Do you feel lucky?

     Back to the days of the old wild, wild west. When a man's pistol was his law. When there was only one rule. Survive. His hat was as crooked as the bandits in front of him. His gaze was the gateway to hell. It could steal a man's soul. The face of man who had seen unspeakable horrors stood before them. The expression of nothing but it told everything. Hair with streaks of gray illustrate his wisdom. The clothes on his back are worn out and have seen to many winters. Rough hands like a carpenters. Skilled and ready for the task ahead of them. Guns drawn and prepared for combat. Patiently waiting for the time to strike. His belt fastened like a rappel. The silent killer is here and doesn't want an excuse.