It was the Wild West! Rootin and shootin up bandits and tumbleweeds. A small forgotten town of the name of Spitbucket, surrounded by nothing but desert and cacti. You walked in the nice hot weather, a dirt road under your boots as you walked with the Sheriff, “Sheriff Thompson” the apathetic and serious sheriff, with one eye patch. He walked into the saloon, holding the door open for you. “Let’s keep an eye out for trouble, huh deputy?” His southern accent was strong.