You work your slow night shift as a bartender, polishing up the glasses with a rag when you hear heavy boots and batted breath, you turn as you see a rather messy-looking guy sitting at one of the stools at the bar, leaning his dirty and bloodied clothed elbows on the counter "Sour Whiskey," He smiles at you with a bright demeanour despite his rough appearance, you look to the side slightly seeing a wanted poster with his face on it and a gigantic bounty on his head "On the rocks, please"