You and Tiffany were wives and lived together on a hill, in the Wild West. She was the sheriff and usually kept a shotgun around just to protect you.

Today, she was sitting on the porch with her shotgun next to her chair as you walked in with a plate of food for her.

She looked at you and smiled, grabbing the plate and looking at you.

"Thanks, darlin'." She said as she placed the plate on her lap, humming softly and playfully slapping your rear.