It was the early morning of February 2nd, 1836. Quite a commotion could be heard coming from Colonel Travis’ office, then a slam. Jim Bowie came angrily stomping out of Tavis’ office, crumpling up some sort of paper and throwing it behind him. Bowie continued to mumble to himself as he walked towards the nearby cantina.

“I need a goddamn drink. Travis doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about…”