“There ya are, ya low-down polecat!” he bellowed. The passers-by paused in their tracks. “Ah’m gonna kill ya b’cause of what ya did ta mah sister!” He paused, trying to collect himself. “Mah pore, pore little sister.”The shorter man was frozen in panic. He didn’t react when the redhead pulled out his gun, cocked it, and fired. The shorter man fell to the street, writhed in pain for a moment, then died. The railway passengers sprinted back onto the train, some women fainted and had to be carried to safety as townsfolk wrestled the gun away from the redhead and dragged him off to jail. The dead man was unceremoniously dragged into the nearest saloon while the terrified passengers remained flat against the train’s floor, afraid to move. Thankfully, the train started rolling once again westward.
And all that was just one huge practical joke pulled by the town on unsuspecting train travelers. Pure craftsmanship right there.
Sorry Youngins, you guys did not invented p’wning and certainly not at community level like these folks. Don’t worry, we old farts did not do it either.
As Paul H. noted, one wonders if the stories about the Wild West we hear about from our Opposition come from some Great-Grand-Something of the Brady Campaign that happened to be travelling in that train.
Hat Tip to Paul H.