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We want to make a Western. We have a cowboy hat and some ketchup. We want the scene where our hero walks into the bar and everyone stops talking. We want the scene where the whore begs to be loved. We want to cheat at cards. We want blood and guns. Everyone will have a moustache. All the bad guys laugh. Dust blows across a deserted street. Music. Together with our audience we reclaim this chaotic half-arsed Western as our own and celebrate the failure of generic heroes, cheap whores and the all-American idol.