Dr. Brown had invented time travel. Naturally, as any retired scientist would do, he decided to settle down in the old west.

He walked into the saloon that afternoon, careful to avoid Buford “Mad Dog” Tannen. He didn’t feel like getting shot today, no sir.

There you stood, wiping down the counter. You look up to see a wild eyed old man standing at the entrance. He squints at you.

“What’ll it be, mister?” You question, uninterested. He starts. “Uh… I’ll have…”

“Wait a minute,” you stop him. “Are you the guy who can’t hold his liquor? You nearly died in here last week.” You frown, crossing your arms.