He was standing there, at the end of the street, waiting. He had his hand in his pocket, and he had a gun in a holster on his right, just in case. His stance suggested that he owned the place. Well, he did. He was the new sheriff in town. His figure was silhouetted against the sunset behind him. The sun was casting shadows on the street's houses and bars, while creating a spectacular light show in the sky. He slowly sauntered to the nearest saloon.
He opened the double-hinged doors and let them swing behind him. The people in the saloon stopped what they were doing. Several of them were in mid poker game. The cards lay scattered on the table, and some were even on the floor from fights over cheating. A girl stood behind a man, holding a glass, ready to swing. Some of them were at the bar hunched over their drinks as if someone were going to steal them. Everyone was staring at the new sheriff.
He walked over to the bar. "One," was all he said. The bartender knew what to do. He poured a pint and gave it to the new sheriff. It helps to know your favourite's orders. The sheriff sat down, and drank. Everyone was still staring. Suddenly, the sheriff turned around and stared back. At exactly the same instant, everyone went back to what they were doing. The sound of a glass smashing was heard. The sheriff smiled and went back to his drink.
The previous sheriff had been getting really old by the time they sent out for a new one. When the new sheriff arrived, the old one was almost on his deathbed. It was time for him to move on. The new one had only been in the post for a couple days, most of the residents hadn't had time to get to know him. Slowly, he reached for his gun. He turned around again to look over the saloon. He noticed the poker players were still staring at him. He pointed the gun, and -
"Bang!" He shouted.
"Okay, play time over!" Mum called through from the living room.