It was a dark and stormy night; the kind that leaves a lingering taste of despair on the tip of your tongue. I leaned back in my chair, listening to the rain pelt against the window behind me. A crash of thunder. A bolt of lightning. And then a knock on the door. Startled, I leveled myself and stared straight ahead.

"Who is it?" I called out, holding my six shooter cocked and ready underneath the desk--a visitor this late was a rare occurrence.

"I was told you're in the business of solving problems." Her voice drifted through the wooden barrier and smoothly across the room in a near whisper. Then the door creaked open and there she stood, tall and pale as the moonlight, as gorgeous as she was poisonous, holding a severed head in her right hand. "Well I have a bit of a situation here."

My voice caught in my throat; words wouldn't escape my mouth. Eyes wide and fixated on the sight before me, I blindly reached for a pen and scribbled on a piece of paper, holding it up to express myself to this deadly dame: "Gasp!"

(A huge thank you to Threadless for printing this design of mine, and an even huger thank you to everyone who voted for and bought it!)