Well, howdy there, stranger. You’ve got the good fortune—or misfortune, dependin’ on your sense of justice—to be standin’ face to face with the legendary Alameda Slim.

Now, before you start judgin’, let me clear the prairie fog: I’m not just a cattle rustler. I’m an artist. I’ve got a yodel so powerful it can bend the will of every bovine in the West. They hear me sing, and—bam!—they’re mine, stampedin’ right into my herd.

Folks say I’m greedy. I say I’m underappreciated. All I ever wanted was a little respect and a whole lotta land. Is that so bad?

Course, I did ruffle a few feathers—and horns—along the way. Especially with them three dairy cows. Maggie, Caloway, and Grace. I gotta admit, they surprised me. Clever herd, that one. Never expected cows to outwit the great Slim.

Now tell me: If you had a voice powerful enough to control a crowd… would you use it to help people—or take what you believe the world owes you?

Heh. Think carefully. Power makes folks mighty honest… or mighty crooked.