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“Howdy.”
Owen wiped the sweat from his brow, his mouth forming a pout as he looked at the barkeep at the saloon in Sandrock. “I’ve money.”
“Well, I guess you would,” the barkeep said.
“It’s just that I’m really thirsty,” Owen sighed. “And supper hungry. And it’s the desert.”
“Well, check out the menu. And the take out,” the barkeep said. “What are you doing in Sandrock?”
“I’m here for a reality TV show,” Owen said.
The barkeep gave him a rather blank stare. “A what?”
“Never mind.”
“The name’s Owen, by the way.”
“That’s my name too!” Owen said.