The Mayor cantered along the high street on horseback, olive green poncho wrapped around his torso, fingers tightly clasped onto an antique Remington rifle, eyes narrowed underneath a well-worn stetson and aimed at any potential lawbreakers that dared test his authority. "Will you please get down, Barry?" pleaded his exasperated assistant. "It's just a few cacti on the village green. Your family is getting concerned and we're already ten minutes late for a pensioners meeting".