Thousand-Yard Stares Only Get You So Far
The two men stood, back to sweaty back, under the Spaghetti Western sun. Thousand-yard stares leaped out of their eyeballs and ran off into the horizon.
“Today,” cried the mayor, "these two men have challenged each other to a duel to the death. Each has been supplied with a Colt .45 revolver for his use. Sheriff Lee here will make sure things don’t go out of hand.
“Now, I’m gonna count off ten steps. Once these gentleman hit ten, I saw ‘draw’, they will both turn around and…well, we’ll see who wins. Understood?”
The crowd nodded. The men set their jaws.
Eight more and they stood, nerves on fire, fingers tapping a staccato on their holstered guns.
With a simultaneous crack, both the mayor and the sheriff lay dead.