SPAM, a huge key-tin of spicy meat-substitute slid slithering open and everyone but Tom gasped! He did not know why he was so composed but this was high time for a good swashbuckling!
"Although a little slice couldn't hurt" he heard the piano forte say jovially. "Take em away boys."
Tom had felt deja vu before but this, this house of ghosts and grilled spam was too extreme. With a last look at the Mariachi musicians, Tom strummed away.
Pushing through the swinging saloon doors, sword at his hip, guitar in hand, Tom reticently ______d above him. Tumbleweed ______ _____ all around.
He hummed a ______ tune, remembered _____ from a ______.
He felt the hair prickle on the back of his neck as d_____ ahead the ____-_____ broke away and shouted loudly " ________ ______, Tom!!!"
Tom shuddered, his ____ cracking, and he _________.