Dear Quantum Jump
I recently heard your fictional isolated incognito Texan law enforcer homage ditty and initially took it to be all about that train station with the very long name in Wales.
Upon closer inspection, however, it sadly appears that you are championing a ’very untogether’ rogue vigilante whose Apache Quarters policing methods leave much to be desired and who is not even above drugging his own horse, (not in the traditional sense of performance-enhancing stimulants so that a 100-1 rank outsider may win the 2.15 at Doncaster) by passing a tote - no pun intended - to Silver.
Indeed, not only does does the demented disguised deviant ''catchee baddy'', hack off the top of his head and eat him up for breakfast in a Hannibal Lecter-like act of inexcusable cannibalism rather than take him in for questioning, he then boasts of ''saving a silver bullet'', clearly indicating the economical non-usage of a precious metal projectile to be directly related to the dispatching not of a hapless Native American tribesman but a werewolf
I put it to you portion pounce pop stars that, far from being celebrated, this is a sadistic and deluded and mounted one man posse, who, together his crazed Comanche side-kick, must be stopped at all costs, preferably hunted at a period within which his mask is on back to fronto
Godspeed my friends. Godspeed
(e) the interaction of indigenous peoples and men in costumes;
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