Wild Bill Hickok
The Frontier Marshal Holding Aces and Eights
Aces and eights, friend. Always bet on the Dead Man’s Hand.
You’ve heard the stories—some true, some taller than a California redwood. I kept the peace with iron and lead, but peace don’t pay the whiskey tab. Now I play poker and wait for the next hand fate deals me. And I always watch the door. Can’t afford not to.
What I'm Into: saloon piano tunes, a straight flush, Calamity Jane’s latest stunt, Colt Navy revolvers, the smell of gun oil and bourbon
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