Hi my name Jimmy Jonga. I'm a famous bandit. This is the story of my undoing. The day my partner and I tried to rob the bank of the town, Wagon Gap, we met the first bad omen. A dead rattle snake. In those days, it was said that if you passed a dead rattler, you got two years of bad luck. Well my partner and I didn't see it until we were past it. And what do ya know, my partner went and blamed me for not seeing it. We had a big fight and eventually, we split apart and that was that. Until we met trying to rob the same bank.
The bank was chock full of dough and it was a legend for all the bandits in the west. Well me and my partner (who's name is George) Were friends again and we came up with a plan. George was to go in and distract all the guards by shooting in the air and yelling "The Mexicans are attacking the Mexicans are attacking" over and over again. I was supposed to go into the bank and hold it up taking hostages and being silent about it. The robbery was going good, when the Mexicans actually did attack. (We were having trouble with the Mexicans for a long time and have had various fights) there was a lot of crossfire and my partner got hit in the knee and he fell, where four more bullets got 'im in the chest. I abandoned him and the money and I ran for my life because the Mexicans were winning. I was looking over my shoulder and next thing I know in the taste of dust, grit and blood in my mouth and I was aware of the pain blasting through my head. When I looked up, I was in the mercy of the Mexicans.
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