I'm not being paid for this. I only wish i owned Firefly and if wishes were horses...well, yeah...

Forgot what month it was again…don’t even know the gorram world we’re standin on.

Hm. Need more ta drink.

It had been a pretty lousy day. Serenity’s crew was laid up on somesuch lousy backwater moon. Jayne had found the trashiest bar in the trashiest part of the whole trashy town. He was comfortable enough for the time being

“Nice hat,” smiled the barman. Again.

Why does he say that every time I buy a drink from that guy?

There’s an awful lotta snickerin goin on. People are lookin’ at me

Jayne never did like to be looked at overmuch. But before any more introspection was required, one of the locals solved the problem of how this was all going to come to a head.

“Say there, stranger,” said the drunk. “What kinna man wears a piece-a le suh like that on his head?”

That, or considerably less, was quite the limits of what Jayne was going to tolerate from anyone. Much less some drunk who just insulted his hat. His mamma made this hat, and it’d be a cold day before –

All of a sudden Jayne noticed his hand hurt. A quick survey of the surrounding area revealed that Jayne was indeed standing. The drunk was not. Probably because he was rolling around on the ground with his face in his hands.

Ah. Must be why my hand hurt

His work done before he knew it, Jayne elected to make a quick exit. He stepped out into the evening dusk.

“Well, my work here’s done,” he stated to nobody in particular. “What else is there to do?”

“Well, Cobb, you could just raise ‘em high and walk how I tells ya.”

With all the eloquence one could imagine, the hammer on the pistol submitted an equally intriguing rationale for why Jayne should do exactly what the Angry Voice said.