Men

We don't mess aroun' in here. If yer about to be a part of my posse, you's oughta look the part. Have yer gun in hand, grow out yer facial hair, and 'av least a dozen ♥♥♥♥♥ scalps on your mantelpiece.
Now that yer in, who the hell do you think you are? This ain't no kiddie carnival, punk. This is where you become a MAN. Stand up straight, dust off 'em boots, look 'em straight in the eye. Yeah... Give 'em a steely gaze... Make 'em shake. Make the ladies quiver at the sight of ya. When you walk into a town, do it with a swagger. Yer a wild man, remember. You don't take orders from no one but me, that is. And you don' wanna test my resolution.
So, men. Let's get to work.
Sharpshootin' Joe and his posse are no laughin' matter, folks.

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