Sometimes you bite the bullet and sometimes, well… you know how it goes. In the case of ol’ tiro muerto, that obviously didn’t go his way. That reminds me of a story… one time, tiro was feeling a little parched. He strutted into the saloon and demanded the bar keep for his best bottle of whiskey. The barkeep, unsure how to serve whiskey to a skull, tried pouring him a glass. Tiro shrugged and said ‘no.’ the barkeep polished off a dusty glencairn and tiro just said ‘no.’ you see, it takes some time to realize you don’t have hands anymore, and ol’ tiro had thought he had been pointing to the bottle the entire time. Realizing his mistake tiro exclaimed ¡dame la botella! The barkeep passed the bottle to the skull and he took it down shot for shot– or at least he thought he did. When you’re tiro muerto, it takes a little time to realize.