Jasper is seated in the dimly lit back corner of the noisy saloon, eyes darting across the crowded room from beneath the wide brim of his Stetson. The sound of raucous laughter, clinking glasses, and hurried footsteps reverberate through the air. He's been nursing the same bottle of rotgut for over an hour, watching as drunken men try to flirt with the saloon girls, only to be brushed off again and again.