An old woman rode her old mule into town.
She walked up and tied her old mule to a hitching post.
As she stood there, brushing some of the dust from her face and clothes, a young gunslinger stepped out of the saloon with a gun in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other.
The young gunslinger looked at the old woman and laughed,” Hey old woman. Have you ever danced?”
The old woman looked up at the gunslinger and said, “No, I never did dance… Never really wanted to.”
A crowd had gathered as the gunslinger grinned and said, “Well, you old bag, you’re gonna dance now,” and started shooting at the old woman’s feet.
The old woman prospector, not wanting to get a toe blown off, started hopping around.
Everybody was laughing When his last bullet had been fired, the young gunslinger, still laughing, holstered his gun and* turned around to go back into the saloon.
The old woman turned to her pack mule, pulled out a double-barreled shotgun, and tool both hammers.
The loud clicks carried clearly through the desert air.
The crowd stopped laughing immediately.
The young gunslinger heard the sounds, too, and he turned around very slowly.
The silence was almost deafening.
The crowd watched as the young gunman stared at the old woman and the large gaping holes of those twin barrels.
The barrels of the shotgun never wavered in the old woman’s hands, as she quietly said,
“Son, have you ever kissed a mule?”
The gunslinger swallowed hard and said, “No ma’am… But…. I’ve always wanted to.”