Mr. Amos:

You are impugning the honor (or, as he is Canadian and spells funny, honour) of my friend, Mr. Little Hawk. Sir, I cannot stand idly by while you do this. It is incumbent upon me to ask you to meet me so that you can wash out the stain of this with your blood. To this end, I have reserved the Idaho Legion's Memorial Softball Field and Field of Honor for tomorrow morning at dawn; a chirgeon will be present to staunch your blood, if possible, and bind your wounds. An undertaker will also be present and it is far more probable that you will be in need of her services than those of Ol' Doc Trey.

The choice of weapons is, of course, yours. I will recommend to your attention, however, that the Idaho Dueling Administration will not sanction anything other than rapiers or pistols of at least 12.7mm caliber.

Should you fail to appear, or should you appear and delope, you will be posted as a coward in Hank's Feed and Grain.

I remain, Sir, your friend,
Mr. Rapaire