(From the shadows) Buen duelo, Sheriff. Pero para la próxima ronda... (A second Ace lands next to it.) ...traemos a dos Sheriffs.

SHERIFF REYES stands alone in the middle of the street. His badge reflects the blinding sun. Six bullet holes in his duster. He doesn’t flinch.

Dust swirls between two rows of abandoned saloons. The wind howls. A single tumbleweed rolls past a crooked gallows.