Draw, A 100 Word Story

The pistolero stood at the end of the main street. His hat sat low on his head shielding his eyes from the large orange sun. Behind him off in the distance were huge green three pronged cacti, and jagged grey mountains.
His horse was tethered in front of a tall narrow building that leaned oddly to the left. A crooked, poorly lettered sign over the batwing doors read simply “SALOON”.
At the other end of the street stood a giant green T-rex with a drop of saliva hanging from one triangle tooth.
“Lunchtime!”
Tommy dropped his crayon and ran downstairs.