cityspaceship
Where I come from, we donβt believe in pacifism. We believe in getting even. With the paper moon, pinprick stars and papier-mΓ’chΓ© mountains as my witnesses, Iβm callinβ out the bandits who killed my Pa. Under the blue moon I will slay the people who did me wrong. And all I need is my gun, my horse, and an infuriatinβ and handsome jerk to do it. Sure, me and that handsome idiot will brew up some unintentional trouble and wreak some accidental havoc along the way, but youβd better watch out, bandits. Because you wronged me, and Iβm here to collect my seven pounds of flesh. Revenge is a dish best served off the barrel of my smokinβ gun. Any last words?