The barkeep makes a valiant attempt to ignore the newcomer, but it is no use. Setting his dirty glass back on the bar, he waddles over to where the stranger is eating.
“So…uh…what brings you to Justice friend?” the barkeep begins awkwardly.
“We’re not friends.” comes the curt reply, and the conversation is over before it began.
Although startled, the barkeep shrugs and wanders back over to the other side of the bar. He can’t help but throw a suspicious glance back at the stranger. The stranger attacks his gruel as if nothing happened. He keeps the glass of water well within arms reach, as if the bartender was going to take it back.
The saloon is eerily quiet, the only sounds are the occasional scrape of a fork on a plate. The stranger finally finishes and pushes the plate away. He finishes the water in one long pull and tosses a smaller dusty coin next to it. The stranger replaces his balaclava and stetson and moves towards the door without another word. The stairs creak ominously.
The stranger stops.