Jack can barely finish his food. He can't believe that he had somehow, by some special grace, made it to the next round. Jack was used to turning heads with his talent but that was back in Texas, the people there hadn't seen many exciting things in their lifetime but this? Who knows the wonders that these modern folks have seen?

He heard murmurs through the walls of how some of his fellow contestants had lost, something that struck a strange fear and new wave of determination in him. Determination to win. He wondered to himself as he forced his feet forward about how serious the next task would be. Hopefully, this one will be even more to his advantage.

His guide stops, holding up swaying curtains to allow him entry back to the stage. The silence was as bothersome as before, eerie as he stepped foot on the stage. As hot as the start, the lights from above beam down his neck and head, wetting his golden hair with sweat. Stopping in front of the newly gathered crowd who looks up to him with eager expectation, he can only return their looks of bewilderment.

Young and old, those dressed in bright vibrant colors, furs, and velvet and some even adorned in casual clothes all shared that same look, a look that made Jack believe that these people aren't real. Here they are, watching and waiting but it's all an act. Jack's mind began to race with accusations. "They aren't as oblivious as they seem. They know something I don't. They know everything I don't."

The microphone, that funny modern thing that amplifies the voice waits for him. Placing his hand in the neck, his eyes sweep the crowd.

"Howdy, my friends." Jack almost chuckled at himself. He knew nothing of these people and his suspicion was at an all time high yet his southern charm refused to leave.

He waited for them to greet them but their dead stares remained.

"Are you ready, Jack?" Skylar's voice came overhead in the form of a rhetoric.

Jack only nodded. He figured that Skylar was perched somewhere above, waiting for him to reveal overconfidence.

"This round, your task is to make us laugh. Simple? Perhaps. You have been given a box on the left of the stage with items if you need them but standup is fine as well. You may start now."

Jack cast a glance at the box but knew touching it might be his downfall. The West taught him that a laugh could be bought with little more than a few words and just his intentions. Grabbing hold of the cool, smooth metal neck of the microphone, he allowed himself to survey the audience again. With a silent sigh of disappointment, not a single person in the audience gave a hint to what could score a deep belly laugh.

Jack tilts his hat towards the crowd. "Howdy, folks! I'm Doc Jack Archer, the fastest gun in the West and the best surgeon in the East. I can shoot a bullet through your heart and stitch it up before you hit the ground. That's what I call a heart bypass. I'm here to make you laugh and maybe cure some of your ailments. But don't worry, I won't charge you an arm and a leg. Just a kidney and a spleen."

His charming grin comes to life, a few chuckles sprouting up from the audience. Still, the overwhelming extent of the gathered seems hellbent on stoicism.

"You know, being a doctor cowboy is not easy. You have to deal with all kinds of dangers and diseases. Like rattlesnakes, bandits, dysentery, and worst of all, insurance companies. They're always trying to deny my claims and cut my fees. They say I'm not a real doctor, just because I don't have a fancy diploma or a license or a malpractice suit. Well, excuse me for being self-taught. I learned everything I know from reading books and experimenting on myself. And let me tell you, it works. Just look at me. I'm healthy as a horse. A dead horse, but still."

A few more laughs and he lifts his chin with surging confidence.

"But seriously, folks, I do care about my patients. I try to give them the best treatment possible, with the tools and resources I have. Which are not many, to be honest. Sometimes I have to improvise and use whatever I can find. Like a cactus needle, a whiskey bottle, a lasso, or a bullet. Hey, don't knock it till you try it. It might hurt a bit, but it's better than nothing. And it's cheaper than going to a hospital. Those places are rip-offs. They charge you for everything. The bed, the food, the medicine, the surgery, the funeral. It's outrageous."

Some nod in agreement.

"But the worst part of being a doctor cowboy is the insurance. You have no idea how hard it is to get reimbursed by the Pony Express. They always lose my claims or say they never received them. And then they have the nerve to charge me extra for the stamps. I tell you, it's enough to make me want to hang up my hat and holster... and my scalpel and stethoscope."

"Then there's the competition. You see, there are other doctor cowboys out there who want to take my place. They think they are better than me. They challenge me to duels and surgeries. They try to steal my patients and my reputation. They are always looking for a way to make me look bad. And they have some dirty tricks up their sleeves. Like the other day, I had to operate on a man who had a bullet in his brain. I opened his skull and found out that the bullet was actually a note from another doctor cowboy. It said, "I got here first. Better luck next time, Doc." I said, "Well, that's just rude."

Gasps and sharp but quick barks of laughter sway the crowd, pushing them into his hands.

"You see if we were telling jokes about our unfortunate situations my horse and pet cougar could have done an entire routine complaining about me but They're back in the stables getting some water. But let's hear it for those two - our four-legged friends make life all better, don't they now?"

Jack relishes the attention but as the beaming lights grow hotter on his skin, the more he wants to draw it to an end. Claps ripple through the crowd as if he had caught them in their soft spot and stolen their hearts.

"So, if you ever need a doctor, come see me. I'll take good care of you. And if I can't, I'll make sure you die with a smile on your face. Thank you, thank you. You've been a great audience. Don't forget to tip your waitress and your doctor. Good night!"

Tilting his hat to the audience, proud of himself for destroying their dead face masks, he could only drown in a smile that was hard to contain.