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What do you get when you have a pure marksman against a cat with nine lives? 

Hello there, ladies & gentlemen. I'm your host, Wolverine, and today, I'm up in my commentary box and in the studios of the Sunset Pier. I'm proud to bring to you the great column we have here today that features two prominent stars of the newly minted world of duelling. 

Not seen since the days of cowboys and western charm, duelling fell out of its stardom for a few years, perhaps even a fucking decade but a grand community outreach was brought to the powers that be and they allowed it to take place. 

Well, ladies & gentlemen, what is all that fun if not given to some of the stars out in Los Angeles?

By the way, if you're in our lovely city, make sure to stop by our tailor, Cuff & Collars, where you'll get in and fit in however you want. 

Back to the news, my handsome & beautiful readers. 

We have something of a rivalry brewing here in the Dueller's Digest. 

Sponsored by the city of sin's marvellous CartoonHead, there is a man known as PsychoPaul and my fucking god, he is something different. 

Every bullet fired at him has missed. Whether he's got Lady Fortuna on his side or perhaps some sort of deity in Norse mythology, PsychoPaul has something of a hot streak going on. 

People have made and lost money all in his name. Some people have lost their fucking homes and others have fallen out with their wives but that might be because PsychoPaul was found giving them the psycho strudel but we digress. 

PsychoPaul has built up a following of fans who chant him a rather fitting song and it goes something like, "Psycho's Gonna Kill You! Psycho's Gonna Kill You!" It's safe to say that Paul has earned his colours, stripes, and the stained uniform he's got from the blood of his enemies. 

His first match had a whopping nine rounds and my fucking god, I could have wept at how glorious of a match it was. Whether they were a bit nauseous from the paces or maybe it was watching the coin flip in the air over and over again, there were more misses than organised charity runs. 

However, I digress; it was in the ninth that PsychoPaul's snub nose had cracked in the air like thunder and hit DairyLea square between the eyes without another peep in the air.

Paul had been cheered and people had raked in the dollars like it was a game of poker; unlike me, I hadn't believed in him yet. I hadn't known what he was capable of but goddamn it, I was about to be shown it, wasn't I?

His next match was against an unlucky foe. Why? Because, like before, it seemed like PsychoPaul was blessed to be the Number 9. 

In a defining moment against DineroBot, apparently some sort of nickname from his sponsor, how? I don't really know and I don't need to; the guy got gone and that's all that matters because PsychoPaul is still Las Vegas' shining dynasty. 

In the ninth round, PsychoPaul silenced his doubters once again. PsychoPaul had ended the undefeated Dinero and went on to Round 4, where he faces a similar dynasty. 

A similar rival, actually. 

Unlike his sponsor, PsychoPaul wasn't the only star or dynasty in Las Vegas, far fucking from it. 

In Paradise, there was Mr Cat, who sponsored one rising, firing, undeniable badass! Her name is Mrs Cat. 

Now, we tried to pull Mr Cat in for some questioning but all we got was some meows and some aggressive purring for milk. We assume that his sponsored shooter was now truthfully in training camp for she had as much power and fight in her bones that her fellow Las Vegas powerhouse, PsychoPaul, did.

However, unlike PsychoPaul, Mrs Cat was shrouded in shadows and wasn't given the same airtime that her fellow Vegas native was. It gave her a chip on her shoulder; people denied that she could be as great as PsychoPaul. 

Hell, even I did. Maybe it was bias, or maybe I needed to see her first outing, or maybe she needed to prove something to everyone first. 

She...lacked the decisive skill that PsychoPaul had in his debut. Hell, how could someone keep missing for a whopping 29 rounds? It was like watching one of those kids shoot a water gun and miss at point-blank range. Completely...uninteresting.

Mrs_Cat declined to comment after her less than stellar outing against FartBarf but heck, Mrs_Cat wanted to prove she belonged where the big boys play. Where the money, glitz, glamour, and all that you desired in the world of duelling were. 

Maybe that first debut wasn't much to be interesting, but heck, it shocked endurance. 

If PsychoPaul was undeniable, then by the magazines, newspapers, and even radio talk shows, Mrs_Cat was undesirable. 

One person had been shrouded in cheers and adored by the fandom; people bet after bet after bet! They thought PsychoPaul had already won but for Mrs_Cat, well, they denied her.

Interviews, even merchandise sales – no one had believed that Mrs_Cat had what it took to be like Paul. No one thought that she'd ever be able to end it in 9 rounds like Paul. So what did she do? What did Mrs_Cat do!? Well, that takes me to the duel against NormalGeorge. 

Mrs_Cat had shown out and she had proven that she was every bit as deadly as PsychoPaul.

In the ninth round, Mrs_Cat had struck and the arena was quiet. Nothing had been as deadly or as perfect as she had been just then, as everyone realised that she was not undesirable, she was not lucky, she was simply that damn good.

Mrs_Cat was not some fool who could easily be struck down; she survived a hail of bullets. Unlike PsychoPaul, she was tested by others more so than he was. 

So, to ask my question again in another way. 

What do you get when you put a pure marksman against a cat who was every bit as deadly as he was? 

Eventually, the bell's going to ring; eventually, the marksman will miss and he will be struck clean or will the cat's lives finally run out? Las Vegas has a dynasty in the making here and it will end with one of their hopefuls. 

Will PsychoPaul prove he is undeniable and that Mrs_Cat is as undesirable and lucky as all his other foes or will Mrs_Cat do the impossible? Will she prove that she is as deadly as the Psycho? You'll have to find out soon, because one way or another...

A dynasty will break in Las Vegas.