Y'know what I like best about the porch?
You guys have expressed the exact same sentiments that I also feel.
Which leaves me free for a bit of fatuous ,puerile humour.
So I imagine a noble frontiersman ,lets call him Jock, walking into the local Sheffield trading post armed with his trusty twin Bullnoses.
Two desperado fur trappers are inside.They are boozed up on rough frontier whisky.
When the door creaks open they cease and stare at the newcomer.
"Weel look'ee here! Its Mr chain lightnin' hisself" slurs one.
"Now I ain't lookin' fer no trouble boys." says Jock in his best Josey Wales voice," Barkeep,Jest gimme a big cee-gar fer Christmas."
"Watch 'im Zeke! he's meaner 'n a Rattler 'n twice as quick with them Bullnoses." says the other starting to panic and drawing out a massive Booey knife from a buckskin fringed sheath.
The two toughs rise intent on the bounty money. The furniture gets shoved aside and menacingly they start towards Jock. The first is cut down. A hail of razor sharp vintage coins embedded in his skull using the ninja shuriken technique.
"Why you dirty, lowdown Coyote...." bellows the other advancing on Jock in a blind rage.When, at that very moment, a large male Bison recently escaped from Sheffield Zoological gardens bursts through the wall of the store and tramples the trapper in a terrifying tornado of horn and hoof,turns and trots towards town.(and thats the best alliteration you'll get in this thread.)
Jock calmly picks up his cigar from the counter,slips it in his top pocket,tips his hat to the barkeep who manages to stutter "Who's gonna pay fer all this damage 'n sech mister?"
Jock turns back.
"I reckon the bull knows. Why don't yer ask him?"