“The last time somebody pointed out that cowboys ride horses, not tricycles, I shot him. Of course, I waited until another gunslinger gunned him down, but nevertheless, I still shot him.”
“Who shot him? I asked.The grey man scratched the back of his neck and said: Somebody with a gun.”
“I shot him the bird. (Get it? I shot him the—never mind.)”
“Let him ride a horse. He's a cowboy ain't he?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I was shot?” he finally asked with a mischievous glint in his black eyes. Cameron stared at him. “Shot? Like, shot? By a gun?” Julian tilted his head and nodded. “It’s hard to be shot with a knife.”
“He landed on cheap shot, but I knocked him out of the tournament.”