"Or what if your arm was a rifle? Like you just lift it up and boom-boom! Right between the eyes, no more head! Which would make you a terrible bounty hunter because how could you prove that the alien scum you were bringing in to the sherriff was actually the guys on the poster? But deputy monkey would feel bad for you anyway and pay you in bananas."

He probably shouldn't have mentioned the arm, he thought suddenly as it lightly brushed against him, rigid and cold. It didn't bother him. He didn't make a big deal about it and instead reached down to grab one of the books and flip to a clean page.

Hopefully he could just sketch away his faux pas, outlining an individual in a big duster with a sort of medicine man gas mask on, tube connecting from the mouth to a tank on his back. He left one arm, the left, uncovered and the. Flipped another page to detail the palm with a barrel opening extending from it, metal fingers hooked outwards.

"You're too cool for a cowboy hat-- oh, this mask should be more like a metal bandana..."