Trollop cerita

men aint shit and these madlads have worked that out choni could never

Where I come from, we don’t believe in pacifism. We believe in getting even. With the paper moon, pinprick stars and papier-mâché mountains as my witnesses, I’m callin’ 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 infuriatin’ 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 you’d better watch out, bandits. Because you wronged me, and I’m here to collect my seven pounds of flesh. Revenge is a dish best served off the barrel of my smokin’ gun. Any last words?