There I was, trapped in Beggar’s Canyon. Mexican Desperadoes to the South of me, Canadian Mounties closing in on the North, Texas Rangers riding in on the West and that dratted Pinkerton Agent to the East.
Suddenly, I hear a sound of neighing and a faint echo reverberating throughout the hills “Hey Ho Silver!” I was saved! Then my heart sank and I began to quake in my boots, for I heard the ghostly clank of etheral chains. Only one entity that I knew of rode a Silver horse with Ghostly Chains, yes, the dreaded Psychic Grandma!
I began to pray that Johnny English would arrive first and arrest me. I’d much rather listen to him drone on about soft cheeses than deal with Psychic Grandma berate me for being a second class outlaw.
And with that, I believe I have ridden the Psychic Grandma schtick into the ground. Adios pardners!