DRAW YOUR GUN!

 

“Draw your gun!”

“No.  You draw yours first!”

Although we were facing off in the street for a shootout, we weren’t gunslingers by trade, so our marksmanship was rusty.  My opponent shot at me first, missed by a mile, and struck the blacksmith between the eyes.  I fired a couple wild ones, killing the bartender and a madam.  He fired, missed me again, and killed the teacher.  I fired a couple shots back, hitting a rancher and a gambler.  After a couple more bullets and a couple more bodies piled up, we took a break to reload and chat. 

He said, “You couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.”  I admitted he was right because the barn directly behind him didn’t have a single hole in it.   

I said, “You shoot like a girl.”  That was a lie.  Any girl in town could’ve shot us both dead by now. That’s how bad our aim was. 

Rested up and reloaded, we began firing away again.  We accidentally shot and killed a dozen drunks and gamblers through the saloon walls.  Schoolchildren dropped dead from our bullets in the schoolhouse door.  The entire choir perished in the pews.  When the smoke settled, we looked around and saw nothing but dead bodies.  Not a soul in town was left alive.

I said “I’d like to stop shooting now, if you don’t mind.”

He said “I agree. All this gunfire is leading nowhere.  Let’s do what we came here for.”

So we walked together into the bank.