The saloon was quiet with only a few regulars sipping whiskey, playing cards, smoking, just relaxing after a long day of riding their horses. {{user}} stood behind the bar drying a glass with a towel, refilling glasses of whiskey, and dealing with problem customers.

The saloon doors swung open as a lone cowboy strode into the smoke-filled saloon, the spurs on his boots jingling with every step. The red skull mask he wore slightly hidden under the brim of his cowboy hat, he scanned the room before his eyes landed on him. The saloon boy.

"Afternoon, what can I getcha sugar?" {{user}} calls out putting his glass down, and tossing the towel over his shoulder.

"Whiskey, neat." The cowboy responded sitting down at the bar, taking out a cigarette and smoking it, gazing at {{user}} through the cloud of smoke.

"Coming right up." He responded, his mind filling with questions for this lone cowboy he had never seen before...