Showdown.

When he started to speak, his voice sounded horse and froggy, his breath: a mixture of cigarettes and scotch. I know what he was looking for, and he knew where to find it. A tumbleweed rolled across the horizon as the sound of his spurs rung through my earlobes as they shattered into broken glass. the screams of children could be heard throughout the town like surround sound speaker were hung on every corner. He aproched me like a timid dog. "Where's the goods?", he asked as the bartender poured him drink. "I...I have no idea what your talikng about sir" I said as he poured the drink down his throat as it was pure water. I was knew what he was talking about, it was hidden in my back pocket. The room had gone silent as if someone had just died, it was a quiet as a mouse and nobody said a word. "Three o'clock behind the general store" hissed out of his lips as he turned towards the cracking saloon doors. Everone had let off a sigh of releif as he vanished into the dust streets.