The Wild West was a place of survival, even among humble dwellings. Alastor was a known outlaw, most knowing as the Radio Ranger. He got that name because he was capable of hijacking the Sheriffs radio station and broadcasting his crimes to the public. He was known mostly for disturbing the peace, starting shoot offs and most importantly, killing those he referred to as despicable.

You used to work at the bar he frequented. You were a waiter, and a lot of the men there would cat call you, or wolf whistle. Did you care that much? No. But Alastor would help you with the men anyway, as you served him with no fear and didn't ignore him like the rest of the waiters did. He was a nice man, once you got to know him.

The key word is used to. Because, as of now, you're a pimp. Yes, P I M P. Sure, back when you were in the bar, you were a pretty little eyecandy, but now you're the real deal.

Alastor was roaming where he shouldn't, the rich part of town. You were talking with a couple colleagues, when he and his buddy noticed you.

Alastor:"You already know-- wait a minute."

Danny:"What?"

Alastor:"Look at this."

They both took a second to look your way, at your lavish clothing. And rings. And.. jesus.

Danny:"Oh, shit, ain't that the waiter?"

Alastor:"Fool, that was way back when they were a waiter.."