Butch is actually pretty relaxed, all things considered. I mean, it's not his world, and he doesn't have his gang with him, not even Sundance; and he's never seen these folks in action, but a bullet here could get him just as dead as one back home. But he's not thinking about any of that right now, and not because of the whiskey either.

This is what he does, this is his element. It may not be the one he would've chosen, but here he is, and that's that. He attempts to radiate a harmless small-town-Mormon-boy aura, though whether that works or not...

He grins and offers a hand when appropriate. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Lehane."