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The U-Hoo Saloon


The U-Hoo Saloon
The raven-coloured stallion came to a deliberate halt outside of the U-Hoo
Saloon, small spirals of dust swirling around it’s warm hooves as it stood still
and proud. The tall, broad-shouldered stranger dismounted with a weary
groan, and then patted the thick neck of his trusty companion. With heavy
sigh, the stranger removed his well-worn gloves, which he used to slap away
the settled dust from his chaps.
Stretching numbed, aching limbs after his long, lonely ride across the dusty,
merciless plains, his silver spurs making that unmistakable clinking sound as he
stepped up onto the wooden walkway, which shaded him from the heat of the
glowing afternoon sun.
The black-hatted stranger pushed through the two green swing doors of the
U-Hoo Saloon, scanning his slanted eyes around the now silenced bar room.
The crowd stared at him questioningly and the stranger stared back with
similar question in his eyes as he made towards the bar, each leather-booted
foot slapping the dusty floor.
Somewhat nervously, the white-aproned bartender approached the stranger.
‘What’ll be mister?’ The bartender asked, twirling the thin cavalier-like
moustache across his top his lip, which is a good place to have a moustache.
The stranger stared for a moment then pointed to a bottle of whisky. ‘Make
mine a large one.’
‘I can’t do that mister; all the bottles are the same size.’
‘Okay, pour me a whisky then.’
‘New in town stranger?’
‘Now there’s a coincidence, so am I.’
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