The fastest draw in the West.(Kevin Hughes) Slim lit a cigarette off of his boot. At almost six foot three but only weighing in at one hundred and thirty pounds…well, “slim” was an adjective as well as a name. He narrowed his eyes to look out of the shadows he lurked in. He stopped breathing for a second. Not daring to make a move. After all, as deadly as his reputation was, the man he was hunting had a much more dangerous (and deserved) reputation.

Luckily, Slim was only a “lookout” this time. He slithered out of the shadow and around the back of the Saloon. He approached the big, broad, man, who seemed to be as wide as he was tall. Their eyes met. Slim flicked his eyes towards the door to the saloon:

“He’s coming down the street.”

The Big…wide…man…smiled.

Slim went out back, snuck around to his horse, and never looked back. Whatever happened, he didn’t want to be around when the Survivor decided to clean up loose ends. The Big…wide…man…had given him a twenty dollar gold piece for identifying the man coming down the street. That was all the payment Slim was willing to risk. On his way out of Town he wondered:

“Maybe Judas was right to take less.”

The dust from his horses hooves was just settling back down when the stranger opened the saloon doors.

The Big…wide…man, already had both his guns out. He was standing facing the saloon door…nobody else moved. Either out of fear…or curiosity. The Big…wide…man…would give only one warning when those doors opened:

“Draw!”

*****

“Draw!”

Was all the stranger heard when he opened the door to the saloon. One hand flashed out of habit. The other was still tapping his hat against his chaps to knock off the remains of the trail. Witnesses swear they only heard one shot. One.

But... one shot…one… does not make six bullet holes. At least not in the shape of a heart over the actual heart of the Big…wide…man.

Nobody moved. The Big…wide…man…would never move again. The stranger looked around the room. Deadly grey eyes searching each man. Seeing them for what they really were: coward, bully, or just honest men spending an honest dollar. He let his revolver cool. Never taking his eyes from the men standing silently around the bar…he loaded his gun. He spun it so fast that men just saw a silver circle with a white slice on its spinning disk.

He slipped his gun back into its holster.

He tapped the Big…wide…dead man with his boot.

“Who was he?”

A small voice came out of the Bartender:

“That there Big…wide…man...was the fastest draw in the West.”

The Stranger smiled.

“Apparently not.”

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