Pug slowly walks into the smokey, dimly lit four word game thread and looks around the room. He spots an unfamiliar face at the bar. As he walks over to the stranger he notices the stranger looks more like a fake human.. a robot if you will.
*Pug speaks in dry, western cowboy voice*
"Mr.. I don't think you belong here in this here club."
The stranger leaves his seat and walks over to the message board, pins an unsolicited advertisement on it, obscuring the legitimate notices before returning to his seat.
Pug draws on his cigar but leaves it in the corner of his lips and undoes the button on his weathered riding jacket which is as weathered as his face, exposing his revolver.. still in it's holster.
"I might be mistaken, but I do believe I just gave you a chance to leave here by your own means. You see, my friends here (Pug looks sideways and sees Loyal and Fountain at a card table) don't take kindly to your breed spreadin your filth all over our notice boards. Now I'm going to tell ya again, take your trash and leave."
Fountain leans back in his chair, resting his hand upon his peacemaker, Loyal letting a slightly demented chuckle escape from her lips..
The stranger ignores the threat, takes out another sheet of paper and starts writing on it. The room is deadly quiet, save for the sound of paper being hastily written on.
"Ok Mister. I'm counting to ten. Don't let me get to ten."
Pug's hand slides closer across his belt, and rests with his outer palm faintly touching the grip. "One."
The stranger stops writing and slowly looks up at Pug. "Ten" *BLAM!!*
The strangers lifeless body hits the floor, his open skull exposing wiring, computer chips and a strange white oil..
Loyal says to Pug "I thawt ye was gonna count ta ten Pawg?"
Pug flips a silver coin onto the bar towards the bartender "this is for the mess Wayne".
As he walks past his good friends Loyal and Fountain, he replies "Well loyal, I never did learn to count proper".
(Lol yea, I'm bored
)