[center][b][h1][color=green]Charles Starrett[/color][/h1][/b][/center]

[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/hXFgqqW/Cowboy2.jpg[/img][/center]

Location: A day's ride from Armadillo

The sun hung low in the sky as Charles opened the door and walked into the sheriff's office. "Well boss," Charles addressed the older sheriff leaning back in his chair, his feet propped on the old wooden desk. "rounds 'er done. All quiet, like always." He sighed contently as he plopped down on the bench lining the wall.

"That so Charles?" The sheriff replied. "No big gunfights to break up or bank heists to stop?" A sly smile forming.

"Gotta call me Church, Ernie." Charles shot back, emphasizing and drawing out the sheriff's name mockingly. 

The sheriff pulled his feet back and place them on the floor, leaning forward in his chair and narrowed his eyes at Charles. "Boy, ain't nobody every gonna call you that crazy name." The sheriff stood up and sauntered over to Charles and propped one foot up on the bench and leaned over, resting his elbow on his raised up knee. He leaned in close and stared quietly at Charles. "So, how's about a going away drink, Church?" He spat out the name.

For several moments both men just stared at each other before Charles was the first one to break a smile, with the sheriff following suit by letting out a hearty laugh. Charles stood up as the sheriff slapped him playfully on the back. Both men walked over to the sheriff's desk. The sheriff pulled out the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. He placed both glasses on the desk and poured whiskey into both. Both men raising a glass to each other before shooting the brown liquid back into their mouths, letting out a satisfying "oooh".

The sheriff poured two more and once they had finished, put the bottle and glasses away. "Once word gets out," Charles started. "Everyone's gonna be calling me Church. Cause once you see me, I'm sending you to God." The sheriff almost choked he laughed so hard.

"That so?" The sheriff managed to say between laughs. "Well pastor, let's go finish the night for the last time." Charles nodded and followed him out the back door to the office. Behind the office was a makeshift shooting gallery. Bottles stood on top a wooden beam off in the distance. "Best shot keeps the Marlin?" The sheriff asked.

"Hey now!" Charles exclaimed. "That's my damn gun."

The sheriff shook his head. "You were issued that when you became my deputy. So, it's mine to keep or give." As these words left the sheriff's mouth, he quickly drew his Colt and fired off five shots that connected to five different bottles, shattering them. 

Charles grimaced. "That's ok, I guess for an old man." With the he walked inside and returned moments later with the Marlin in his hands. The sheriff stood back as Charles ejected all but two of the .44 bullets that were loaded into the rifle. He smirked at the sheriff, then suddenly, turned his head and unloaded two shots into the distance. Charles then stood the gun up, butt down on the ground, turned towards the sheriff and motioned towards the bottles. The sheriff furrowed his brown in confusion as he walked down range followed behind by Charles.

Upon reaching the bottles the sheriff turned to Charles and shrugged. "The whiskey bottle on the ground." Charles said smugly. 

The sheriff turned and picked up the intact bottle and scoffed. "It wain't even broke. You missed."

"Look through the top." Charles replied. Still confused, the sheriff flipped the bottle over and peered into the opening. His jaw dropped in shock as he saw a bullet hole through the bottom. The sheriff looked up at Charles then slowly turned and looked at the wooden beam the bottle had previously sat on and shook his head and laughed. Charles had shot the wood below the bottle causing it to fall, then shot a bullet through the opening and out the bottom. 

"Damned show off." The sheriff said. "You know, the men you're gonna be going after will probably be faster shots." He paused and placed his hand on Charles' shoulder in concern. "Just don't be gettin' into no duels out in?" The sheriff trailed off.

"Armadillo." Charles replied. "Plenty of bounties out there. Gonna make enough to buy this little town out from under ya'"

"I hope so son." The sheriff replied patting Charles' shoulder. "Let's go finish that whiskey. You'll have a nice long ride to sober up tomorrow."