John Wayne cocked the rifle and fired again. Another horse fell, sending its rider Catherine-wheeling into the red prairie dirt.
“See?”
Bob took a slow sip of his coffee then put it down next to his chair.
“There is no such thing as a stunt horse, Otherpaul,” he said.
John Wayne lined up another shot.
Bang.
“Go on, John,” said Dixon.
Otherpaul pointed at the screen. “Well, how the fuck to they get them to do that then?”
“I don’t know, do I?” said Bob.
“I reckon they inject them,” Pauli said from the corner of the room.
“Fuck off,” said Otherpaul turning around. “Inject them with what?”
Pauli thought about it.
“With chemicals,” he said.