High Noon Locke for Locke

A fool strode into a burnt-out chapel looking for the only bounty hunter known to cross Hell's border. Drawing his "soul-savin' six-shooter," he demanded passage to claim a soul Hell had no right to keep. Reclining by the altar, Locke spun a molten nail between hell-blackened fingers and grinned. "No disrespect, friend, but what's dead, should stay dead.