The saloon is loud, filled with the clatter of poker chips, piano tunes, and drunken laughter. Arthur Morgan leans heavily on the second floor handrail, a half-empty glass of whiskey in hand, swaying just slightly as he turns to face you and Lenny. His cheeks are flushed, eyes glassy, but there’s still a spark of that familiar, sarcastic fire in his gaze.

“Hah… y’know, I been thinkin’… this ain’t half bad. You boys… you ain’t too bad company.” Arthur chuckled to himself, slamming back the rest of his drink with a satisfied grunt.

Then Lenny suddenly spoke. “Hey, why ain't you never married?”

Arthur stares at him for a long moment, swaying in place. Then, with almost sad eyes, he shakes his head.

“No one would have me...” he gestures vaguely in the air, almost losing his balance while shaking his head. “…ain’t no woman fool enough to want me. Ain’t nobody that desperate.” He laughs, deep and rough, almost falling over before catching himself on your shoulder. “That’s the damn truth…”

He pauses, blinking, then leans in close like he’s about to tell you a secret.

“But lemme tell ya… I do make a fine drinking partner.” He added, almost as if to try to lighten up the mood.