A shot glass slammed down onto the bar, a somewhat repulsive belch following the sound of the glass. A lone man sat at the bar; His gruff looks and unclean face not marking him as presentable as some would prefer. Raising a hand, he scratched his slowly growing beard; Noticing it seemed a little crusty. Small flakes from gecko hides giving his beard odd green sprinkles in his facial hair. The hand fell the table, as he glared past his drink and at the woman on the other side. 

"C'mon, Trudy. Just give me the damn bottle." He demanded, not being good at socializing. He was mostly hot air, but when the man got mad, he caused a mess. Trudy knew this, but stubbornly refused to give in to him, instead just shaking her head, arms crossed under her breast.

"I don't think so." Trudy replied, the motion of her head stopping. "You can't afford it; And you know it."

[i]'Damn facts.'[/i] The man thought to himself, raising his hands as he attempted to convince her; "Come on; I'll bring in something of value today. I'll make it up to ya." He was pleading, needing a bit of a drink to get him through the day. He wasn't usually desperate; But when it came to his whiskey, he was like a dog begging for scraps. And in this world, people liked their scraps.

"You said that last time; And what'd you bring me?" Trudy questioned, cutting the man off before he could answer. "A couple of shells, and a magazine about a woman in a gimp suit." She added, making her point clear, somewhat harshly.

Hand slamming on the table, the man stood. "That was some perfectly good fucking material! You gave me two damn caps for it, you scam artist." He grumbled, irritated at the barkeep. Trudy was a good person; But when it came to alcohol she had to be a bitch about it.

"And only that because I could bribe Chet with it." She retorted, sighing.

The man paused, surprised he hadn't thought of that. Not willing to admit he thought that was smart, he decided to be rude instead: "Give me the bottle, Trudy. I'll pay you back!" He said as he reached for the bottle himself; Only for Trudy to smack his hand and cause him to retreat.

"Don't make me get Sunny in here." Trudy threatened, eyes narrow.

As she said those words; A figure covered in leather armor rounded the corner, approaching them with slight caution. "No need." She said, looking down at the man at the bar with an irritated expression.

"Sunny!" He said, excitedly. He observed her face, grinning. "You aren't living up to your name again; Put that pretty smile on-"

Pausing as a gun was pointed his way, he stared up at the woman with wide eyes.

"Anderson." Sunny said, plainly.

"Listen. That's not needed." The man, Anderson, replied. His hands slowly raising.

"Could've fooled me." Sunny replied, keeping her aim. "You don't need to be putting your hands on Trudy, or her wares without her permission. I don't want to hurt you, but I will." She threatened, noting he was the only other worthwhile gunhand in town, but too much trouble for his own good sometimes. She backed away slightly as he stood up, standing a head taller than her; She knew he was even more dangerous with his hands than a gun; He'd torn a gecko clean into pieces after his sister died. She'd never forget that horrible sight.

"Alright, alright, I get it." Anderson replied, smirking. "You just want me to yourself, that's fine." 

Lowering her gun, Sunny shook her head, not amused by him taking another pass at her. "Just mind yourself, alright? I'm on edge with this Powder Ganger situation; I don't want to have to worry about someone behind me when there's enough trouble up front." She explained, seeming tired. Her expression marked that she'd been stressed; But was trying to stay herself. She was, for the most part, having a difficult time. 

"I'd be behind you any day." Anderson replied, giving a thumbs' up.

And this guy was only making it worse. With a groan, she shook her head. "You're kind of a pain." She said, honestly. But she was cracking a smile, regardless. One thing Anderson was good at was making her smile on occasion.

"I try." Anderson said as he lowered his hand, slipping it into his pocket. "I suppose if I'm gonna get a drink, I better get out there and find something." He said with acceptance, nodding to the two women as he walked by Sunny; Only to smack her on the ass and make her jump. He broke into a fit of laughter, but soon started having a small coughing fit as he attempted to get out of the store.

"Damn it!" Sunny cursed, turning. "You do that again and I'm actually going to shoot you." 

"Same threat, different day!" Anderson called out, pushing the saloon doors open and taking his leave with a grin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rolling along, Victor was taken by surprise as he saw someone coming down old boot hill; That same man he had found the other night. Stopping in his tracks and turning, he waved one of his arms and greeted the man with a "Howdy Pardner!"

Noting the look of the man as he approached, Victor would have cringed at the scar if he could have. "Might I say yer' lookin' fit as a fiddle?" He complimented, honest for a guy that had just popped out of his own grave with a hole in his head just a few days prior. Impressive, really. Victor was happy to meet a man with enough will and endurance to survive such a thing.