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McCree goes to Taco Bell

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The High Noon hits the Taco Bell just right. In the distance I can hear a horn and I know that the train has already left its station.
In the light of the sun the metal of the door frame gleams burning hot. As I kick open the door the bell jingles and I squint to take in my surrounding through the smoke of my thick cigar.
We're alone, me and the employee. Once I finally hit the counter the employee gulps down whatever he had just in his mouth and smiles nervously at me.

"Howdy, partner." I greet the cashier after he doesn't say anything for a few seconds. I can not be that imposing.

He smiles nervously, sweat is running over his brow; it says a lot about him. It also tells me the air-conditioner is broken. "I-I'm sorry sir, but you can't smoke in here.", he finally blurts out, trying his best to appear calm and collected. But he trembles.

I nod. I sometimes forget this is a thing. As I step out again, a vulture draws circles above my head. This place must be throwing out enough food to attract those carnivorous birds. I watch as a tumble weed rolls past through the desert. With a sigh I flip away my cigar and turn around. The sun as hot as ever.

Once again I walk back to the cashier, finally able to make my order. My mouth opens but before I can make another sound, he shrieks in horror. I turn around, my gun drawn. Even in my most relaxed minutes, I'm still ready to fight. Instead of another Talon crone a fire started outside. I must have forgotten to put out my cigar and I left the door open. In rolls the burning tumbleweed. The cashier grabs a fire-extinguisher and I try to stomp out the flames.
The last thing I need is this place turned into a burning ring of fire. In a last ditch attempt I throw my poncho over the tumble weed and try to suffocate it.

After several minutes, a ruined poncho and a half-ruined Taco Bell, the television in the corner shows my face. I know I cannot stay here. Before he can say another word I turn around. I walk off into the sunset, hungry, thirsty and with a ruined poncho. A drifter alone and lonely and for a moment I wonder why the sun is setting when it has been high noon half an hour ago. But I don't question it.

I am a lonesome cowboy.