INT. WILD WEST SALOON.
THE TOMBSTONE KID IS LEANING NONCHALANTLY AGAINST THE BAR, HIS HAT SLOUCHED DOWN OVER HIS EYES, WITH A CIGAR IN HIS MOUTH, A SHOT GLASS IN HIS HAND AND A BOTTLE IN FRONT OF HIM.
A STRANGER IN A BLACK HAT ENTERS, HIS PISTOL HUNG LOW ON HIS HIP. HE IS NERVOUS AND TWITCHY.
STRANGER
Hey you.
THE KID DOES NOT REACT.
STRANGER
I said you.
THE KID FIXES THE STRANGER WITH AN ICY STARE.
STRANGER
Are you the one they call the Tombstone Kid?
THE KID DRAINS HIS GLASS.
STRANGER
They say you're fast. Real fast.
THE KID
That's what they say.
THE KID STUBS OUT HIS CIGAR.
THE STRANGER GULPS, AND THEN IN ONE FLUID MOVEMENT DRAWS HIS GUN, LEVELLING IT AND COCKING IT BACK. HIS EYES WIDEN AND HE DOES NOT FIRE.
THE SALOON DOORS ARE SWINGING AND THERE IS NO SIGN OF THE KID.
END.
