He was not broad-shouldered, as Marshal Dillon had been, nor anywhere near as tall, and his face seemed to her more that of a tired poet than a wild-west lawman, but she had still seen him as an existential version of that make-believe Kansas peace officer, whose only mission in life (other than an occasional drink in The Longbranch with his friends Doc and Kitty) had been to Clean Up Dodge.
Stephen King
The Waste Lands (The Dark Tower, Book 3)
She had a can of Raid in each hand like some crazy gunslinger in an existential comedy.
King, Stephen
The Mist