---

Donny half-listened to her explanation about where to get more of these treats, distracted with the ones he had currently. He noted to maybe spend what little he had to grab some on the way out; They were delicious to say the least. At the moment he was having an issue even chewing the excessive amount in his mouth, though his eyes momentarily locked with the Candy Store's sign with a temptation that he wasn't overly willing to fight. He surely had a few coins lingering in his pockets somewhere, right? Maybe not? Probably not. But he still dug away anyhow with one hand out of curiosity, coming up with nothing but some lint and a few hairs.

Finally beginning to defeat the caramel that nearly stuck his mouth together, he watched Annie go and dig up a coin she spotted with ease in the road; He could relate with that, usually he was crawling along the ground scrounging things, too. Though it was more so usually something to eat than something to buy something to eat with. This whole situation was a roller coaster in his head; But things seemed to mellow out as she came back over, presenting the coin she discovered. As she flipped it, he snatched it out of the air, observing it momentarily but finding the sun reflecting off of it and getting in his eye which caused him to turn his head towards Annie as he dropped the coin in one of his pockets for safe keeping. "Prebbiath ith!" He thanked her, the caramel still fucking up his words a bit but hopefully they got across just fine.

Donny thought about her invitation momentarily, glancing back at the candy shop with some consideration. Eyes going back towards Annie he noticed the lollipop shift in the air. Well, even if she had crazy-ass powers, she apparently wasn't all bad. Or maybe she could be this nice simply because she knew Donny had no chance? She might've gotten ahead in the first stage, but that invisible friend of hers wasn't going to make a difference in a race: He could still win this, if he performed well.

Speaking of which, he needed to go find Jules. They needed to be leaving, though the young man knew nothing aside from she was attempting to not smell like horse shit. Annie's invitation to the saloon was better than any guess he had; So he decided.

"You know, sure." He answered, shrugging as he followed after her. Hell, maybe this was a better person to have at his back in the race; Though that technique Jules used was still very tempting, so he'd keep that deal. This woman, though... He'd have to keep an eye on her. Because while he had two on her, she had two extra keeping an eye on him. Maybe a drink would straighten him out from this outburst of emotions that played out in his mind; Maybe it wouldn't. But he could hope. Maybe he could make some quick cash off a few idiots. Just had to make sure he wasn't surrounded this time, however.

Donny's thoughts were mostly on the race until he got close to the saloon; Noticing a familiar woman getting flung out. Jules was getting herself in trouble, after saying she'd teach him? Hell, at this rate she'd get arrested before they got anywhere. He contemplated if he should step further, but that's when he witnessed something worse: A second person launching out like an arrow that majestically flowed through the air, crashing into Jules and landing them both further outside.

That second person; It was no mistake. The hat, the facial hair, the weight. That was the gun guy that took first, Mr. Ten Gallon!

"Well this looks like trouble." Donny commented, head tilting with a hand on his hip, observing the empty blown-out doorway of the saloon. Whoever was in there that threw them both out must've been tough. Unless it was another group of people? Having so many of the top contestants in one place was crazy; If something were to happen to Simon, his first place points would be forfeit and it would cause a large advantage for Donny in the rankings having to not deal with his talent in the future.

But then again, the gunman had helped Donny before the race. While Donny wasn't much for honor, he hadn't been a jackass like Jules had. Maybe he deserved a bit of mercy; Or, well, in this case... Help. Fair was fair, unless this proved to be too dangerous, of course.

Approaching the duo of Simon and Jules with his hand still on his hip, he looked them over momentarily with an unimpressed expression: This judgemental look especially targeting Jules, if not to do anything but annoy her. "Oi, gunman." He spoke, eyes slightly rolling as he tacked on: "Jules." Before leading into his question: "You both alive?"

---

Donny had attempted to say... something, but was unintelligible with all the caramels gluing his mouth together. Eventually Annie heard a "Sure." from behind her, and decided to hop along to the nearby tavern. Neon followed close behind, trying to keep a theoretical eye on both Annie and Donny.

"Question is, what to get?" Annie muttered to herself. Whiskey was all well and good, but after a while it kind of got samey. Maybe they had some sort local specialty? Maybe a local wine? Had to be white wine though. Red wine left a dry taste in her mouth. Brandy would also be nice. Maybe some sort of mixed drink? Something fruity would be nice.

It was about this time when a young woman flew out of the bar in front of her, quickly followed by a man with a large moustache. Annie noticed that this man with the moustache had a seemingly giant wind-up toy on top of him. Were those illegal around here or something? Her question would quickly be answered when said giant toy began to yell at the man with the big moustache, and move on its own. He had his own Neon Knight! Though it was more of a Neon Toy. Annie pointed towards Neon Toy before turning to Neon Knight and saying "Hey Neon look, it's a frie-- Oh!" Annie was cut off as a large plated hand gripped hair shoulder and tore her backwards. Stumbling back and landing on her sizable rump with an "Oof!", there was a loud *CRUNCH* as Neon Knight ate the remainder of his novelty sized lollipop in a single bite, before flicking away the stick to the side.

---

---

"Stay. Put." Neon practically commanded. There were two problems. One: there's an angry Stand on top of a someone, though it seemed the three on the ground were in cahoots with each other, and were likely involved in problem number two: from what Neon could see, the doors to the bar were broken off. And considering they weren't out in the open, they were likely on the inside. Something very strong would've needed to hit those doors. And considering the velocity and height those two had when they flew out, something even stronger would've been needed.

There was only one explanation Neon could think of. There was a Stand in there. And it wasn't happy. Neon held out an open hand to the three on the ground in a "Stay put" gesture, Donny now with them, before pulling out his Longsword. But what would be better for this scenario? Range? Defense? Overwhelming force? Defense seemed like the way to go when starting out. Hopefully it would buy him some time to come up with a strategy. Neon brought his kite shield in front of him before making a slamming gesture towards the ground, and then quickly raising it back up. As he did, the shield lengthened, reaching from Neon's broad metal shoulders to the ground beneath him with a *SLAM!* The width expanded slightly as well, nearly reaching the width of the doorway. Having a Tower Shield would definitely slow him down, but his durability would be unmatched.

Neon's large, imposing figure approached the doorway, his visor back down and peeking over his new Tower Shield. One man stood in front of him, a white, marble-skinned stand next to him. Neon immediately recognized the two as the man they had met back in San Diego. Joseppi. "Joseppi. I'm going to politely ask that you desist. A fight would not be a good idea at the moment. Please, come outside so we may discuss this with civility."

---

---

IN THE MIND OF NEON...

---

Neon held his sword behind him, wary of the approaching Joseppi, ready to strike at a moment's notice. Joseppi flew out of the bar, much like the two on the ground did, only this time, he landed on his feet, rather than tumbling to the ground. "Oh? You're approaching me? Instead of running away?" "I can't block the shit out of you without getting closer." Neon mocked. In hindsight, that probably wasn't a great idea, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity. Joseppi came closer and closer, Neon's grip tightening on his shield.

The tension grew thicker in the air as Joseppi was finally within striking distance, but if there's one thing Neon knew about combat, it's that often times if they're in striking range, so are you. Airbag reached out, and Neon put one foot behind the other, in a defensive stance, ready to lean into his massive tower shield to block his blows. But in an instant, all the tension dissipated, as Airbag rested on his shield, and Joseppi let out a hearty laugh. Joseppi snarked about how those two behind him ended up on the ground, knocking on his shield all the while, and saying how they could all use a drink.

Neon lifted his shield up, and it retracted back into it's normal kite shield-like appearance. Neon let out a heavy sigh as he sheathed his Longsword and brought his shield back to it's resting position. You know what? Why the hell not. Come on Annie, let's get a drink." he said, waving his arm in a "come hither" motion.

---

IN THE MIND OF ANNIE...

---

As Annie picked herself off of the ground, dusting off her bodacious booty, she watched as Neon took a defensive position against someone. To her surprise, Joseppi of all people leaped out of the doorway, accompanied by some floating marble-skinned person with a long golden chain coming off of a similarly golden collar. It looked like a leash someone would walk their dog with. Was Joseppi keeping this thing as a pet or something? That seemed kinda odd. Maybe it wasn't as "Human" as Neon was. While the two exchanged words, Annie took the time to observe the two that flew out of the bar. One was Simon, the man with the big moustache who got first place. Him and his giant robot friend. The woman she didn't recognize, but her attention was drawn to two large green balls hanging in pouches behind her. Maybe she was really into some sort of game that used those?

Annie snapped back towards the sound of Neon's voice, their dispute apparently solved, and Neon's shield back to its normal look. Upon hearing the word "drink" she remembered "Oh right, that's why we came here wasn't it?" Annie skipped towards the doorway next to Neon. Suddenly struck by a bout of generosity, she turned to those behind her. "Well c'mon, y'all! I'll buy ya a round! Ya certainly could use one after all that!" Annie's boisterous personality shone through as she offered the drink, and then promptly leaped into the first chair she saw at the bar, Neon Knight standing close behind her, leaning on her chair. She pointed a thumb at the small group behind her. "First thing they ask for us on me. And I'll get..." her eyes scanned the large wooden board above and in front of her. "...a glass of yer finest Brandy!"

---

Simon's ears were ringing, though, surprisingly, not from head trauma. The cowboy was smart enough to tuck his head while being torpedo'd, so brain damage was avoided. The ringing was from the adrenaline pumping through his body and supercharging his fight or flight reflex to the point where he was seconds away from either unloading all six shots from his revolver, or running so damn far he'd get disqualified from the race. Instead, Simon found himself not moving an inch. An observer might have considered it paralyzed by fear, but this was the pragmatic part of Simon's brain taking over.

If he acted hastily, he'd end up in worse trouble. It would be better to feel the situation out, and react accordingly. His cowardice didn't have to be immediate, being a professional coward was all about evading danger in all forms. And speaking of danger, a familiar blonde boy was strolling up to Simon's prone form. The Badger-like buckaroo from the bar. To Simon's surprise, he immediately asked if Simon and Jules were okay. Guess he misjudged just how aggressive this blonde guy- err, Donny, was. He had almost forgotten his name, but this jogged his memory.

"Ah- uh, well, ah'm alright, pardner. But I dunno fer how long. Y'might wanna take yerself elsewhere 'fore things get ugly-" Just as Simon completed his warning, the armored fellow riding double with that one lady approached the scene as well. Simon wasn't even able to fully comprehend how weird it was that this guy was still wearing armor before he ended up drawing a sword. Simon briefly noted how committed to the gimmick of knight in armor this stranger was. Then his shield magically expanded. "Ahhh, shoot. He was a ghost." Simon thinks out loud. The horrifying robotic voice of Perform This Way, who was far less talkative when not wound up (in the literal sense, he was always metaphorically wound up.), abruptly chimed in to Simon's external monologue. "Ohhh! Big man with the fat caterpillar on his lip finally got the hint. What the HECK Simon!? You think I pointed out the knight 'cause I was admirin' the armor!?"

Simon flinched at the violent language, and then again when the intimidating stranger- he vaguely recalled the knight calling him jo-something -came floating out of the building. Did all ghosts have some type of scary power except for Simon's? The tension continued to ramp up as Jo-something approached the Ghost Knight. Simon's hand slid down to his revolver once again, just in case. And just like that..it all evaporated, as Jo-something immediately relaxed, and invited everyone for drinks.

Simon's eyes practically bugged out of his head at the abrupt shift in tone, and even more abrupt shift in attitude. What in tarnation was going on!? Simon was caught between fear and confusion, which ended up evening out into a feeling of emotional grime that made him want to take a long bath with some sad country music playing loudly. Granted, this was also how Simon felt when accidentally stepping on a caterpillar. But that didn't mean it was the type of feeling he had grown used to.

Just then, someone squirmed from underneath Simon's prone form, and he heard a request. He immediately leaps up to his feet, realizing that he had being laying on Jules the entire time. "Ah! Ah' beg yer pardon, ma'am! I was so caught up in all th' chaos I went an' forgot I landed on ya." Simon stammers out so fast that the words were practically smashed together. Embarrassment and shame for practically crushing someone who hadn't had a ghost protect them from that awful blow to the head joined Simon's mixture of emotional gunk.

With all that had happened, and the way he was feeling right now..Simon honestly really could use that drink.

---

The warnings offered by both Simon and Jules left Donny quite confused: They seemed injured, but by what? Did they start a fight? They seemed to both imply plenty of danger, but nobody was approaching; And why the hell was Mr. Ten Gallon talking about ghosts? Donny's eyes shot over to the entrance of the saloon; Noticing Annie was over there. That meant the invisible man was, too. Wait. Weren't ghosts invisible? You could only like, feel their presence? Did Simon somehow tell that the invisible man was there? Donny suddenly felt suspicious of the gunman, if he could just sense the presence of that invisible man with ease.

"A ghost...?" Donny repeated, body shifting as he continued to observe the saloon entrance. Before he knew it, Annie was inviting them in for drinks. Seems like whatever the hell Jules and Simon were freaking out about was solved pretty easily. Were these two really competent? Simon won the first stage, but seemed so worried. And Jules was supposed to be his teacher, yet here she was as a bloodied pancake in the dirt. Kind of pathetic, wasn't it? Could she even walk? Well, whatever. Donny figured there was an easy solution.

Without hesitation, Donny used a hand to grip one of Jules' ankles; His free hand patting Simon's arm. "That girl's ghost ain't all bad, don't worry about 'em." He attempted to reassure the man, since he didn't seem too confident about the whole thing, before taking steps forward towards the saloon. With his step forward Jules' mangled body dragged slowly across the ground, in what was assumed agony that was disregarded by the short blonde-haired man as he towed her away. Donny offering nothing but a "Let's go get that drink before heading off, eh, 'teacher'?" as he lazily brought her up into the establishment, not showing regard for if her body swayed or whatnot. If she hit her head, that wasn't his fault. Really, it was more so her fault for getting so beaten in the first place.

Once inside, was when he noticed the man that was (As far as Donny could tell) The source of the problem: That man that had tipped his hat during the race while speeding past to gain a higher position in the race... The patrons in the bar were all terrified and looked ready to shit themselves as their eyes practically bounced out of their skulls looking at him. He hadn't caused Donny any problems so he wasn't going to say jack shit. However, he didn't need Jules to end up actually dead on the floor in here. So if people could refrain from beating the shit out of her more, that'd be great.

Speaking of Jules, Donny finally let her go. As he released her ankle her leg hit the floor with a WOMP, leaving her a mess on the floor of the saloon. Looking down at her, he scratched his head as he wondered if she'd even get up from there. "Oi, oi. You gonna get up or just lay down there, eh? Drinking's supposed to leave you crashed on the floor, you ain't supposed to start there." With that being as close to intelligent as Donny's words could, he watched her with a small grin as if finding amusement in thinking of what she'd do next.

In a strange turn of events, not only has Joseppi gotten the bartender out of the bar but he also pulled a magic sack of money out of his ass, so that was a thing. The bartender had already poured her a glass of Brandy while everyone else was scrambling around and Joseppi was bribing the bartender.

Annie tipped the glass back and admired the flavor of her brandy. Fruity, not too strong, a little citrus. Annie wasn't a professional taster by any means, but could identify flavors pretty well. She wasn't one of those people who, with just a sip, could tell the exact amount of years it was aged, the barrel wood that was used, the fruits in it, or anything like that. Those people were freaky.

Annie pulled her bag of sweets and set it on the bar in front of her. She put her hand in and pulled out a random piece of candy. A small sphere of what looked like dark chocolate. With an expert (right) hand, she set the sphere on the back of her thumb, which was tucked slightly under her pointer finder and flipped the sphere like you'd flip a coin, and the sphere arced into her mouth flawlessly. Dark Chocolate. It was... pretty bitter to say the least, but it was far from the worst she's had. The chocolate melted quickly, and was gone in a flash. She left the bag on the table, totally unguarded from young blonde boys with a candy addiction, and crossed her arms behind her head, leaning backwards. Her lean was stopped short as she made contact with Neon Knight's cold metal exterior. Perhaps a drink or two would warm him up? "Say, Neon, why don't you go get a drink? It'll be good for ya. Here." Annie reached into her pocket and pulled out an assortment of nickels, dimes, pennies and quarters, before counting out four dimes and putting them into Neon's enormous, heavy metal hand.

---

---

"Very well, if you insist." Neon leaned off of Annie's chair and took a few steps before going behind the bar. Each step of Neon's steel-like greaves made the wood creak, and the sound of heavy metal to wood could be heard nearly all throughout the bar. Upon reaching the back of the bar, Neon looked at the various bottles of alcoholic drinks. Dark liquids swirled in glass bottles, as well as the lighter brown ones. But what to get?

His eyes(?) scanned the bottles, before falling on a bottle that read "Sun Zaoh Brandy". Asain Brandy? It looked like what Annie was drinking so he decided to give it a shot. He set his four dimes on the wooden shelves before grabbing the mysterious asain brandy. Grabbing one of several short glasses and filling it with ice, he dumped in some of the brandy. He flipped up his visor, exposing the inky black darkness underneath. He brought up the glass to the edge of the opening and poured in some of the liquid. "Hmmm... Fruity. And... cold."

Simon was finally off of her. Thank God. She didn't know what the hell he told her when he finally got off, but before she could even question him, someone yanked on her foot. Jules' eyes widened when she realized that Donny was quite literally dragging her to the saloon. What could she even say in this situation? What could she even do? It wasn't like she was able to get up at the moment; she was still dazed out of her mind. Just when she gathered the energy to curse him out, her head was met with the edge of one of the saloon's steps. Pain seared fresh across her forehead. "ARGH, FUCK YOU!" she cried out as she reached a hand up to cradle her head, her voice a mixture of exasperation and anger. God, what was wrong with these people? Was she the only one around here with half a brain, save for that man who soothed the vicious cowboy?

Fortunately for Jules, Donny's parading of her body didn't last too long. She laid on the floor for a moment or two, her eyes narrowed at Donny's taunt from above, before she suddenly sat up. Her hat, which miraculously stayed on top of her head for the whole time, cast a dark shadow over her eyes as she lifted herself from the ground. Slowly, she dusted herself off from as much dirt and grit as she could. Breathe Jules. Just... breathe. Go to your happy place. No matter how many times she repeated this to herself, it was hard. It wasn't even the second stage yet and she was already on the brink. Raising a hand, she touched her nose. It hurt like a bitch, and judging from how crooked it was, it was definitely broken. She gripped it between her fingers and grit her teeth, yanking on it and setting it back in place. "You just have to be annoying, don't you, kid?" Jules muttered towards her "student", pushing her way past him and toward the bar.

Ah, yes, there were free drinks. Even though she was in pain, Jules was grateful. She sat down near the middle of the table, taking the glass and immediately tipping it against her lips. The alcohol was fruity and it burned as she gulped it down. It tasted nice and cold, soothing her as she... wait. Was who was in front of her actually who she thought it was? The murderous man with the demon horse! Suddenly, the liquid caught in her throat and caused her to splutter and cough up the whiskey all over Joseppi.

Oh. Oh God.

A giggle spurred forth. Then a laugh. Then a string of laughs as Jules lost her bearings for a second. It was reflex, you see. Something that came out from deep in her chest and released itself into the world. Then, as soon as it started, it stopped and left Jules deathly pale. "A-ah, excusi, signore," she murmured out as she reached toward Joseppi and attempted to brush off the liquid she had spit over his clothing. "It burned more on the way down more than I thought it would! Hahahahaha!" She glanced down at her empty glass and held it out, giving the tall, dark man a broad grin. "More, per favore?"

---

Donny took a step back as Jules managed to pull herself to her feet. Surprising, as the blonde figured she was crippled from Simon crushing her. He could be wrong, though, clearly. Especially since she pushed her way past him, causing him to stumble on one foot momentarily as he swore the pissed off woman wanted to knock him over. And after he brought her here, too! Not his fault she had hit her head; She should've just weaved a little better instead of being essentially a corpse. He offered a shrug at her remarks, before sitting down at the bar since that's what he was here for anyways.

He... Didn't realize the man who passed him in the race was also a part time bartender, but since the first round was on Annie, Donny figured it didn't matter who was giving him the drink since it was paid for. One of the glasses atop the bar filled with whiskey was now in the boy's hand; And without any hesitation he tilted his head back, downing the glass with reckless abandon as he usually approached social situations. Glass hitting the table, he sat there for a moment, blankly staring at the glass with squinted eyes. He felt... Odd. Like something in his stomach was twisting; Like his mind was bending to another reality he couldn't quite explain at the moment, and as he tried to process it, he only felt more confused and slightly emotional. Hand releasing the glass, he brought the now free hand up to his face and wiped some sweat away that had built from the heat outside; A soft exhale of air escaping him. What was this feeling? Sadness from not getting first? Anger that Jules was an idiot spitting her drink into Joseppi's face? Interest in the candy-girl Annie? Or wondering why Mr. Ten Gallon Simon was taking so long?

Wait, no...

_{It was just disappointment.}

"That's it?" Donny thought aloud, annoyed. He didn't feel anything from that drink: Usually he'd blame it on only being able to afford cheap shit but that drink seemed a slight notch higher. But all Donny felt from it was a sadness that it left him with nothing but a small aftertaste. Elbow on the bar, he rested his head atop his palm and glared back at the bottles behind the bar. Well, shit. This was a waste of time. At least he got a cold drink? He had expected more from it than that, but for the moment all he had was disappointment. He stayed silent, aside from a few barely audible grumbles made as complaints about what he just experienced.

---

While he was midway through stuttering out an apologetic barrage at Jules, the Badger Man known as Donny tried to comfort Simon about the armored ghost, which, given that instead of responding with 'what the hell do you mean ghost?' he took it in stride, likely meant he, too, was haunted. Simon knew there was something scary about the fellow, but he didn't expect so many people to be haunted around these parts.

Before Simon could respond, Donny grabbed Jules by the ankle, and began to drag her away. Simon attempted to call out in protest, only for the words to die on his throat. He had expended pretty much all of his stockpiled courage trying to talk to the imposing ghost-wielder who punched him out the door. This left Simon to helplessly watch as his fellow ghost victim was dragged up the steps and into the bar. With each 'thud' of her head, Simon winced. And within seconds, he found himself entirely alone outside the saloon. This was the perfect opportunity to cut and run, he could dodge both ghosts, the angry guy, and the strange blonde man.

But that would also mean he'd only delay the confrontation. They were still in the race after all, it wasn't like fleeing the bar would make them magically forget about him. Plus, the only person who had been courteous (a word Simon learned from a book and did not know how to pronounce) to him was just dragged into the bar. Guess he had no choice but to face his fears. Well, actually, he wasn't going to face his fears. He was going to exist in the same area as his fears, and hopefully they would ignore him, and he would ignore them.

Regardless, Simon tentatively trudges into the bar, and is immediately met with the terrifying haunted racer who punched him..now working at the bar as if nothing happened. Simon's brow furrows as his forehead scrunches up. He barely had time to register what the bar interior looked like before it came to violence. Was this fellow always the bartender? He was fairly certain the answer was no, but assumed drawing attention to it would end badly. Not being eager to start up another brawl, Simon tactfully ignored it, and scanned the room. The armored ghost was pouring himself a drink much to Simon's confusion. Did ghosts need to drink? Best to ask Perform This Way some other time, as right now Simon felt as though any question would set off a chain reaction of unfortunate events.

Simon's plan was to get something to drink, and then hide at a corner table. This was his plan for every social event he was forced to participate in, although sometimes he also stress ate. He shuffles over to the bar, being sure not to actually get close to the Evil Fake Bartender. Simon heads behind the bar and grabs a bottle of the overly sweet syrup-y stuff people mix into drinks. He does not pair it with anything, just takes it, and moves away from the bar slowly.

Only for Simon to witness Jules spray the Evil Fake Bartender with the contents of her cup. Simon lets out a sound like when you your vacuum cleaner sucked up something too big for it to handle and started stalling. Which, as vacuums did not exist yet, was a wholly unusual and unfamiliar sound of panic. He proceeds to back up right into the ghostly suit of armor, which likely did not even jostle Neon, seeing as how he was a ghostly suit of armor, and thus probably really sturdy. "Ah-" Simon chokes out. "Ah beg yer pardon, sir- err, ghost. Ghostly Sir? Pardner. P-Pardner? Ghost Pardner." He was visibly sweating while attempting to apologize.

---

Neon did what he did best. That being standing nearly perfectly still unless Annie began going somewhere. Except when she went into the bathroom. He didn't need to see that, and she probably didn't want him there anyways. So he did as he does, standing nearly motionless, and occasionally bringing his glass up to his visor.

Then however, Neon's attention was turned to one of the most indescribable sounds he had ever heard. It was like if someone was trying to inhale really, really hard, but they had something stuck in their mouth. There was a knock at his chest as when he turned, a man with a large moustache had bumped into him in what appeared to be a panic. A panic from what? Joseppi? Neon looked down at the man, who began apologizing profusely, and at one point even referred to him as "Ghost Pardner". "You're fine. It's going to take a lot more than that to put me down." Neon extended his big and plated left hand towards the man with the extra large moustache. "I'm Neon. Neon Knight. I serve under Annie. She's right over..." he pointed with his pinky finger on his right hand, still holding the glass, towards Annie. Or rather, Annie's seat, as she was now gone. His eyes scanned the room, but Annie was nowhere to be found."Ah, shit." Well, she couldn't have gone far, and she usually tells him if she's going somewhere far away, mostly because he gets physically dragged there. If she didn't show up within the next few minutes, he'd go looking for her.

---

---

Annie was a bit of a drinker in her younger days. She once even got taken in by the police by running around topless. After that night, she made the decision to cut back on the alcohol. Just one or two drinks is all she would usually have. She had just finished her first drink and would've probably had another, had she not suddenly had the overwhelming urge to pee.

Annie looked around for the bathroom, and found a pair of wooden doors, one labeled "MEN" and the other "WOMEN". Annie headed into the women's bathroom, which was... surprisingly clean for being out in the middle of nowhere. It even had a nice circular mirror. She quickly ran into one of the stalls, and answered the call to nature.

After finishing up, Annie walked over to the sink and mirror and began to wash her hands. Annie looked deep into the mirror, back at herself. Her hair seemed a little... frizzy. And she noticed one of her buttons on her tanned jacket had come undone again. Maybe it was time for a new jacket? This one was about a year old now, and had seen some abuse, crawling over rocks, through sand, getting covered in ancient stagnant water, perhaps it was time to put the jacket to rest.

She looked over the rest of herself. Her white collared shirt was mostly pristine. It had a little sand on it, which was quickly brushed off, and a mark from dirt on her left side. She gave her finger a lick and tried wiping away the dirt, but it wasn't the most effective method. She looked down at her jeans. They were a lighter blue, almost white on the front part of her legs, but still a darker blue in the back. The knees and shins were a little torn up, mostly from her being on her hands and knees digging through sand, rocks, and whatever other horrors waited in ancient ruins. She had an extra couple pairs of clothes back in ther pack that was on Slow Ride, just in case. She had a hard time finding jeans that fit, and more often than not had them tailored to her. Given the kind of hard work she did, she needed something sturdy to wear, and these, she found, were a good choice. Lastly, she looked down at her brown leather boots. They were... pretty dirty, all things considered, but considering how much she walked and how often she'd use her foot to kick away things while digging, it was to be expected, she usually went through two or three pairs of shoes a year. These boots were relatively new, and had a while to go, but the leather was beginning to crack, and the laces were starting to get frayed in some places. Good thing she brought another pair, though given her average foot size, she could probably find more in a town if she really needed more.

Annie let out a sigh as she ran her hands through her hair, trying to calm the frizzles that her hair had began creating, when she noticed the glint from her finger. She was wearing a silver band with a small Amethyst on it. It was a ring she had found once while digging out in the west. It wasn't ancient, and was probably made within the last 20 years or so. She yawned, giving a big stretch as she held her arms upward. This was going to be a long journey. Better get back to Neon.

---

With whatever was going on around him, Donny was still drinking. As if with instinct, this bartender refilled his glass as it emptied and drove Donny to keep going further in search of relief; Each glass bringing him more stress as it seemed to continue to have no damn effect on him. Chugged. Chugged. Chugged. Was there nothing to be done? Was it a hopeless endeavor that he should give up on? If he gave up while he was ahead maybe it'd be for the better. This seemed to be endless; A river that'd never fill, a flow that'd seemingly never get going. It felt utterly pointless to him, and he wished that wasn't the case.

A hiccup escaped the young man.

That last might've done it. Did persistence win out? Donny looked flushed; Sweat on his brow, slightly tilting in his seat. All that irritation faded, but what was there in it's place? It felt like an empty room now... No noise, no trouble, no people. His eyes squinted as he rested his chin atop the bar, a low-tone groan of annoyance escaping him as he suddenly felt more confused than he had in quite awhile: God... What the hell was he even doing? Why was he here? He could've left for the race already, but he was lingering around because he saw some fancy ball fondling. What an idiot he was. So many opportunities, so many chances he could've took: Thrown away to drink around these people. It gave Donny a somber feeling.

"Hng?" He made a grunt of confusion, feeling a hand grasp his shoulder. It was rough, but oddly... Comforting in his current mood. He didn't think much of it aside from growing a small momentary smile while looking back at the woman, before laying his head back down on the bar. You know, this thing was really comfy. It made Donny feel relaxed? It was better than most of the places he slept. Mostly bundled up clothing for a pillow. The only thing that could make it better was a blanket; He wished he had one right about now. Today had been really exciting, more than he was used to, honestly. He could just... Use a break while Jules was busy here. He was sure she'd grab him on the way out... Or not. Regardless...

Donny slowly drifted off at the bar, feeling comforted by simply closing his eyes. He began to sleep, softly snoring as he did so, one arm on the bar as the other was limp hanging to his side; A small amount of drool began to puddle beside his mouth, as he took an opportunity with his now drunken state to enjoy a nice nap.

Z z z z z z...

---

Simon had intended to list off more potential titles in hopes of not offending, but realized how exceptionally stupid 'ghost pardner' was, and figured that if he opened his mouth again, he was going to somehow top that in stupidity. Seeing as how Simon lived in a constant state of anxious embarrassment he decided there was no need to increase that embarrassment further. So in order to prevent his mouth from spewing some horrible word combination, he takes a big drink of what he grabbed from the bar. Which was pretty much fruit flavored sweetener. Simon didn't even flinch when he gulped it down. Seemed he had weird drinking habits. Admittedly it was overly sweet, and he'd have preferred orange juice, but saloons didn't tend to have orange juice, sadly.

Simon nodded at the ghost, who introduced itself (himself?) as Neon Knight. He nodded at him in acknowledgement, before noticing the extended hand. Simon awkwardly grasps it. His hand was incredibly sweaty, yet his grip was really strong. However he was also slightly trembling, which made it a really weird experience. He gently shakes the ghost's hand, and swallows down his sweetener. "Good to uh, meet ya. Ah'm Simon. Simon Garfunkel." Simon winced at his introduction. His accent always got thicker when he was more nervous, which turned his I's into Ah's. Plus the way he said his first name, followed by both his first and last name made it unnecessarily dramatic. Why in tarnation didn't he just say his full name all at once?

He takes another sip of the fruit flavored sweetener. Underneath all the sugar it seemed to be apricot flavored, or maybe it was peach. Simon proceeds to nearly choke on it when the ghost gestured to thin air, and proceeded to curse in exasperation. Simon himself never swore, but he normally wasn't the type to admonish others for swearing. But something about a floating metal ghost drinking liquor and swearing abruptly completely caught him off guard. It was as if that one thing made Simon realize just how absolutely insane this entire situation was.

He was talking to a ghost, in a saloon, after being punched out of the saloon by another ghost who was haunting a man who Simon approached previously to inform him that his bag was open while on horseback in the middle of a race across America. And he was incredibly self-conscious around this ghost as if he were someone Simon was trying to impress at a town get-together, which was what he called parties. Hadn't he been a police officer once? He was a normal guy with a normal career, yet somehow he was taking these freakish events better than he handled a conversation with a friendly stranger.

Simon was brought out of his existential crisis when he saw the Evil Fake Bartender lead Jules away towards the washrooms. His first thought was that, oh sweet lord in heaven, she's going to die. But common decency prevented him from chasing after, well, that and he didn't want to get punched again. Plus the Evil Fake Bartender had abruptly mellowed out, and clearly did not care one bit about being subtle. So if he really wanted to turn Jules' face into a piece of abstract art, he would have just done so and been done with it.

The conflicting feelings and suspicions left Simon in an uncomfortable middle ground of staring at them as they left like a worried grandmother, and then shifting his focus back to the ghost. Except now he was sweatier, and very obviously more concerned and jumpy. He opens his mouth as if about to say something. Except nothing came to mind, so Simon awkwardly closes his mouth again.

---

Strangely feeling a little better, Jules lifted her head from the sink and glanced over at Joseppi. Huh, what do you know-- he did follow her into the women’s bathroom. This day was getting more and more bizarre; she had manure thrown at her earlier, had been in an excruciating amount of pain only a few moments before and her breathing had been off only to have it fade away moments after, and now had to deal with a man in her private space-- the same man that had almost caved her face in a few minutes before. What was his deal?

”Hold on now,” Jules remained calm as she wiped the water from her face, careful not to blemish her bruised features any further, ”you can’t just waltz in here all nonchalant and crack a wise joke. Tell me what you want or get the hell away from me.”

The consternation was clear on her face and he couldn’t really blame her given the situation. His smile faded as his composure grew more serious. ”Now thats no way to be talking to a man of the law now is it? Seems to me you’re a bit famous round here parts.”

Annie half wanted to leave, half wanted to stay, if only to interact with someone that wasn't Neon. Besides, Neon did most of the talking for her. "Famous huh? What for?" Annie thought about what this oh so popular woman could be know for? She didn't exactly seem like the person to be a chef, so, a musician maybe? She didn't have an instrument on her, though she could guess why with all the tumbling about she's been doing. But then Annie briefly remembered something: those green balls she had on her. They didn't exactly seem like they were used in any sport she knew of. They looked pretty heavy, probably not ideal for baseball or tennis. "Oh wait lemme guess… uh, an athlete, right? That's what those green balls are for right? Some kinda sport?" Annie's southern accent got slightly thicker as she grew more excited. She never really got to meet a famous person so… up close. She's been to concerts before with famous musicians, and her father even once knew a renowned cook at one point, but they haven't spoken in a while. But now she gets to meet a famous athlete!

”Man of law?” Jules stood stalwart in Joseppi’s presence and focused on not letting her fear trace her expression. If she looked guilty, she might as well be giving a confession right there and then. For a moment, her eyes wavered towards the girl as she spoke. Did she really think that she was an athlete? Damn, did she lie? Did she tell the truth? Or… ”Oh? I didn’t know I was famous, especially for something sports-related. Tell me Mr. Man of the Law, what exactly am I famous for?”

His gaze shifted to Annie in her childlike wonder in his mention of infamy. While she did have reason to believe Jules was one due to those balls strapped to her body, he knew they were something more. His knowledge in stands was limited, but he most likely knew more than any of the party in question. “Well Annie I’ll tell you what, it’s kind of like a sport. She’s a real good runner, so good she ran all the way to the other side of the world to escape her family. Have you ever heard of the sport called TREASON?”

"Uh…, No, I can't say I have. Is it new? Or some kinda Italian sport?" Annie emphasized the "I" in Italian, in an attempt to play stupid. Annie was of course, fully aware of what treason was, and the consequences it could bring. Not wanting get herself mixed up in all this criminal activity, she decided to just play dumb. After all, Lawman here could probably arrest her for something stupid, like Obstruction of Justice or something. That wouldn't be good. This is probably why Neon does all the talking, to keep her out of messes like this.

Crap, so he did know about it. Had Jules finally been caught? It was bound to happen eventually, wasn’t it? There wasn’t anything that she could do, just hope that the officer would turn a blind eye. Then again, if she was for some reason famous, that probably meant that there would be other people after her. At least this other woman was trying to play it off in a smart-but-stupid way. ”Treason? Is that what they call it?” she muttered, shrugging. Turning to Annie, she answered her. ”Apparently, standing up for what’s right is considered treasonous behavior.”

Denying it would only make things harder. ”Now, officer,” she turned back to Joseppi, ”I’d greatly appreciate it if you could turn a blind eye. I can’t really afford getting arrested, especially since I still have to win the race. Tell you what. Once I get the prize money, I’ll pay you whatever bounty they put on my head. Deal?”

Joseppi wished people were more oblivious to how the world worked, much like Annie was. Whether or not it was a clever ruse she was putting on, Neon was definitely the smarter of the two. “Definitely a European sport that we perfected in the revolution” he said before turning his attention back to Jules. “I’m not in the market on why you chose to turn coat and hide out here. I’m only interested in turning you in.” He pressed on while airbag continued to funnel air into jules lungs, giving Joseppi a look with when head cocked to the side. “Did you just try to bribe me? A bounty hunter of the law?!” He guffawed in response while Airbag rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you what, you got grit I’ll give you that. I don’t want your money or even the money on the bounty. Now why don’t you do me a favor and turn around.”

She didn't know why, but Annie didn't quite trust Joseppi. Maybe not having Neon around was getting to her, but considering he had just attacked two people, she sensed that he wasn't entirely truthful, and things might turn violent quickly, and she didn't stand a chance without Neon around. It was time to pull out her secret weapon. "Actually, I have an idea. What if- now hear me out on this one- I paid off her bounty?" Annie reached into her back pocket, revealing a black leather checkbook. She looked directly into Joseppi's eyes."I have the money. Take me down to wherever you need me to, and I'll pay it off. And you, she turned to Jules. "I'll have you work it off. Hope ya like dusty old tombs and getting your hands dirty." Annie leaned forward and placed a hand on both Jules and Joseppi's shoulders. "I think we've all had a lot going on for us today. Let's all try to end this on a good note, yeah?"

Despite her condition steadily becoming better, Jules didn’t like the direction this was going. That ghost that the officer had looked less than amused, unlike Joseppi, who had laughed at her proposal. Oh, so he was one of those “goody-two-shoes” officers. Those types of people that don’t work for the money, only for righteousness. That was something she admired, though it wasn’t currently working out for her. Jesus Almighty, did she really have to submit to this guy? She only hoped that she would be able to escape him before he had the chance of turning her into one of his higher-ups. She blinked when the other woman spoke up, once again offering to pay off her bounty-- at the expense of her labor. Tombs? Dirty hands? It was certainly better than rotting away in a jail cell… or worse. ”Clever girl, this one! I have no problem with paying my sins off with hard labor! And,” she gave Joseppi a sly glance. ”If you really want to be sure I won’t get into more trouble, officer, you can accompany us through the desert. That way, you can keep a close eye on me. I promise I’ll be a good girl~”

Annie looked quizzically at Jules as she spoke that last sentence. Gross. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Maybe bringing her to the females bathroom hadn’t been such a great idea. What Annie lacked in awareness she made up for in persistence. It was quite charming, it’s probably why she was the first one he met once he joined the race. And while they’re story was still left unfinished, he had to pause it for now. His eyes deviated from her gaze for a second capturing Airbags instead. Her eyes burning her will into his, shaking her head knowing what he was planning. His word was bond and he planned on keeping it that way. So with a snap of his fingers small blades of wind sliced up the leather checkbook. “I’ll make that one up to you later, Hell I’ll even dust off those tombs with you.”

Jules wasn’t so useless after all, her tongue might have served to work on weaker men, but Joseppi was above carnal desires. He unstrapped the button attaching the rope to his waist, slowly he unbundled the rope in his hand waiting for another sly reply. “Now why should I accompany you in the desert and finish the race instead of tying you up and taking you in right now?”

It seemed like no matter what they did or what they offered, the officer wouldn't back down. The checkbook that Annie held was sliced up by some invisible source within seconds, leaving Jules more bitter than before. This guy had a stick up his ass that was for sure. She watched him with an annoyed glower, clenching and unclenching her hand. Should she do this?

”Because once the race is over, I'll gladly let you take me in," Jules retorted. ”Just give me a chance, officer. You know, God said that even the most vile of people can be redeemed! Hopefully you'll see the good person I am by the end of the race. If you're not convinced by then, I'll gladly let you arrest me!"

Annie was slightly annoyed at the fact this monster on a leash sliced up her checkbook, but wasn't exactly worried. "Well, good thing I have a spare." she emphasized by reaching into her pocket and pulling out a second, identical checkbook, but quickly putting it away for fear of it being sliced up. "Well, since we all seem to be going to the same place, if you're really considering watching 9ver her for the time being, I could come along, too. Neon's real good at keeping an eye out for things, if it weren't for him, who knows how many pits I would've fallen in, or how many people would've tried to mug me. And besides... Annie leaned closer to Joseppi's ear and put her hand up to the side of her mouth, before whispering "She's also probably more inclined to listen to what another woman has to say. Especially one who just tried to pay off her bounty." Annie stepped back to her original position and put her hand back down. "But if not, there's not a whole lot I can do to stop you.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. A heavy knock. One that could only be made by someone wearing some heavy metal gauntlets. "Hey Annie, you've been in there for a little while now, you alright?" Annie tensed up slightly at the sound of Neon's voice. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just uh… discussing some things." Neon's voice came from the other side of the door once more. "Well, alright. I'll wait by the door for you if you need me."

Annoyance was being to manifest inside of JoJo, he was wrong about whatever preconceived notions he held about this broad. There was something so fake about her that she wasn't letting permeate to the surface. Perhaps if she was genuine and told the truth instead of trap herself in a corner Joseppi would have been more lenient to listen. Just before he could press harder and break jules’ facade Annie presses herself against him. Remember when he wasn’t a man of carnal desires? Well Annie sure was testing his limits. She was right and maybe what he thought of Annie originally was wrong too. The idea wrestled in his mind when a knock was heard on the door, Neon.

Nodding to Airbag she vanished before reappearing by neons side. “Your master is safe with me you big tin can. Let’s just keep what happened outside between you and me, JoJo doesn’t need to know he lost his grip. It would kill him you know? Anyways they’re just powdering their noses so it shouldn’t be too much longer.” With airbag dealing with Neon he bought just enough time to finish his transaction. The rope going back onto his belt clip. “I guess you’re right, you’ll be coming with me after the race but your head is mine no questions asked. For now I’ll be your guardian but don’t forget I’ll cancel our contract the moment I feel you turning tail again.”

“Oh and one more thing thank Airbag for helping you breathe. But I’ll leave you breathless” he said turning off his powers which inevitably would bring her pain back. “For you madam” retrieving the flower from inside his vest and turning it over to Annie.

There was something strange going on between the two. Jules could see that from a mile away. She watched as Annie pressed against the officer, raising a brow in response. She couldn't hear what she said, but there was nothing else she could do but wait until they were done. Until the ghost suddenly disappeared and left the three by themselves. Finally, the officer agreed; at least she'd have enough time to change his mind before the end of the race. Before she could speak, whatever comfort that had been enveloping her disappeared and left her breathless-- just as the officer said. Gasping with newfound pain, she leaned against the sink a slight amount, still fighting to stay on her feet as she watched the two.

”Since we're to be traveling together, I might as well introduce myself. My name's Jules," her features were strained with pain as she glanced between them. ”And you two are..?"

Annie gracefully plucked the flower from Joseppi's hand, which he magically pulled out of his ass, or vest, in this case, much like the sack of coins earlier. She then turned to Jules. "Jules, huh? Well my name's Annie. And just like lawman over here, I got a spirit feller too." Annie turned her head to the door. "Hey Neon, come on in and introduce yerself!"

Outside the door, Neon looked at Airbag, then the door, then back at Airbag. "So long as no rash decisions are made, I think we'll be fine." Annie's muffled voice came from behind the door. Something about introducing himself. He glanced over at Airbag one more time as he opened the door. Ducking his head, his large red plume off of the back of his helm still brushed the top of the door's frame. Annie gestured ambiguously at Jules in a "this is who you need to introduce yourself to" manner. Neon's large plated form approached the new woman. "Greetings. I am Neon Knight, and I serve as Annie's protector as a Stand. I'm going to assume you can see and hear me if Annie is going to have me introduce myself to you." Neon stuck out an enormous plate gauntlet covered hand towards Jules.

Spirit feller was one odd way to describe the nomenclature behind them. That did remind him though, that many of them might have only just recently obtained their stands. “As for myself the names Joestar. Joseppi Joestar, but you can call me JoJo for short if you want. Airbag over there is my stand, that’s what you call them there ‘spirit fellers’ and I reckon that big dufus outside has one too. You might have one yourself missy lest my eyes are mistaken with them balls of yours” Joseppi said in Jules direction.

Airbag nodded at Neon before evaporating once more and reappeared beside Joseppi, she noticed immediately that jules was having difficulty breathing again so she slapped him in the back of the head. Wincing in pain joseppi sighed, “Yare Yare Daze….Anyways good to have you here Neon now what?”

So the other woman was named Annie, the sheriff was named Jojo, and the two spirits-- called Stands, apparently-- were named Neon Knight and Airbag respectively? The fact that the spirits could actually speak to her was interesting, and for a moment she wondered if she was truly going crazy. But when she reached out to shake Neon’s hand, she was surprised to discover that he certainly did feel real. And cold, too. ”Pleasure,” she grumbled before shooting a glance at Jojo’s Stand. Airbag-- wasn’t that the one that had been helping her out before? ”Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet both of you ghos… I mean, Stands.”

Finally, Jojo asked the important question. ”I think we should get back on the road. I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re already behind,” she suggested. Jules really didn’t feel like getting on Greasy Sand, but she had no other choice. The pain would fade away eventually, anyway.

"Right, well, you're probably right, we should probably get going. I'm sure there's a penalty or something for starting late. I'll meet you guys by the exit of town. Neon and I shouldn't be too hard to miss." With a small bow, Annie opened the door to the bathroom, and Neon followed closely behind. Annie took one last look behind her at the people around the bar, before walking through the doorway and off towards Slow Ride.

Joseppi was of the mind of rigging Jules to his horse right there and then before they took off just so she couldn’t escape. While they spoke their pleasantries he was more concerned with something else. “You two go on I’ll be outside shortly I just need to take care of something first…” he said making his way out of the powder room and once more emerging into the bar. Joseppi took a glass of water off from the side and poured it on top of Donny’s head. “Wake up jackass you’re gonna walk with me to my horse.”

---

After the immensely uncomfortable awkward silence between Simon and the Neon Ghost Knight, he was almost relieved when, without another word, the ghost floated over towards the women's washroom. Simon very awkwardly, without looking towards him, spoke up in a quiet voice as the ghost floated away. "Uh, yup. Nice uh, meetin' ya." There was no sarcasm in his tone, just a very awkward goodbye delivered after it should have been.

Simon takes another sip of his sweetener, realizing he shouldn't have drank what was pretty much apricot flavored sugar water, seeing as how he was going to be riding for quite a while. Sugar tended to make him antsy..well, more antsy than usual. He sets the glass down, but only after spending a solid minute looking for a coaster. There were none. Saloons didn't care about water damage to wooden counters very much, they tended to get damaged through bar fights far before it became a concern.

While remarking on the lack of coasters and why that was the case, Simon realized the Neon Ghost Knight was a male, and was headed towards the women's washroom! He whirls around, ready to speak up and politely inform the ghost that the men's washroom was elsewhere, only to see that the ghost had stopped by the door, and was just waiting. It was hard to tell what with him being a ghost in armor, but his body language seemed to be semi-concerned. Or maybe constipated, it was hard to tell.

Feeling self-conscious about not being concerned, and figuring ghosts were probably supernaturally good at sensing danger (since they were supernatural) Simon decided he probably should be concerned too. Somehow everyone had let their guards down despite a brawl having been brewing until a few moments ago. Was that some type of ghost ability, or just a strange coincidence? Either way, now Simon had worked himself into a concerned frenzy. He skitters over towards the washroom, a bit further away than the Neon Ghost Knight, but not too far either. He didn't want to be rude, but was also now officially nervous.

And then the third ghost appeared. The one that punched Simon and Jules right out of the bar. He immediately covers his face upon the ghost's appearance, only for the ghost to begin talking, totally ignoring him, which he was thankful for. Let the ghosts talk and leave him out of it! He had no issues there, no sir!

After a tense few moments waiting, some muffled words were exchanged, and Neon strolled right into the bathroom. Simon almost spoke about it, as a proper gentlefolk would not have done that, but he soon realized that it was likely the person he was haunting called him in. Fair enough. This left Simon alone with the sleeping Blonde Badger. He actually looked a lot less scary when he was asleep. His features were a lot softer when they weren't sneering or jeering at people. Still, sleeping on a table like that was bad for your back, Simon thought he should probably wake him up.

The door opened behind him, first came Neon and the woman he was haunting. Simon let out a small yelp in surprise, but soon calmed down. Then the Fake Bartender emerged, and Simon let out another yelp, before distinctly avoiding eye contact. Acting as though he hadn't noticed him, and didn't have any business with him. And then finally out came Jules. That was a relief, all three of the people Simon wasn't afraid of had emerged unharmed. And so did the Fake Bartender.

Well, unharmed wasn't the right word. Not any more harmed than they were previously was more accurate. Jules still looked roughed up. Really roughed up, actually. And she seemed not to be breathing too well. Simon waited a few seconds to be polite and not immediately approach her as she left, and then walked up to Jules. "Ah'm uh, about ta head back ta my horse and mosey on out of here. Stayin' in one place with a feller as scary as him ain't exactly my idea of a good time. But uhh, yer looking a bit beat up, and ah've got a first aid kit in my saddlebag, if y'want. Ah don't want y'getting sand an' dirt blown into yer bruises an' cuts."