The Cats fell one after another as the gunmen and women in the bar unleashed a returning rain of rounds and a sermon. The bladers were first, and then the gunner on the right before the loader, and then finally the gunner on the left. The Captain knew that it was wise not to try and take the saloon when intelligence had informed him that The Best in the West was there. The saloon would have surely been full of gunslingers.<br/><br/>However,<em>The Best in the West</em>was crossing his arms over his head as the din of gunfire began to die down above him, and a warm sensation had bloomed across his backside. The heat felt right on his ass as Zieg skeptically raised his head, and then peered over his shoulder to see his sun-deprived derrière staring right back at him—the heat had come from a scorched plank in the counter. The Gunslinger's cheeks ignited with blush as he squirmed on the floor, rolling about as he jerked his pants right on up. His mind was riddled with confusion as to how his pants had managed to drop during the fight. He hadn't seen anyone though there was a slight recollection of Joanne smiling in his brain.<br/><br/>Zieg first glanced around at any that might have looked his way. So far, he only saw dead bodies, hiding gunmen and women, and Lady Magnificent lying prone across the floor and batting her eyelashes as she waved at him with a cat paw. That gesture was enough to inform him that she had seen more than enough—typical of the whore. The Gunslinger turned his cheek dismissively to her teasing as he rose to his feet and brought his hands to his hat to straighten it. "Are you all right, Marilyn?" Zieg asked. He actually meant the question, but it might have sounded condescending to think that the gunslinger would actually get hurt in a scuffle like that.<br/><br/>"I'm all right, Gun," Lady said cutely.<br/><br/>Again, Gun had ignored her as he arched his lip in disgust. Just hearing that whore's voice made him recall his depantsed situation. As he peered around the room, he didn't see Joanne anywhere, and then narrowed his eyes to see that the damn priest managed to live. He refused to believe that such an annoying man was actually blessed. He should have caught a bullet right in his yap.<br/><br/>The Gunslinger slid his hands into his pants pockets, trying to confirm his suspicions that the red-headed fox had actually used a slow round on him. When he found her bike keys gone, he sucked his teeth, and turned to the gap in the wall to gaze out back at the backside of The Designer. She stood there like an abandoned lover, and Zieg gazed at the black dot in the flat, rippling distance. "Joanne, you got somethin' to explain? Why did Cats attack this bar?" he questioned. His brows then furrowed as he thought on the side:<em>And why d'ya pull ma' pants down you little bitch!</em>