Dealing with Heat and Humidity in the Old West

SCENE: A saloon in the Old West. The bartender wipes down a glass, as they constantly did in the Old West. In the background, several people of easily identifiable socioeconomic status play poker. Two ornery looking desperadoes enter.

BARTENDER: Hello, Humidity. How goes it, Heat? Haven't seen you guys in a while.

HUMIDITY: How 'bout a bottle? (Tosses some sort of coin indiscriminately on the bar, as desperadoes were known to do. Bottle service was apparently much cheaper in the Old West.)

HEAT: And sumpthin to eat. (Nothing specific, just whatever they can rustle up. Probably steak and beans. Potatoes if they were able to get them, but trade routes were unreliable back in the day.)

BARTENDER: Boys, the people round here are tired of ya. Best you boys be movin' on.

HUMIDITY: We don't have to take that talk from a bartender. (People in the service industry were not respected as toughs in the Old West.)

HEAT: You lookin' to get thumped?

BARTENDER: Boys, you know we look forward to seeing you all winter. But you boys have outstayed your welcome. Best you head south now. They likely would like to see ya.

HEAT: Let me thump him, Joe! (There's always at least one desperado in the Old West named Joe.)

HUMIDITY (OR APPARENTLY, JOE): I think we may just stay a while. And we'll be takin' that bottle, our dinner and whatever else we want while we're here!

Bartender reaches for a sawed off shotgun under the bar, but is beaten to the draw by "Joe" who puts an inordinately large knife under the bartender's throat. (Every desperado in the Old West carried an inordinately large knife.)

HEAT: Whatcha think 'bout that, Old Man? Joe's gonna make ya bleed now.

SOUND: Multiple firearms being cocked. Always identifiable is one pump action shotgun, which didn't exist in the Old West.

STORE OWNER: I don't think so. (Store owner is easily identifiable by his apron.)

HUMIDITY: You don't got the guts. (The emerging middle class of the Old West were widely known to be less than brave, and only stood up for themselves as part of a group.)

FARMER: Nah. Mebbe he ain't. But WE do. We don't like your kind stayin so long. You best be hittin the trail where they don't mind you. (After all, have you ever heard of a "cold and dusty trail?")

PIANO PLAYER: That's right. Y'all git. (Piano players were men of few words in the Old West, but eventually had one line.)

Even the dance hall girl/lady of the night (difficult to tell the difference in the Old West) has pulled a Derringer from her garter. (OK... now we know her status.)

HUMIDITY: A'ight. (People think "A'ight" is modern. But it originates in the Old West. Google it.) We'll leave. But we'll be back.

HEAT: Yeah, we'll be back.

BARTENDER: We'll be lookin' forward to that, Heat. We ain't sayin' you ain't welcome, we're just gettin a little tired of ya. We'll be seein' ya again. You'll be welcome after a spell.

The desperadoes walk out. The people of easily identifiable socioeconomic status uncock their weapons and return to their poker game. The bartender smiles and nods at the piano player, who starts playing.

And... SCENE.