That Tinhorn Behind the Starbucks Counter

No one laughs at Latigo Flint's authentic replica Colt Peacemaker 6 shot repeating pistols in hand-tooled elk hide holsters, least of all some tinhorn java jockey who couldn't even lift 'em, much less draw, aim and fire 'em empty quicker than a hummingbird sneeze like Latigo Flint can.

From two feet away, I heaved my mocha chip frapachino, and before it even splattered all over his lily white face I had pulled iron with both hands and chamber twirled through the cap rings in both Colts so fast that the sound blended into one loud snap.

(On the downside, Latigo Flint isn't ever allowed back into that particular Starbucks.)