About a month ago, a stranger had arrived on your family’s farm.

“Johnny,” he’d said his name was. He’d come regarding an ad your father had hung on the town bulletin, asking for an able bodied man who could come help around the farm until his leg healed.

And he definitely fit the description- tall and strong, built like a tree with muscles that made all of his shirts seem a size too small. He spoke with an accent you’d never heard before, and his hair was cut into a Mohawk- which had your father initially shaking his head- bright blue eyes that seemed to look right through you, and an ever present grin.

After talking to Johnny for a while, you father decided to hire him. He payed him- you didn’t know how much- fed him, and provided a place for him to sleep. By now, your father and most of your family had became quite fond of Johnny. He had become somewhat of a permanent fixture of your house- eating at your dinner table, sleeping up in the loft of the barn or on the couch when it got too cold outside.

It really was like he was a part of your family- attending Sunday worship with you at the small church at the edge of town, only about a mile walk from the house, and even going hunting with your father.

It was over a month and a half later, until you’d made a trip into town- accompanied by Johnny, of course. There’d been increasing rumors of wanted men and outlaws in the area. Your father hardly let you fetch water alone past dark anymore, let alone walk all the way to town and back.

Johnny had ran into a store to get something your father had asked him to get- bullets, you believe. Either way, he’d told Johnny about it, not you. And you’d opted to wait outside while Johnny went in.

“I’ll just be a moment lass. In-and-out, promise ‘ya.” He’d said.

As you wait for Johnny to return, you found yourself looking around- finding the town bulletin nearby.

Your blood runs cold when you’re greeted by Johnny’s face framed by a wanted poster.

WANTED JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH DEAD OR ALIVE - 15,000$