Think Rooster McConaughey can do 50 push-ups? 

Rooster McConaughey is 61-years-old, and he drinks Miller Lite like morning coffee. He wears tight jeans and heavy boots and chews on a cigar all day long, possibly in his sleep. Do you think he can do 50 push-ups? Would you put 5 percent of your company against it?

That was the crux of the first segment on West Texas Investors Club Tuesday night. Entrepreneur Rob Duffy could just as soon be called Rob "Buff-y." That's a bad joke, but the firefighter-turned-businessman looks the part of a tough-as-nails American hero. He's got massive biceps and a gravely voice and absolutely no confidence in Rooster's physical fitness. Fair enough. 

But first, the pitch: Duffy created the Quick Step Anchor when a firefighter buddy fell off a burning roof. The guy was injured, but lucky to be alive. Unable to sleep that night, Duffy got out of bed and began sketching a better alternative for quickly scaling collapsing roofs. He brought it out to West Texas and immediately impressed the investors during a live demonstration, a building set aflame by the local FD.

"Rob is carving that daggum roof up like a turkey on Thanksgiving, and it looks like the West Texas chainsaw massacre up there," Rooster muses. It's a compliment. The Quick Step Anchor is working, and even when Duffy slips and falls, it catches him --  further proof of its worth.

"Hell, a goddang pigeon couldn't roost on that!" Rooster notes. He's all about the poultry metaphors at the moment. 

"Come on, man. This is better than Kurt Russell in Backdraft," he adds.

The investors are impressed, but Duffy's not much of a businessman -- at least not yet -- and he's got some problems getting the good product into the hands of real firefighters. After the demonstration, the local captain said he absolutely saw the product's worth, but he cautioned that city-run departments don't have freedom to adopt new tools without approval.

Retailing at $1,100, the Quick Step Anchor lies outside the range of what many departments can afford without requiring bureaucratic signatures and council approvals. Duffy has them manufactured for $372 each, but the margins are deceiving. He can't lower the retail price due to heavy insurance costs that, in his words, keep him between a rock and a hard place.

When he steps into the Clubhouse, he asks for $250K for 25 percent.

"You're the biggest guy we've ever had [pitch a product]; we're not really gonna tell you what to do," Rooster says.

"Guess negotiations are over then," Duffy says, taking it in stride.

Not quite: At least Butch is keeping a clear head. He questions Duffy's lack of a sales force and suggests having it work fully on commission. Increased sales would offset the insurance costs and help lower the retail price.

"I think ol' Rob might be missing the forest for the trees," Butch says, ever the voice of reason. "He's one hell of a firefighter, but he's gonna have to start thinking like a businessman. Having a great product is the first half, but marketing and selling is the other half."

He believes Duffy can round up the right network of sales people, other firefighters particularly, with a "heartfelt passion for making the job safer."

Rooster sets up the deal: If Duffy can develop a sales staff and lower the retail price, they'll give him $50K for 15 percent.

It's a tough blow. Duffy counters, asking if they'd do it for 10 percent instead. They hold fast and seem to have come to an impasse.

"I think 10 is reasonable, I'm not being disrespectful," he says.

"Well, I need to tell you something about respect," Butch says, gesturing to Rooster. "This man disrespected you today; he said 'by-God I'm in better shape than that sumbitch."

Dang, Butch. Throwing your buddy under the bus. A man-shaped, flesh and blood bus. They ask Duffy if he thinks Rooster could do 50 push-ups. Come on, it's not like throwing this football over them mountains. Duffy says there's no way. He'd put that remaining 5 percent against it. "I'm gonna call the Guinness Book of World Records," he says.

So, they get down to it. Rooster versus the Terminator.

"Your face is getting red!" Duffy taunts, as they round 10 push-ups apiece.

"Yeehaw! Wooo!" Rooster crows, mid- push-up. He's a man aflame. 

Spoiler alert: Do not underestimate the West Texas Investors. Actually, that's not a spoiler. That's what we've been telling you all season. Granted, his form's a bit ... interesting. But, that's to say nothing of his tenacity. 

"That Rooster can do 50 push-ups is unbelievable," Duffy says. "I want him drug tested. I don't think it's natural for a man that age to be able to do that."

Still, Duffy walks away with a little capital and -- more importantly -- mentors who can help navigate the rockier waters of sales. Butch and Rooster get a partner who's not just in it for money, but for making public servants safer. Cheers to that.