“ Yes, I am Deadwood Dick, the celebrated cuss from Custer clime— the diabolical devil-may-care devotee of road-agency, from Deadwood the hunted hurricane, Harris, just as you see me. And according to a recent act of Congress, if you or any other two-legged individual attempts to harm yonder girl, whoever she may be, I’ll agree to furnish him with a free pass over Jordan by the most direct ethereal line. I mean business, so let some pilgrim of enterprising disposition open the market. Young lady, you may descend from the bar, and go to your room, or home. I’ll agree to take care of any number of these cusses who may attempt to prevent you!
http://library.stanford.edu/depts/dp/pennies/texts/wheeler_toc.html
VIRUS
You've seen this reel before. You know how it ends. But it gets better every time.
VIRUS feed.
VIRUS mobile.
VIRUS is a truck out on the four-way, a mile or more away.
But it's the light in your VIRUS that keeps me warm.
VIRUS has all the fresh flavor of just-brewed drip coffee. Your husband will say, Christ, Sally, I used to think your coffee was only so-so. But now, wow! Safe when taken as directed.
VIRUS is a machine for making choices.
VIRUS: the spring in your step.
VIRUS promises a soft manageability, and it delivers.
VIRUS is the end to that.
VIRUS is your quiet smile as you run into an old friend on the street.
VIRUS welcomes you with a firm handshake of carbon monoxide.
VIRUS.
VIRUS is a welcome cup of coffee on a hot morning.
VIRUS is a windswept vista through your polycarbonate riot shield.
VIRUS is the social.
VIRUS holds you in its long petro- chemical arms.
VIRUS reconfigures cities. For breakfast.
VIRUS.