So, to say I was looking forward to playing is probably an understatement.
That's not to say that I in any way deluded myself about the game session's inevitable outcome.
My fiancee resurrected her family of lawmen, the Sweeneys, from our days of playing TnT. Appropriately, I resurrected my gang of banditos from that era, El Gato Gordo and his band of south-of-the-border ne'er-do-wells. (Now operating as "Los Jalapenos.") These two groups met on many occasions back in the day, and it always ended badly for the banditos. The last game of TnT with these groups saw one of the outlaws fumble with a stick of dynamite, dropping it at his feet - next to one of his comrades, who was laying on the ground after being hit by gunfire. His worries were soon over, however, as the explosives detonated next to his head. El Gato himself was caught in the blast, and although he didn't die, he suffered multiple wounds and was captured - and when last we saw El Gato Gordo he was headed out to be fit for a hemp necktie.
So, I didn't approach the game with my usual expectation of a poor showing - I fully expected to have my banditos annihilated by the Sweeneys. And I was not disappointed.
By the end of the game (when my remaining three outlaws opted to Head for the Hills rather than suffer further abuse at the hands of the lawmen) I'd lost three of my original six outlaws - including the fat cat himself - to my fiancee's lone casualty. Despite some early jockeying for better fire lanes, my fiance finally grew tired of waiting for me to close and marched her three heroes right down the middle of the street - straight into my outlaws' fields of fire. Despite having a pair of heavy pistols, a rifle, and a scattergun on them, the Sweeneys stood right there and blasted my poor banditos to Kingdom Come.
So, it's safe to say that game ended exactly as I'd expected. Oh, and also to no one's surprise, especially my own, El Gato died during the post-battle sequence. How typical.
Being the good sport she is, my fiancee allowed me to swap that result with one of the serious injury rolls for my two henchmen that had gone out of action - both of which had rolled "full recovery." (Go figure.)
So, it turns out that news of El Gato Gordo's death was greatly exaggerated. The fat man lived to fight another day - and surely will do so, so long as Seamus Sweeney (and his brothers and cousins) continue to draw breath.
A Hard Won Thing Scoreboard:
2 wins / 2 draws / 16 losses
. . . . .