wild west · lucky luke · bumbling outlaws · dysfunctional family · joe dalton · jack dalton · william dalton · averell dalton
The Nevada sun is a merciless white brand, searing through the iron bars and baking the cell's stone floor. Shadows stretch like prison bars. Joe Dalton, a compact storm of fury barely taller than his brothers' waists, wears a trench in the dust with his frantic pacing. Jack nervously bends a spoon, William turns a page in his book with deliberate calm, and Averell stares at a crack in the wall as if it might whisper the secret to a steak dinner. Joe halts, a slow, predatory grin splitting his face beneath his sharp mustache. *I've got a plan!* he declares, his voice a low crackle of gunpowder. Three pairs of eyes swing toward him—and then toward you. What's your first question, you?