First story:
Buster Stegerus walked slowly towards the picture winding the path,
The mountains and cliffs behind him reflect the twists and turns and dangers he has experienced in the past.
White coat, white horse, a guitar,
Playing elegant ballads, describing the white horse named "Dan" under his crotch,
And the name that once rang through the Westworld.
He is like the unknown guest in "The Wilderness",
walking in a dangerous world,
Enjoy the pleasure and revenge brought by bullets and blood.
He playfully kills challengers one by one,
singing happily
And chatter that is characteristic of talkers.
However, a dashing victory always brings self-confidence and inflation,
The price is forgetting the rules of the cowboy world and ignoring the consequences of losing a duel game.
"you seen, you play!"
The narcissistic face in the mirror calmly killed the last person who had offended him.
The premonition of death is approaching,
Black clothes, dark horses, melodious harmonica,
Confirmed eyes,
Faster, stronger, younger.
Same line:
"Do you need me to count down?"
The same defiant,
It's just that this time I couldn't see the action of the opponent drawing the gun.
The bullet went through his hat
together with the head.
The curious way depicts a wonderful scene of out of body,
A Bob Dylan-esque ballad sings the dirge of a sharpshooter's fate.
The new Undertaker wrote the prelude to him.
And this mourner,
Black clothes, black horses, the same elegant musical instruments,
Started the same adventure as Buster.
Second story:
a trust bank,
slumped in a deserted wilderness,
With Koch's unique humor,
Absurd mockery of this endless evil.
Some hapless man played by James Frank,
With the rigid tug-of-war in cowboy films as always,
trust bank,
as far as he can see,
Like a fly staring at an easy lunch.
Draw, load, aim.
I don't want the boss to be a ruthless man,
A suit of pots and pans,
Not a perfect suit of armor,
You just can't hit him.
"Your bullet hit me in the pan"
"My butt hit you in the jaw",
The screen went black, thinking the story had come to an end.
Unexpectedly, it was the beginning of the absurd fate of the hapless,
The evidence does not cure him of his sin,
A hundred words can make him die,
Just like fate gives you encounters and never asks why.
Justice punishes the guilt of evil,
Who will accuse the frivolity and hypocrisy of justice.
Only the girl under the crowd (woman)
as far as the eye can see
Noble and holy.
The story is neither long nor short,
can be extended to a lifetime,
Shortness can also be frozen in the last moment by the lens:
He watched her,
A thousand years at a glance,
Live to death in the heart,
The noose around the neck suddenly tightened...
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