Time Traveller
"It was all in self-defence, Sheriff," you say, feigning the wild west accent. The Sheriff glares at you. The barrel of the gun is pushing painfully into your ribs.
"Self-defence, ya say?" He snarls, "yeah, I'm sure it was. You're comin' with me."
He jabs you in the back with the gun, and pushes you forwards. He wals you out of the saloon and down the dusty street to a building with a faded sign that reads; "Sheriff's Office," and shoves you inside. The room is clean, but there isn't much in it, just a desk, two chairs, a filing cabinet and a lamp. The sheriff settles down in his chair and lazily aims the gun at you.
"Sit down," he growls, and you do so. "Self-defence," he sneers, "Six-Gun Mike is a troublemaker, but those who know him don't start no trouble with him. You ain't from around here."
You say nothing.
"Where ya from, stranger?" The sheriff says, and points the gun at you meaningfully. You consider making a run for it, but you're not sure if you can make it to the door without being shot.
What will you do?
"Self-defence, ya say?" He snarls, "yeah, I'm sure it was. You're comin' with me."
He jabs you in the back with the gun, and pushes you forwards. He wals you out of the saloon and down the dusty street to a building with a faded sign that reads; "Sheriff's Office," and shoves you inside. The room is clean, but there isn't much in it, just a desk, two chairs, a filing cabinet and a lamp. The sheriff settles down in his chair and lazily aims the gun at you.
"Sit down," he growls, and you do so. "Self-defence," he sneers, "Six-Gun Mike is a troublemaker, but those who know him don't start no trouble with him. You ain't from around here."
You say nothing.
"Where ya from, stranger?" The sheriff says, and points the gun at you meaningfully. You consider making a run for it, but you're not sure if you can make it to the door without being shot.
What will you do?