[Yep, Arthur is drunk. Good lord, he's very drunk. He had about five shots of whiskey before he lost count and he doesn't have Lenny around to sober him up. So, yes. He's drunk and brandishing a loaded pistol up against this feller's back. That's exactly what's happening here and Arthur isn't feeling very proud of himself right now. Not at all.]

What's your problem, feller?! [He mutters as he pokes the barrel of his revolver harder against the man's back.] I got a gun pointed at you and you wanna make chit chat?

Can't you tell I'm robbin' you?!

[An annoyed huff escapes Arthur as he lowers the gun a little. He doesn't have his heart in it but the firearm is still drawn. This big drunk fool don't seem to realize he's being played like a fiddle. Oh, well. It beats him having his ass locked up in a jail cell.

This big dummy could use a sympathetic ear.]

Connor, huh? [He pauses for a moment as if trying to come up with an alias. It's quite obvious that his gears are spinning but Arthur is drunk as hell and thinking hurts right about now.] Ain't that an Irish name? I think I met an Irishman with that name before back in Valentine.

[The outlaw pauses for a moment before finally giving his name.]

The name's Arthur, feller. Arthur.