Well look what we have here, if it isn't Buck the Gunslinger. You really think you can ride into town like a tumbleweed and blatantly violate the municipal development code in this here town? Ya'll must be nuttier than a squirrel's mouth to think you can set up establishments WITHOUT proper certification and licenses. If you're fixin' to think you can push me out of Bull Hollow Dusty Ridge Valley, you've got a mountain of Conditional Use Permits to complete, partner.

I know this is the wild west, but we still gotta run things through the Bull Hollow Dusty Ridge Valley Planning and Development Committee to begin any kind of construction, I reckon. The committee meets at high noon every second Tuesday, rain or shine. If a majority of the committee agrees to grant a preliminary Certificate of Occupancy, which allows you to submit a formal Environmental Impact Assessment within one fortnight, then you can begin rustlin' up some inspectors to audit your Setback Variance Applications.

You think you can waltz in here with your “heritage barn” and your “artisanal whiskey distillery” in a zone clearly designated R-1 Single Family Residential? The only spirits allowed in this district are the ones hauntin' Old Man Henderson's place, and even those filed the proper paperwork with the Supernatural Phenomena Documentation Office.

Don't think you can pull a fast one on me, Buck. I may be a cowboy, but that don't mean I ain't got friends who share my passion for regulation and proper Administrative Review Processes. As a matter of fact, I got me a whole team of bureaucrats ready to pull out their pens quick as a bullet's whisper and write you up halfway to Mexico.

I got myself a Code Enforcement Associate who answers to me, and he don't take kindly to folks who don't have their environmental impact assessments in triplicate. We got Rusty Ol' Jane, the town's #1 land surveyor and purveyor of the #4 brothel west of the Mississippi. You may look down on her for runnin’ a gal palace but at least she's got proper licensing! I even got my trusty steed Maverick trained to spot unpermitted signage violations from a quarter mile away, and he's meaner than a rattlesnake with a headache.

Speaking of equine creatures, that horse hitching post you hammered in front of your so-called “general store”? That's a clear violation of the Americans with Disabilities Act Accessibility Requirements and our Historic District Guidelines. We may be out here in the desert, but we still gotta maintain wheelchair-accessible pathways and period-appropriate materials, you rascal.

So here's how this is gonna play out, Buck. You're gonna crawl on down to my town hall and start beggin' to fill out Form 47-B: Application for New Business License with Potential Public Safety Implications. Bring your hat in your hand, three forms of identification, proof of insurance, and a notarized statement of intent, assuming you can find any business partners fool enough to sign with you.

This is my town, Buck, and I got standards. We may settle our personal differences with a gun, but when it comes to municipal zoning we got to do this thing through the proper bureaucratic channels. You're gonna follow every last one of my dispute resolution protocols as outlined in the Community Mediation Guidelines. And if you think you can shoot your way out of a water usage violation, you're wilder than a drunk prairie dog riding a blind horse.

One of us is leavin' town, and it ain't gonna be me, the fella with properly notarized documents approved by both the Zoning Administrator AND the town drunk. You're just a lawless scoundrel who wouldn't know a Remediation Protocol from a whiskey bottle.

This town ain't big enough for both of us, and I ain't goin' nowhere.