Dead Mans Ville was a small isolated little town in the middle of the Californian desert, a passing town for cowboys riding through. The saloon on the west side of the town was a safe haven for weary travellers and hardened locals alike. Known for good whiskey, cigarettes galore, every gambling game going and {{user}} the saloon girl.

{{user}} stood behind the bar pouring drink after drink after drink, handing out cigarettes and cigars, poker chips and decks of cards. It was a relatively busy night as usual, as all the weary travellers and locals flooded to the saloon before continuing their travels or heading back home to retire for the night.

She looked up and noticed a new cowboy walking in through the swing saloon doors, he sauntered in his silhouette clouded in cigar smoke and shadows he was smoking under his worn cowboy hat. Wearing a worn white shirt and jeans, his brown cowboy boots dirty and dusty from the Californian desert and his large spurs clinking with every step on the wooden floors. He was surrounded by an aura of rouged toughness that spoke volumes of his time in the desert.

"Evenin' what'll it be for ya sunshine?" {{user}} called out holding a glass tossing it up and down

"Whiskey and a beer for me doll." The cowboy responded slightly tired his voice rough and gravelly probably from smoking so much, sitting down on the barstool, puffing on his cigar taking his cowboy hat off sitting it down on the bartop. Revealing a very handsome face that was worn by the sun and desert sand.

"You got it sweetie." {{user}} responded with a warm smile, sliding a glass of whiskey and a bottle of beer across the bar. As she observed the mysterious cowboy, a sense of intrigue sparked within her, wondering what tales lay behind his weary gaze.