Snippet #1695188

The Stranger continued to drink his cup. He gave a friendly nod to the woman who sat next to him. He didn't want to cause trouble or nothing he just wanted to have some kind of small talk. "You know, when a woman drinks a beer that fast, that means that they're either just plum thirsty or don't like to get messed with." He said with a look that seemed relaxed. "Don't get me wrong I'm not looking for trouble, I just thought on finding some small conversation. I suppose however you don't like it when people talk so I'll hush up."

He quietly started to observe the inn once more and then there was some form of argument between two people and the words increased till suddenly the burlier bandit-type bully drew his six shooter. But before that gun even went to fire it's bullet another shot rang as the gun was knocked clean off the Burly man's hands.

The Stranger blew on the smoking barrel of his six shooter openly glaring at the bandit and his green eyes were really piercing into the burly one's, nearly scaring the poor vomit into taking a leak in his britches. "Try to shoot again I'll shoot to injure, or shoot to kill. That's your choice. Injury or death, that's your choice."

"Careful there son," Walter tried to warn him, "That there's Gunsmoke Paul, he works for-"

"Do I look like I give a damn?" was the reply that the Stranger gave. "This is why I ask for a peaceful hour to drink in my drink. Come on, you got killer in your eyes Pauly I can see it."

"Your funeral. By the way, what did you say your name was again?" Walter asked with curiosity in his voice.

"Name's Wilson. Damian Wilson." was all that the drifter had to say. He slowly placed his gun into his holster.