Peter Hale & Open
To say it was a shitting day would be an understatement. That morning Peter had been headed to the bar to do inventory, and as he had rounded the corner he bumped into an ugly ass angel. As he walked past it, he felt something grab his shoulder and then he was standing in the middle of the past.
It was Madison Valley, he knew that. He'd seen a few familiar storefronts, but really, no one could mistake the Lanier house for anything but what it was.
He was a little out of fashion for the times, but his jeans and button-down made it easy enough for him to slip by with just a few looks. The harder part was figuring out what he was going to do for money since what he had in his wallet didn't even exist yet. He was able to barter with a few of the saloons in town, trading labor for food and drink and some really meager wages.
At the moment, he was sitting behind one of those bars, eating what they called a meager lunch that was actually better than a McDonald's value meal.