I realized I didnāt actually answer my own question! I have a bunch but hereās one thatās been rotting on my hard drive since 2011. Itās a game about dying cowboys:
Itās 1899, and youāre in Sunny Slope, a tent city and sanitarium north of Phoenix, Arizona Territory. The west isnāt so wild any more and, being powerful sick, youāre come here to die. Sunny Slope is paradise, thereās nothing to do but rest and take in the palliative breezes. Itās as if God made it so you could go easy.
And yet here you are strapping on your barking irons with a bunch of other pox-ridden, busted up wrecks. It is a puzzlement. What could compel a posse of diseased rejects on deathās front porch to saddle up for one last hard desert ride?
Spaniards. Spaniards in Cuba is why. Every able-bodied patriot got on his horse and rode to Cuba to kill him a Spaniard just now. Every cowboy, every lawman, every decent, God-fearing right arm of civilization in the Territory. And behind them every rascal, every lunatic, and every black-hearted outlaw licked his chops considerable. Fox is going to eat well in the hen house tonight.
Well, maybe.
You can still stand up and shoot after a fashion, so maybe not. You may not be the strong right arm of civilization, but your failing mortal vessel and grim resolve are all that stand between things that are good and things that are very bad. It will have to be enough.
ā¦and Iām not super interested in heroic cowboy narratives any more, but I love this setup, the inversion of some tropes, playing syphilitics and sad old people with rheumatic fever and trying to do one last good, kind thing as they not so gradually collapse into death. I really enjoyed researching patent medicines and terrible 19th century diseases. In the drawer it stays for now.