I thought by now I'd be able to actually aim at those twelves and maybe even hit a few...seems like I'm goin' backwards instead...I gotta get Cloud to give me some lessons. Ol' Clawed has turned into a shootin' machine but he won't tell me his secret...maybe its that corn soup he makes in that still thing up behind the house...if it is, he ain't sharin'...all he'll share is that old stale tabaccy he keeps in a baggie in his back pocket.
No announcement yet.
I thought by now...Page Title Module
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