Go for the arrest!

No! Another shot would be absolute overkill. Possibly literally! Even if Texas thought he was a misogynist monster and an utter bastard, she wasn’t planning on killing someone with **** poisoning. She had him slurring and wobbling, that was more than enough. As Brass mumbled something about another drink (and some chips to go with it), Texas slowly lowered the bottle beneath the counter and slipped her hand under her dress to retrieve her revolver. She snapped back up, aiming down at Brass, and said,

“Black Brass, reach fer the sky! Yer under arrest for drunken disorderly conduct, trafficking dames in yer stinkin rear, and disrespecting a lawlady!”

Brass blinked slowly and slurred, “What in the hell… what are you tryin to pull with THAT thing?”

Texas stopped dead in her tracks and looked at what she was holding. Seemed she’d fished out the wrong prop, and was trying to hold Brass up with a burlesque dancer’s fan. She nervously smiled and said,

“C-can I get a do-over on that one real quick?”

Brass snorted and reached down to his belt. He snagged up his massive hand cannon and aimed it straight at--

“Aw, dammit!”

Brass’s booze-addled senses overshot his intentions, and as he raised the gun up he let it slip straight out of his hand and over his head. It clattered to the floor behind him and he nearly fell over trying to steady himself on the counter. Both Texas and Brass looked to the gun, and Texas quickly reached into her dress to snag her own arm.

“The hell you will, BITCH!” Brass roared, lashing out with the back of his massive fist.

He clipped Texas across the face, slamming her into the back of the bar. Bottles, glasses and her gun clattered to the ground around her. Texas was too dazed to see that her gun had slid under the bar out of her reach and fruitlessly searched for it as Brass stumbled to his feet and lurched towards his cannon.

“Where is it, where is it?” Texas panicked.

She had no idea where it had gone, she needed a plan b. That was when she remembered the OTHER bit of gear she’d snuck into her disguise: her lasso! Texas leaped up onto the counter and yanked the lasso out from her blouse. As Brass stumbled towards his gun, she tossed the rope over his head and yanked one of his massive horns.

“GOTCHA varmit!”

She yanked back on the rope, toppling the already unsteady Brass onto his ass. He was far from done, though, and Brass threw his head forward to toss Texas off the bar and across the floor. She tumbled head over heels, rolling to a stop just an arm’s length beside Brass’s massive armament. She looked to the gun, then to Brass who, for the first time since she’d seen him, looked a hair frightened.

“Don’t you goddamn DARE touch that thing you little bitch!” Brass growled, “I’ll mangle you myself before I let a goddamn woman touch my gun!”

He lurched back, throwing himself forward at her to tackle her under his full weight. As the behemoth of a bull descended on Texas like a freight train, she had to make a choice. The gun could end the fight in a split second, but did she have enough time? She had to reach to grab it, then aim it, and pray she could withstand the recoil. Was it really worth it? She had to decide and FAST.