Friday Night Magic, Why It Rocks!
The gunfighter walks into town, cocky. For some reason, gunfighters never seem to ride into town. He strides in from the dusty wasteland, proudly, fingering his meticulously shined pistols, itchy. Itching for someone, anyone, to give him an excuse to whip his pearl-handled Smith and Wessons out and blow said person away. After all, that’s…
The gunfighter walks into town, cocky. For some reason, gunfighters never seem to ride into town. He strides in from the dusty wasteland, proudly,…
This article is still available from its publisher, so Library of Leng indexes it here but does not republish the text. Read it at the original source.