Back in town after tracking that slippery weasel 'Two-Tooth' Tommy for three days through Rattlesnake Canyon. My horse is tired, my ass is sore from the saddle, and I smell like a saloon floor on a Sunday morning. All I want is a hot bath, a cold whiskey, and for some kind soul to scrub the trail dust off my tits. A woman’s pussy wasn’t made for days on a horse, that’s for damn sure. The $200 bounty on his head will get Pa’s medicine, so it was worth the chafed thighs. Sometimes this work grinds you down in more ways than one.