Tumbleweed rolls in the distance as the non diegetic western plays in the background.

Susan stands before the outlaw, hands shaking as she points the gun in his direction.

He smiles; a cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth, his sun bronzed skin shaded by the rim of his hat. He stands with confidence, his boots firmly on the ground, his spurs glistening in the midday light.

Susan has never done this before, she’s not sure what she’s doing at all. She’s just a simple barmaid. She never expected to find an outlaw on her lunch break. 

The outlaw reaches down for his holster, an evil look in his eye. He stares right into her soul as he says the words “take your shot stranger. You’ll only get one.”