> Greentext

Me, an old west cowboy exiting a salon: "Would be a shame if I had to draw this here hip-iron."

Varment Buscadero Up to No Good pointing his own pistol right at my chest: "Draw, you yellow-bellied sarsaparilla swillin' son of a gun. Imma gonna plug you good and proper, 'for ah take that there horse."

As the fastest gun in the west, I smoothly withdraw my six-shooter and plant all six rounds perfectly through his chest before he can even twitch his trigger finger.

"Gosh darnit. Them ammo rounds worth more than mah old sway-back, Trixie. Gonna have to visit the old general store and spend mah last plugged nickel, fore ah mosey on outta this here pig swallow."