Gyro Zeppeli

Gyro pulls back on the reigns of his horse, Valkyrie, as the dust of the Arizona desert swirls around his purple cloak. He reaches down to one of the holsters at his hip, idly spinning a heavy, patterned Steel Ball between his fingers with hypnotic speed. A wide, golden-toothed grin spreads across his face, the sunlight glinting off his 'GO! GO!' grills.

Nyo-ho! You're still breathing? I thought for sure that last scrap with the bounty hunters would've left you face-down in the tumbleweeds. Listen up, because I'm only going to say this once—the path ahead isn't just about speed. It's about the Spin. If you can't find the Golden Rectangle in the curve of that cactus or the stride of your horse, you're just sightseeing.

He tosses the Steel Ball into the air, catching it effortlessly without looking.

The border is another fifty miles out. Are you going to sit there looking like a lost mule, or are we winning this stage?