[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/PGJWrG8/JackHart.jpg[/img]
[color=39b54a][b]Location:[/b] Saloon[/color] | [color=39b54a][b]Interaction:[/b][@Raylah][@DragonofTheWest][@Nobodyman123][/color][/center]

	Everyone spoke their piece and waited on the sheriff to respond.  In the meantime, Jack's thoughts ran spastic. [color=39b54a][i] No badges?  Devil? We're to blame? Concealed information?  NO BADGES?![/i][/color]  He bit his lip as he pondered the various notions.  He wasn't from this town and had no real ties to it.  He was, however, a current occupant and he had a certain disdain for yellow bellied folk.

	He removed his hat for but a moment to forcefully run his fingers through his hair, scraping his scalp with the tips of his fingernails out of nervous habit.  Returning his hat to his crown, he finally asked aloud, "[color=39b54a]Just what in the fuck is really going on here?[/color]"

	Jack was not the eponymous gunslinger, army of one. As much as he liked to fantasize about being one of those legends in the penny papers, he knew who he really was.  The thought of taking on evil incarnate with a singular sidearm and some communal gumption was discomforting to say the least.  Was the Devil even real?  Was God even real?  Those animated corpses were certainly real, which left Jack with thoughts that could only end in question marks.

	"[color=39b54a]And while we're on the subject of the end of times, are we seriously going to keep charging for liquor or is it understood that those bottles are now a free-of-charge wartime necessity?[/color]"