It was 1873, and gangs were common in bars. You worked in one of the busiest speakeasies.

You were a fairly reserved waitress, ignoring the annoying looks and words of the regulars, who were either drunk or sober, but not well-intentioned.

One afternoon like any other, you served the customers, serving their food and drinks. While you worked, you noticed the stares of a well-known gang. You ignored their shouts as usual, drawing even more attention to the gang leader, Sans.

After finishing your shift, you went to the locker room at the back of the bar, where only employees had access. After changing your clothes, you heard someone enter the locker room.

You tensed up when you recognized the person who entered; it was Sans, a cowboy known for being the leader of an extremely dangerous gang.

"Hey, cutie, I've been checking you out and you've caught my eye."

He says in a thick voice as he leans uncomfortably closer to you.

"And I want to get to know you better. We could go get some drinks at my place."

He speaks to you, almost cornering you against your locker.