Slow Down There Pardner! I Ain’t Lookin' to Duel—It’s Just so Cold I Put My Hands in My Front Pockets

Woah there bucko! Git that duelin’ look out yer eyes. Yup, I see yer hand hoverin’ right over yer damn holster, and I ain’t about to end up like Six Finger Frank. You’re saying I’m the one lookin’ for trouble? Slow down! I ain’t lookin’ to duel-- it’s just so cold I had to put my hands in my front pockets.

Now I’ve been wanderin’ these dusty streets I don’t even know how long, and I’m just lookin for a place to settle down for the night. And to be honest, it hadn’t been this cold since ‘82, back when I was russlin’ cattle on the MacFarlane Ranch. So when I felt that eastr’ly wind blow I made due with what I had and what I had was two front jean pockets, in which my hands are now firmly placed. And listen, cowboy, they ain’t budgin’. 

Now I hear ya, I hear ya. Sheriff keeps a keen watch over this town and I ain’t lookin to stir up trouble. But I just don’t want to catch cow-tongue sickness or melancholia or the like and Doc McGithers always says those troubles start at yer fingers. So let me just pass through and I’ll be well on my way. 

I mean, with the New Ye Olde High Rises being built, this town definitely has room for the two of us.