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I'll never forget the day Larry rode into our little town of
Brimstone and walked into the Cottonmouth Saloon. He strode up to the bar and smiled straight at the bartender.
"Lemonade, please," he said.
Every head in the place turned to look.
Now, standing next to Larry at the bar was Crooked Curt. Curt was one of a band of rustlers and thieves that had been terrorizing our town, led by a ferocious outlaw named Evil-Eye McNeevil.
Curt was wearing the usual outlaw scowl. Larry turned to him and smiled. "Mighty big frown you got there, mister," he said.
"What's it to you?" growled Curt.
"Well," said Larry, "maybe I could help remove it."
"I'd like to see you try!" said Curt.
The rest of us got out of the way, real fast. The bartender ducked behind the bar. Larry and Curt moved about ten paces from each other, hands at the ready. Larry was still smiling.
Curt moved first. But he only just cleared his gun from its holster before Larry aimed and fired.
Zing!
There was no bang and no bullet. Just a little bolt of light that hit Curt right in the heart.
Curt just stood there, his eyes wide with surprise. Then he dropped his gun, and a huge grin spread over his face. He rushed up to Larry and pumped his hand.
"I'm mighty glad to know you, stranger!" he shouted. "The drinks are on me! Lemonade for everyone!"