'Cain't blame 'em much. Jes' puttin' a tin star on a feller ain't never gonna stop flyin' lead, and we knowed — all of us — that if you mess with ...hem Bickles, you gonna soon be deader'n Lazarus after Jesus left town.So, every bless'ed Saturday, them boys come ridin' in at daybreak to tear up our town. They stay all day and into the night, with no kind a' law to slow 'em down nor stop 'em. They insult our wimmen, bust up our onlyest saloon, drink everythin' that come in a bottle and take quick. Penelope started pushing his hand up and he pulledaway too hard. The slimy contents of his hand went flying onto Todd,onto his belly and trickling down into the small thatch of pubic hairthat he retained. Todd's cock was still hanging outside his pantieswith the band hugging underneath his balls.Penelope struggled to maintain a calm voice. She said slowly and low involume, "I'm going to assume that was an accident. That you weren'tdefying me on purpose. But you're going to clean up your mess. More

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