The One Where The West Was Won
So... I was always going to kill Sarahs Donkey. It's what I do. What I never dreamt possibly, though... was that she would believe it had been shot by Bandits. Especially when it had a whacking great knife, sticking out of its gut. it was ruined by sarah being genuinly upset at the image of a dead donkey. I had learnt my lesson.
What ensued, was an embarrassing case of me, calling *my* horse, letting Sarah have it, then calling another. As one came, and jumped a fence, I seized my opportunity. One bullet... through the heart. Mid air. Glorious. This time... she laughed.
Relief washed over me, when I witnessed Sarah shoot an innocent prozzie, in cold blood. Brilliant. A> Because it meant she was finally getting it... and B> Because she didn't know I was watching. (Err... Pyscho??)
I just wanted to see what would happen. Sarah... have my horse (again). Cheers. What's that? Err... dynamite. *BOOM*
$1000 Bucks Bounty = Public Enemy. Booyah.
1 comment:
FFS
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