As we have learned, the beginning was a donut. The end, therefore, is spaghetti. Westerns of that variety, anyhow: windswept plains and rolling tumbleweeds, a be-holstered thigh and cowboy-capped noggin, scraggly cheeks. It is noon, and the sun is high, so we shall say high noon. An American saunters along the wooden sidewalk. Click clack goes a bullet chambered.
Jamie Iredell, Book of Freaks, Future Tense.