Garth
“Is that you, Garth? Is this me?”
Garth has gotten on in years, and well, his brain’s a little bit addled. Maybe it’s the drinking, though no one would call him a full-time drunkard, and maybe it’s all the bar brawls, though he won a lot more than he lost. More likely the bullet that ricocheted off his scalp a few years back knocked his noodle around a bit much, and now poor Garth has trouble remembering names, places, and even himself. Fortunately, his gun skills are still sharp as ever, and one can’t mistake a zombie for their own reflection in a looking glass.
