<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;">Meytir took his last drink swiftly as the woman spoke her words kindly. "Spose yer right ma'am, wouldn't be good fer business leaving a pile ah bodies on the floor." Meytir spoke and tipped his hat to The Drifter acknowledging her request and stood from his seat as the blood began to cake the soles of his boots. He stood over Jerry Burns as he was taking his last breaths of life before passing and calmly spoke to him, "Perhaps in the next life ye learn some manners." Meytir leaned over Jerry and grabbed his arm throwing it over his shoulder helping him rise, the blood began to flow out of his stomach in a steady stream, "Now let's find you a plot of land to call yer own. Consider it a partin gift." He spoke once more to the man as the life in his eyes began to fade whilst he took his final steps bringing the term 'Dead Man Walking' a reality.<br/><br/>Meytir noticed Lady and nodded politey to her as well as The Drifter, "Ladies" he spoke signaling his leave for the moment as he began to depart the saloon. The men began to gather around them as Lady teased The Drifter with the grope of her bottom. Meytir didn't pay much mind to it assuming they had known one another as he pulled one of his revolvers from his jacket with his free hand pointing it into the air, "Make way you lowlifes!" Meytir shouted as he released a round from the chamber hitting the ceiling forming a small hole giving way to the sun's light to enter. The men moved out of their path quickly as Meytir walked the dying Jerry Burns to his grave.<br/><br/>As they exited Jerry coughed up blood signaling his demise as his body slumped over releasing his final breath. "Rest easy partner." Meytir spoke as he shifted the man giving him a piggy back ride and began to move towards the cemetery. Upon arriving there were already freshly dug graves Meytir gave a smile and a slight sigh of relief, "Consider this yer lucky day." he spoke to the deceased affirming himself he was truly dead. As best he could Meytir attempted to plop the man into the grave without much harm as blood had smeared across the backside of his jacket and dabble onto his jeans. The grave-keeper approached him in an angered tone, "What the hell?! That grave was meant for another not some random drunk!" Meytir rose from the recently dug earth and pulled some coin from his pocket placing it into the digger's hand, "Then make another, leave this one in peace." he spoke as he snatched the shovel from his hand and digging up more earth to toss upon the body signaling his passing. The digger stood silently counting the money he had just earned by not putting up a fight as Meytir removed his jacket and draped it over his shoulder walking back to the Saloon once more. <br/><br/>Upon entering again the men had gathered once more as he made his way through the crowd. The blood began to give an unholy stench as he returned to his seat motioning to the bartender, now enjoying the show, "Damnit if yer not going to clean this up then I will. Gimme that mop." he spoke demandingly as he snatched the mop and pail and cleaned the mess best he could before sitting once more. A sweat formed on his brow as he finished handing the bartender the tools and taking a rag to clean his jacket and boots. </span>  </span>