Red Dead Online's role-play servers have clearly broken my brain, but I'm just happy to be saving the Wild West as a flamboyant gentlemen vigilante

The following preface is intended for reader clarity: member of staff Joel Franey was asked to go into Red Dead Online to bring back some understanding about the state of role play servers, as well as the state of the game in 2025. For better or worse, the following was submitted to the editor's desk:

THE INCREDIBLE SERIALIZED ADVENTURES OF THE PUCE PAMPLEMOUSSE – Chapter 1: The Rose Arose!

My adventures in the lawless lands of the Americas began in the sordid town of Saint Denis, where I was ready to make my mark on this wild, untamed world. For I was not merely Lord Percy Knickerbocker (weary editor's note: a fictional character), handsome bachelor and heir to the fine Knickerbocker country estate that bordered the quaint English village of Bumbling-On-Pleasantly.

No, I had a second, secret identity: I was the pastel paragon, here to bring justice in its highest form to the tea-spurning US of A! Whether you call this land the Wild West, the New Frontier, or "Red Dead Online" (I'm still not entirely sure what people mean by that name), I was the crusader clad in coral-cum-carnation coloration, the dazzling dogwood-dyed derringer-dealing debonair dilletante of derring-do known to the world only as The Puce Pamplemousse!

But that would come later. For now though I would stay in the persona of Lord Percy, blending amongst the common folk in an ordinary top hat and tailcoat, at least until my other self was needed. But venturing off the dock into the city proper atop my trusted steed, Hampton, I saw that my shining example could not come too soon. Drunken debauchery, in hovels of ill-repute! Ruffians loitering in the streets to no productive purpose! Unabashed use of the French language, and in public, no less! One woman even offered to show me her ankle at an agreed-upon price! Clearly the inspirational heroism of the strawberry swashbuckler would be needed in this blighted land. But where to start my noble crusade?

A young lad was stationed at a street corner nearby, purveying the latest periodicals. I accepted his offer gratefully, studying the headlines, searching for an evil worthy of my smiting.

“They’s worried there’s gonna be war in Europe,” observed the newspaper boy.

“Don’t be foolish,” I admonished him. “Why, just the other day I read that none less than Archduke Franz Ferdinand himself said that he would see such a war happen ‘over his dead body’.”

Suddenly I spotted far more pressing news further down the page. “Bandits attack Blackwater?” The peach fire of justice began to burn within my loins, and in a flash I knew where I was needed.

I paid the boy for his paper. “Much obliged. 'Ay, you wouldn’t happen to have any candy on ya, would you?” His expression was hopeful even as he pocketed the money.

“Candy," I said sternly, "is not well-suited to a boy’s health. Take these cigarettes and this cocaine gum instead.” I pushed the packs into his hands, saddling up Hampton a moment later. “And make sure you finish them both!”

And then I was away, Hampton's hooves digging furrows in the ground as I left the borders of the gaudy city and surrendered myself to the wilderness. My pearl-handled pistols, Bangers and Mash, were ready at my belt for whatever we might find – or at least, so I thought.

Chapter 2: Magenta? I 'ardly know 'er!

Before long I was circling around the dusty, plain-dwelling town known as Blackwater, a place of unvarnished wood and cow-adjacent folk of all stripes. I laid low in the brush, sipping brandy as I waited, loyal Hampton grazing as we waited for the bandit blaggards to strike.

We did not have to wait long – a dozen such ne'er-do-wells came whooping from the brush not long after sunset, all on horseback, firing guns into the air. I recognized the leader even at a distance from a Bounty poster that had been pinned in town: a burly, unkempt fellow who the sheriffs knew only as "the Butcher", perhaps because his ruddy complexion was suggestive of a diet in excess of red meat.

As the first shots rang across Blackwater, I knew it was time to make my debut! I adorned the Pamplemousse's soon-to-be iconic plumed hat and domino mask, and marched into town with a no-nonsense air modelled upon the iron countenance of my childhood governess, Mrs Splintercane.

"Now see here!" I ejaculated at the Butcher and his band, who were in that moment doing something most objectionable to an unhappy clerk. "I'm sure that we can all settle this like gentleman, but should you insist upon this most unsettled behavior, I should warn you that I am a student of the Marquis of Queensbury and know a thing or two about the art of honorable fisticu-"

The barrage of retaliatory gunfire was a summary response, and I was forced to dive for cover behind a low wall. The pink pioneer does not seek violence, but never flinches from it! Bangers and Mash both went to work, sending two of the odious brutes to Judgement in an instant, even as the rest of them made for their own cover. The Butcher's black hat had been blown away in the fracas, terror and rage wracking his ghastly features as he took up a stubby, blood-smeared shotgun.

“This looks like a job for the Puce Pamplemousse!” I rallied myself with a cry, and rose up to fire upon the villains again. Several more went down, but egads! Another scoundrel came in riding a tawny horse from the flank, knocking me down and catching me unawares, but I managed to fire from the hip and blow him away before he could do the same to me.

Yet in the midst of this muddle the Butcher and his foul crew had managed to reorient themselves, and were using the distraction to close in on me. My guns had run dry, and I knew I would not be able to reload fast enough. As the butcher leapt out with his shotgun, ready to cut me down, I knew my crusade was coming to an end just as soon it had begun!

I steadied myself, yet death did not come. A shot rang out, but it was not from the Butcher's gun. From a nearby rooftop, a shadowy figure with a long rifle had fired, and the Butcher himself went down with a smoking hole in his back. The rest of the reprobates panicked, unready for this fresh assault, and I saw my chance: Banger banged and Mash mashed, and the Butchers of Blackwater were no more.

I got to my feet, brushing myself off with my palms. I should have been pleased that lawlessness had fallen to the forces of fuchsia once again, but I knew the figure who had saved me, and there was no good feeling left. For I recognized the blood-red duster that my savior had worn, recognized the black moustache and beady eyes. For you see, dear reader, my choice to become the orchid avenger was not only so that evil be stopped, but also because I knew all-too-well about the dark machinations of its existing would-be-champions.

"So very much like you to depend upon the help of others, Lord Percy," said the rifleman as he emerged from an alleyway.

"And so very much like you to shoot a man in the back, Lord Branston Pickle," I replied, glaring down my nose at him. We circled each other warily, as powerful as the mighty foxes of Slough.

"Oh, I have a new nom de plume now," said Branston. "You think the Puce Pamplemousse is going to save America from itself? No, my naive friend. The United States needs a strong hand. It can only be brought back from the brink by… The Red Leicester!"

(Author's note)

… Or at least, I'm pretty sure that's how it all happened. Role-playing in Red Dead Online is clearly doing something to my brain that I doubt anybody could claim is objectively good, but I can't deny it's a fun experience. RDO was always framed as far more of a sim than its sibling GTA Online, for better or worse, and clearly something about this frontier world works a lot better when you go in ready to meet it halfway on the fantasy – which admittedly, is not always the easiest thing to do.

Still, after years seemingly abandoned by its creators, the fact that there may suddenly be more life in the game yet with these new updates is as good a reason as any for Lord Percy to ride again. After all, they say the Red Leicester has been seen in the Heartland plains beyond Valentine, and who else is going to stop him… ?

Need a further fix of old-timey escapades? Find out all the best games like Red Dead Redemption!