[u]Final Match[/u]
A pair of tall figures, garbed in jeans, chaps and high-heeled boots, stand at opposite ends of a dusty road. Squinting in the sunlight, the noble and god-fearing sheriff John Wirth sizes up his nemesis, an untrembling hand creeping towards his holster.
"Well, pardner, them gravitons ain't gonna generate no damn rotor turbines by themselves." he drawls.
The stranger, known to history as the Fuzzy Kid, narrows the eyes of whose cold glare men whisper in fearful tones, and slowly removes a Marlboro from between pale lips.
"What the fuck," he utters in a voice like death itself. "...are you talking about?"
Like a funereal knell, the town clock strikes twelve.
Follow up "The ego has landed".
The rules:[list]
[*]Big Evil Dan: Due to a strange disruption in the space-time continuum, at least one panel must take place in an alternate universe.
[*]kaufman: The name of a different alcoholic beverage must be mentioned in each frame.[/list]
And may he who has never previously won the Cup triumph.
