>

[[Holster|Holster10]]A [[tumble weed]] rolls by. Your eyes follow it further in town.



You take in the sight. Yep, it's everything you dreamed of, alright; awful roads that muck up your heels, unpainted wooden buildings, dust as far as the eye can see.

[[Holster|Holster6]]A REALLY long trip.

Oh, yes, very clever. "Shot" of whiskey. You should feel pretty smug about yourself, the amazing punning and gunning adventurer of the west!



Or at least you would, if you weren't too busy choking. Whatever it was, it was way stronger than what you're used to! [[Cough cough, sputter, ugh, you croak.]]

[[Holster|Holster4]]You flip your gun back and forth, impatiently, to pass the time. You're a big city girl, dagnabbit, you're not used to sitting still like this!

<<set $bedroom = true>>The bottle explodes dramatically.

<<set $slapped = true>>[[Holster|Holster13]]You take a shot at the source of the question, but she easily swats the bullet out of mid-air. Then suddenly slaps you on the cheek, for good measure.

[[Holster|Holster9]]A drink.

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<<checkpoint>>Sure enough, the bullet bounces just right!



<<display "snow globe of San Francisco">>

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It's the usual story. You're a big city girl with a closet full of fancy dresses but not a whole lot of sense, and lately all you've wanted to do is trade in your lonely winters for some real adventure. [[Well, consarn just wanting, you say!|Well, consarn that, you say!nobang]]

"Yeah right," the bartender says. "Not likely, city girl."



He drops a [[shot]] of some amber drink in front of you. Straight.

As she runs away, she calls back at you, "You're dangerous! Stay away from me!"



You're completely shocked. Wasn't it all going so well just a minute ago? You can still remember the feeling of her breath on your lips, but now... now... now you've fucked it all up.



Horrified with yourself, you stare down at your feet, still adorned in your shiny new [[steel-toed boots]].

<<set $bedroom = true>>All 53 cards go flying into the air, fluttering gently down onto the bed.

She backs away, looking at the shattered snow globe. You grin, but she doesn't return the gesture. She looks upset, and walks over to the kitchen, crossing her arms.



Behind her, there's a cabinet full of fancy [[china|break everything]]. [[Plates|break everything]], [[a tea-set|break everything]], [[and a rather shiny bowl|break everything]]. "[[Hand over the gun,]] cowgirl." [[Between the two of you is a vase full of freshly cut flowers.|break everything]]



[[Holster|Holsterleft22]][["Clearly, you need to be controlled," she says in a sultry voice. You feel bad—a little. You probably wouldn't mind her idea of it, though.|Your finger slips.]]

All you can do is nod, but thankfully, it's enough for her. She leads you outside, then pauses, taking out a cigarette and putting it in her mouth. Somehow she looks even cooler than before[[, smoking|cigarettenobang]].



"Got a light, cowgirl?" she asks.

<<checkpoint>>[[Holster|Holsterleft24]]You fire at her as she leaves, barely missing.

<<display "Holster23">>

Fortunately, the nearest saloon is easy to find.



A pair of [[wooden swinging doors]] stands in front of you. You feel a little bit intimidated. Are you really going to be okay in a place like this?

<<set $slapped = false>>[[Holster|Holster13]]Very dignified.



"You okay there, cowgirl?" a [[husky voice]] from behind asks you.

A moving target! Well aren't you a crackshot.

[[Holster|Holsterleft3]]...well, so far it's not much of an adventure. Mostly it's just travelling along lots of well-worn roads.

After three excruciatingly long days, you finally arrive. The wooden sign greets you:



WELCOME TO SAN FRANCISCO

[[POPULATION 50 000]]

It goes off as you hand it to her. Dangnabbit.

[[Holster|Holsterleft5]]It turns out, it's a really long trip to San Francisco.

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You sheepishly put the gun back in your holster. Smooth.



<<display "Holster">>

<<checkpoint>>[[Holster|Holster11]]That's right, KICK IN THE DOOR. Of course you'll be okay—because you say so, and that's danged well good enough!

You shoot yourself in the foot, this time literally. You start to [[bleed|blood]].



The bullet goes straight through. They weren't really steel-toed, of course, you couldn't even get that right. Like everything else. What are you even doing here, you stupid city bitch?

Even Cowgirls Bleed

[[Holster|Holster2]]You fire into the air like you're signalling the start of a race.



"Alrighty then," the driver says. "Let's go!"



And like that, you're about to start your adventure!

<<checkpoint>>[[Holster]]With one cool motion, you blast the hat clean off his head.



"You bet, old man," you say, coolly. That'll teach him.

<html><div class="bloodback"></div></html>But you're not even a cowgirl, just a dumb city bitch. What are you even doing here?

You look at your hand, your slender well-meaning city girl fingers. The ones responsibility for pulling the trigger that's fucked everything up. [[You already know what to do.|blood3]]

[[Holster|Holsterblood]]The bullet tears right through your skin, and blood sprays in your eyes. It doesn't help. It doesn't fix anything. All it does is hurt.

[[Holster|Holsterleft7]]You leave your signature on it.



"Plus one more," you say, as if you're the coolest mother-fornicator around. Because let's face it, sweetheart, you absolutely are. You're going to be absolutely welcome here.

[[Purse|Holsterleft12]]You take a seat at the bar, not even bothering to take in the other patrons. Who cares about them? It's all about you. And what you need is something to drink.



"Bourbon, on the rocks," you declare.

You meet a man with a ridiculous [[hat]] while waiting for the caravan that leads westward. He looks unimpressed by the pistol twirl you practiced for days.



[[“Do you even know how to shoot that?”, asks the man, with a grumpy stare.]]

You bleed all over the place. Even that's destructive; when she comes back, she's going to find everything ruined, soaked in [[blood|blood2]].

[[Holster|Holsterleft17]]Next thing you know, you're in her apartment, being slammed against a wooden wall in exactly the way you've always dreamed of. You feel her intimidating stare bore straight into you, as she hovers her lips just inches away from yours. Much too far.

<<checkpoint>><<if $bedroom>>"Nice shooting, cowgirl," she says, rewarding you with a gentle kiss.<<else>>"Gunshy, are we? How cute," she says, encouraging you with a gentle kiss.<<endif>> It's not enough for you.



On her bedside table is a [[snow globe of San Francisco]]. (You think to yourself, "I thought San Francisco didn't have snow?", but say nothing.) On the ground, nearby, is a jutting out [[nail]] that you bet you could get a trick shot off.

[[Holster|Holster15]]<<if $slapped>>

"Sorry," you stammer. <<endif>> "I-I'm okay."



"Now, what's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" she asks, taking you by the chin with strong calloused fingers, looking you over.



You can't help but imagine what those hands might feel like elsewhere. You'd really love to be held by them; you find yourself praying, as she stares, that she approves of what she sees.

[[Holster|Holsterleft16]]"D-did you have somewhere else in mind?" you ask. Her place, you hope.



"Maybe, cutie," she says with a grin. "I wouldn't mind seeing just how nimble that trigger finger of yours is, cowgirl."



You blush a little. She's the real cowgirl, not you, not that you're going to argue with the flattery. Certainly not with a smile like hers.

<<set $bedroom = false>>[[Holster|Holster18]]Behind her, above her bed, is a bookshelf. A [[beer bottle]] rests at the end. The only book to be found is an [[abused looking bible]]. A well-played looking [[deck of playing cards]] sits beside it.



"Show me what you've got, cowgirl," she whispers, practically into your mouth.

<<checkpoint>>[[Holster|Holsterleft14]]You take a good look at her.



She's exactly the kind of woman that makes your little dyke heart go all aflutter—and does your heart ever go aflutter. Commanding, curvy, and a slight hint of harshness betrayed by her eyes lets you know that she's the kind of woman who could very easily hurt you. And gosh, do you ever want her to.

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[[Holster|Holsterleft8]]You know what you need after all that time on the road?

You collapse in the mess you've created. You do all that you can do: bleed out.



[[Even cowgirls bleed|blood4]], you think to yourself.

So really, you did the only sensible thing a girl can do: you picked up your petticoats, you bought yourself a gun, and you headed out west[[ to San Francisco| to San Francisconobang]].

<<shot>><<display "Your finger slips.">>

<<checkpoint>>[[Holster|Holsterleft]]You narrowly miss him.



"Jesus Christ!" he yells angrily. "Be careful with that thing!"

The wagon arrives shortly. You hop in, carrying your minimal luggage without any help from anyone else.



"Would you look at that gorgeous [[blue sky]]. Nice weather for travelling," the coach driver says. "Y'all set, Miss?"

<<set $bedroom = true>>The bible stops the bullet and survives. You're slightly surprised.

<<checkpoint>>[[Holster|Holster21]]It explodes in a loud crash of ceramics; with it, suddenly everything else has crashed down, too.

[[Holster|Holster19]]Before you get a chance to even try, she pushes your gun hand back down.



"No, that doesn't suit you, cutie. You don't get to do that," she says. She's right, of course. You blush more, as she manages to find a match in her pocket and lights up without any help. "Come now, let's go."

<<checkpoint>>[[Holster|Holster23]]You fumble your gun—no surprise, with the way you've been flipping it about like an idiot—and it goes off, the bullet hitting her right in the shoulder.



"That's it, I've had enough of you!" [[she cries out, looking horrified, and turns away.]]

<<checkpoint>>[[Holster|Holster20]]The globe shatters, falling apart into countless tiny glass shards, water spilling out onto the floor.