In Tommy Maaltman's Wild, Wild West, Lassiter finds God

Lassiter woke up early the next morning and after making some strong black coffee, put out the fire, saddled Blaze and broke camp. He spent the next several days exploring the Grand Canyon getting quite a good work out for a man who built, smoked and inhaled thirty to forty filterless cigarettes a day. Heading East, he followed a tributary of the Colorado River through some of the most beautiful pine forested, high desert plains he had ever seen. At dusk, he found an idyllic campsite next to a gurgling brook full of cutthroat trout. Lassiter built a campfire, made a cooking rest for his wrought iron skillet and threw in one half pound of lard to heat. After spearing and cleaning a mess of cutthroat he placed them in the skillet to fry in the sizzling hot grease and got ready for a relaxing evening of eating crispy fried fish and drinking cask strength single malt Scotch whisky. He choose a Bowmore 18 year old, 43 vol. with a mahogany color, malt and subtle peat nose, floral and sherry taste and a long nutty lingering peaty finish. Feeling fully satiated, he laid out his bedroll. Sitting on top of it, resting up against his saddle, he tipped his head back and looked up into the magnificent pitch black sky illuminated with millions of sparkling, twinkling stars, comets and a full moon. As he admired the awe inspiring beauty of it all, he thought to himself, I'll be got damned if there ain't no God and I'll shoot the som bitch in the head who don't believe there's an almighty up there who made all of this. Amen brother. Slainte, Tommy Maaltman