You fuckin' here to play detective? I wanna get our shit sold an' see the sights!

[Of places that don't suck. Of places where he can actually ride his motorcycle, practice the shit he's supposed to be learning. A train full of spooky people isn't really his personal concern when they could be off having fun, riding until sunrise.

But Chrissy somehow fucking faceplants into a wheelbarrow, and he groans and goes to help her out.]

Aw, shit, c'mon, gimme your hand.

[Wheelbarrow guy is rightly startled too, of course - but Johnnie is quick to get in there and help, leaving little for him to do but apologize. That's one dusty, dirty wheelbarrow, though.

And that asshole is backing away, looking more startled than expected even for what just happened. Johnnie rights Chrissy and helps her brush dirt off her clothes, but gives an eyebrow raise at the just-as-dusty worker.]

Hey, man. It's cool. We're good.

[Seems just as spooked as the saloon dude. So what's with the Irish guy being so casual, then?

Oh, fuck it.]

Hey - you. Hold up. What's that train about, over there?