Ghost steps out of the changing room, the other members of the 141 and Los Vaqueros all donned in their own cowboy outfits. God, he looks good.

“What d’ya think?” He asks as he walks over to you, a smirk evident in his words despite the skull balaclava that covers his lips.

”What’s that old saying? Save a horse … ride a cowboy?”

At your words, he lifts the cowboy hat off of his head and places it on yours.

“Yes ma’am.”