Tim's lips twitched. Since he knew that were he playing for real he'd absolutely win at gay chicken, he let Doc have the last word.

"How'd you do that?" Tim asked, settling back with his 'shine and a sincerely curious furrow between his eyebrows. "I've often thought about it, even gripped my pistol left just to see how it felt but it never set right in my palm. Wrist always feels too weak when I have it up against the beaver tail."