Colt like-"

"Like the Colt. From..." Dean held up the book, grinning, "...From Samuel Colt's journal."

"What?!" Sam grinned. "That's his?"

"Yeah."

"Dude, no."

"Dude, yes."

Sam grabbed for the book. "Well, let me see it."

"Get your own."

"Well, what else did he say about the Phoenix?" Bobby asked. "What does it look like? Has it got feathers?"

"It just says "Phoenix.""

"Did he say where he tracked it?"

"No."

"All right, so I guess we got to find one of our own, wherever it is," Sam said.

"I know where we can find one. March 5, 1861. Sunrise, Wyoming. We'll Star Trek IV this bitch." Sam shrugged.

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