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YOUR ASS IS GRASS, TENOR
| Step 2) fill the room with carbon monoxide
| Well damn boy, you just signed a death sentence
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| You done messed with the wrong cowboy, boy. Meet me at decons graveyard at dusk. They'll be a grave waitin, and we're bouta see who's it belongs to. If you no show, we'll shoot you in the head while your asleep.
*click* *!BANG!* *shoots your store shop sign and makes it flip over*
See ya later, for the last time
*rides off on a brilliant black horse whose sheen was mesmerizing in the noon sun, and who's gallop echoed death with every thud*