Click on the above to get into a western rhythmic mode.
The swing doors of the Wild West saloon crashed open and in came Little Pesky, red with fury. "All right!" he raged, "all right! Who did it? What goldarned varmint painted my horse blue?" A furry figure and notorious gunfighter rose from a chair by the door. "It was me, shrimp," she drawled, bunching his furry paws, "what about it?" "Oh, well, er," stammered little Pesky wretchedly, "all I wanted to say was. . .when are you going to give it another coat?"