In Tommy Maaltman's Wild, Wild, West, trouble finds Lassiter.

Lassiter didn't have to look for trouble. Trouble found him. Thirsty, after a day's riding on the purple sage, Lassiter strolled into the Hole In The Wall Saloon and immediately noticed three well known cattle rustlers, Trampas, Shamus and Quint sitting at the corner table huddled together like rats, drinking cheap rot gut rye whiskey and nibbling on shelled dry roasted peanuts. Ignoring them, Lassiter walked to the bar and sat down next to Father O'Brien, the drunken, itinerant clergyman preaching Fire and Brimstone in the West for Sunday tiding plate offerings. Thinking Lasssiter was looking for them the cattle rustlers got up and quickly scurried out of the establishment. Lassiter ordered two glasses of Glenglassaugh, aged in oak 28 years, vol. 51.1% with a light gold color, cotton candy nose, red currants, nail polish remover, and vanilla tea taste, and a vanilla custard and glycine finish and gave one to the Padre. After finishing his dram, Lassiter walked out the door into a moonless, pitch black night. In the alley behind the saloon, Lassiter's steely grey, bobcat like eyes noticed three figures and said, "Gents, draw your steel.". A second later three blinding white flashes illuminated the alley followed by the thunderous repercussions of blazing 44 magnum Smith and Wesson six shooters. The Padre came staggering out of the saloon and saw Lassiter standing over the three rustlers' lifeless bodies each with a bullet hole between their eyes and the back of their skulls blown off, and said to Lassiter slurring, "What do you want me to do with them?" Lassiter said, " Bury them on Boot Hill next to the Gambler, but don't bother to dig three holes. Put 'em all in one since the three of 'em don't amount to one good honest sod buster. And Padre, don't bother to pray for their souls. They're already in Hell." Slainte, Tommy Maaltman