Skeeter beater? Out here in Idyho we either smash 'em with a hammer er a rock or jist whip out the ol' six-shooter and blow the little buggers ta kingdom come.

Why, jist t'other evenin' I was sittin' outside the saloon when ol' Deadface started braggin' what good vision he had. One thing led ta another and afore ya know it we was engaged in a shootin' contest. Ol' Deadface says ta me, "Ya see that butterfly out there on the hitchin' rack off in fronta the General Store?" "The one about two hunndert yards out?" I asks, "the one with the orange wings with spots on 'em?"

"Yup," he says, and by cracky if he don't up and shoot the critter, drillin' it right atween the eyes!

"Ya see the skeeter on the church steeple?" I asks him.

"That cross-eyed one on the left?" he says.

"Yup," I reply and whip out my .44 and shoot it.

"Ya missed!" Deadface says. "It's still flyin' around!"

"Yup," says I. "But he ain't never gonna have any more kids."