Candy's Train Wreck: A Pride Month Misadventure
Sorry. I know it’s been a minute since I posted a video. Hope you like it. Not you, Candy. I know you’ll hate it.
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The Night the Saloon Stood Still
T here’s an old saying in the town of Dusty Ridge: “When Fifty’s Saloon doors swing open, anything can happen.” And on one unforgettable night, that saying rang truer than ever. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the desolate streets, Fifty unlocked the creaky front door of his saloon. The wooden sign above the entrance, swinging gently in the evening breeze, proclaimed in faded letters: “50’s Saloon - Where Legends Are Made.” Fifty, a man of few words but many tales, lit the lanterns, casting a warm, flickering glow throughout the rustic bar. Bottles of whiskey, rum, and gin lined the shelves behind the counter, their amber hues reflecting the light like liquid gold. The scent of aged oak and leather filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of tobacco. Regulars began to trickle in, each greeted with a nod or a gruff word from Fifty. There was Snake Plissken, a rugged man with an eyepatch, an obsessive-compulsive disorder, and a mysterious past that
