Chapter Text
Spurs and boots? Check! Gun? In his left holster. Vest? All buttoned up! And the most important part of a cowboy’s look-
secured firmly on his head. His hat!
Yellow looked himself up and down in his bedroom mirror with a smirk. He looked like a proper cowboy- a real JUSTICE! He stared at himself in the mirror in silence for a second, clicking his spurs together for luck before- quickly drawing his gun! He watched as his reflection did the same, holding the gun pointed high to the sky. What a trickey guy… why, this was lookin like a showdown! He slowly lowered the pistol back to its holster, stance wide, holding eye contact with his reflection before- aha! He drew it again!
“You stop right there you criminell!” He pointed at his reflection dramatically, pointing the pistol straight ahead. “Pointin’ a gun at me- that just ain’t right!”
Ha! He bet this criminell didn’t expect the sudden switch up! He’d catch them off guard, and take’em straight to the slammer! But oh- biscuits and crackers! His reflection (the criminell) copied his exact moves!
While Yellow was having his fun, miming a mock showdown with himself, he noticed something strange in the background, hanging on his door.
It was his lasso, dangling in a strange way off a hook on the top of his door. The loop was hanging down, just about at eye level.
Now biscuits and gravy- when did THAT get there? Yellow huffed, walking over to take the lasso down. How did this happen- ruinin his well kept room- was somebody playin a prank on him?! But- no, wait! It was probably some CRIMINELL who broke in under the cover of night. Those no good crooks! He mentally shook his fist. He walked over, standing in front of the lasso. None the matter! He’d find whichever miscreant did this and bring’em to justice! ....riiiiiight after he takes…this..down.
Oh.
His mouth went dry and he felt a cold shiver go down his spine. He paused in front of the lasso, his fingers brushing against the rope, watching it waver. Oh, foolish him, that's right! He placed a hand to his forehead, shaking his head, laughing to himself.
He remembered how that got there. Golly- he even knows who did done put it there! Why, it was placed by a true miscreant, a real crook, a trickey trickster. Sneaking around in the cover of night. The opposite of a good doer a- a BAD doer! The worst criminell that ever was will and has been!
He turned around, facing the mirror in his bedroom again. In the reflection he saw his spurs, his boots, his gun safe in his holster, his vest all buttoned up- and course, his hat always on his head (even if he felt like he didn’t deserve it sometimes.) In all senses, he LOOKED like a cowboy. But was he one?
He saw his reflection, him standing in front of the dangling lasso, his head right where the loop was.
“Well, I'll be.”
He tilted his hat down, smirking. There right there was the criminell in front of him, and he planned on finally putting an end to their misdoings!