Seeing as they both have excellent eyesight one of’em shoulda seen it. Anywho, they get up and dust themselves off. They get to drankin’ and steely eyed starin’ and the next thing you know;
Roland of Gilead: I heard Quantrill was a Jayhawker and buggered sheep.
Josey Wales: Well I heard Authur Eld was a cuckold and buggered fairies.
Roland: Laura Lee courts Comancheros!
Josey: Susan Delgado kisses hags!
Roland: You have forgotten the face of your father.
Josey: You gonna pull those pistols or whistle Dixie?
hands blur, pistols blaze, the smoke clears revealing the steel-eyed gaze of…?
185 gunslingers walk into a bar. Bartender sez “I’m sorry, we don’t serve gunslingers in this bar.” The 185 gunslingers reply “But we just wanted a shot…”
Roland. He one-hand-reloads one of his six shooters while shooting grapes flung from a slingshot with the other six shooter. It’s even more over the top than Superman.
Roland’s abilities are essentially superhuman. King tries to write him as having gone through the most unbelievable sort of medeival-meets-Old-Weast-meets-Navy SEALS training, but a “gunslinger” in that world has shooting powers beyond those of a human being (and, not incidentally, probably physically impossible given the weapons they use.)
Clint Eastwood, be he Josey Wales, the Man With No Name, The Preacher, or whomever, is a hell of a gunfighter but still human. He wins because of observational bias; he’s the hero and you are watching a story where the hero wins.
Roland would gun him down. But Stephen King would somehow write Eastwood back to life.