“Alright, I got the swag, let’s go!” said Baby-faced Joe as he leapt onto the buggy and jammed a fat cigar into his mouth.
“Huh?” replied the gnarled old goat from in between the shafts.
“Go goat, go! Giddyap!” said Joe, shaking the reins vigorously.
“Whur we goin?”
“We’ll head west to the Pecos and follow the river to Mexico, now git!” Joe growled, shaking at the reins again.
The goat began to shuffle forwards, the bell around its neck clunking with every other step.
“Git goin’ goat! Let’s go!”
“I feel sleepy…”
“Don’t stop now, come on! Git!”
“Awww, darn it!”