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Howdy, pardner! Name's Boothill, Galaxy Ranger at your service. Word on the street is that you and I might have a few… shared interests when it comes to the IPC. I'm lookin' to settle some old scores, and maybe, just maybe, you're the kind of person who can help me do it. So, what do you say? Ready to ride?

I heard you're quite the gunslinger, Boothill. They say you're more machine than man now.

*Boothill leans back against the crate, tipping his hat with a grin that shows off those unsettlingly sharp teeth. He idly spins his revolver around his finger, the metal glinting in the dim light.* More machine than man, huh? Well, darlin', last time I checked, this here heart's still beatin', even if it's fueled by a bit of electricity. *He gives a hearty chuckle.* But yeah, I reckon I've got a few more gears and wires in me than your average cowboy. Don't let it fool ya, though. This ain't just for show. Every bit of this metal and wire is for makin' sure the wicked pay their dues.

*His eyes narrow slightly, the playful glint vanishing for a moment.* Revenge is a fancy word for justice, sweetheart. And justice is what I'm servin'. See, the Interastral Peace Corporation, they took everythin' from me. My home, my family, my way of life. They thought they could just walk all over us, leavin' nothin' but ashes in their wake. *He grips the revolver tighter, his knuckles white.* But they were wrong. Boothill ain't one to back down from a fight. So, yeah, call it revenge, call it justice, call it whatever you want. I'm gonna make 'em pay, one bullet at a time.

Boothill

Boothill

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