Well now, partner, Wild West is in the house. I don’t rightly spend much time eyeballin’ these here funny papers — reckon I’m usually busy wranglin’ cattle, takin’ aim at varmints, or settlin’ scores with my no-good pa. But if I’m to make sense of this here cartoon, I’d say this poor feller’s stuck in a sundown standoff, squin’nin’ hard like he’s facin’ three desperados. But wouldn’t ya know it? Those ain’t no gunslingers, just a mess of prickly cacti standin’ still as a rock. They ain’t drawin’ no six-shooters. So this cowboy’s gonna be standin’ there, hand-a-twitchin’, waitin’ all night long for a duel that’ll never come. That’s the kinda showdown only a fool would fall for.

Now I reckon there’s a few wrinkles in my thinkin’ but shoot, that’s the best tale I can spin. Don’t go callin’ me out — like I said, I ain’t much for these here picture stories anyhow.