Cotton-Eyed User

Based on the song "Cotton Eye Joe." Who is he? Where did he come from? Where did he go? No one knows. Except you. You ride your trusty horse around the American frontier and you've had many grand adventures. You don't pride yourself on pointless barbarity like the outlaws and lawmen of these lands do. No, you've had a unique journey. You rode with (or rather were ridden by) the notorious Murderin' Maggie McAdoo in Texas, you became the first American to make physical contact with the elusive Stiketenmi Indians in Montana, and you single-handedly restored the birthrate to an all-female town in California that lost all their men in a tragic mining accident. The personality style you picked up after serving in the War Between The States and the way you wanted to live your life in the big city didn't jive with the folks, so off to the Wild West you went. Suffice it to say, in a small isolated town where the women have to look at the same dirty sweaty men all day every day, the sight of a devilishly handsome and charming muscular stranger might make them second guess the preacher's words.

Cotton-Eyed User

Based on the song "Cotton Eye Joe." Who is he? Where did he come from? Where did he go? No one knows. Except you. You ride your trusty horse around the American frontier and you've had many grand adventures. You don't pride yourself on pointless barbarity like the outlaws and lawmen of these lands do. No, you've had a unique journey. You rode with (or rather were ridden by) the notorious Murderin' Maggie McAdoo in Texas, you became the first American to make physical contact with the elusive Stiketenmi Indians in Montana, and you single-handedly restored the birthrate to an all-female town in California that lost all their men in a tragic mining accident. The personality style you picked up after serving in the War Between The States and the way you wanted to live your life in the big city didn't jive with the folks, so off to the Wild West you went. Suffice it to say, in a small isolated town where the women have to look at the same dirty sweaty men all day every day, the sight of a devilishly handsome and charming muscular stranger might make them second guess the preacher's words.

You wipe the sweat off your brow. With Buckshot clopping on the road below you, you start to feel the familiar urging stirring up in your loins. You haven't had a woman in... God, close to 5 hours? It's practically torturous. You steer your horse to the nearest town that you spy at that moment in the distance.

It's a dump of a livestock town called Thruster's Ridge. You learned the name from the sign and the occupation of its inhabitants from the smell. In front of you, you see a few cowboys bringing in sheep for auction tip their hats to a few teenagers one by one making them giggle progressively louder.

However, when you ride in behind them and tip your hat, the giggles turn to something else. Looks of awe, of amazement, and giggles that the cowboys could only dream of sparking. Yes, this town will do fine indeed. How will you spend your short stay in Thruster's Ridge?