The air was sticky and the sun did not dare break through the heavy clouds as a group of determined looking, dark-suited men gathered at the entrance of Crumlin village, Co Antrim, on Saturday morning.
One could have been forgiven for hearing a faint echo of the High Noon theme tune in the distance as they strode down the main street, one hand always ready to whip out a campaign leaflet and foist it on those not quick enough to scatter in the face of the Ulster Unionist sharpshooters.
A young couple are cornered before they manage to start their car. "I am David Burnside, your Ulster Unionist candidate. I hope you will give us your support on Thursday," says Mr Burnside with a robust smile.
"Why, what's happening on Thursday?" asks the young man, possibly stalling for time. "It's the Westminster by-election, made necessary by the death of our MP, Mr Clifford Forsythe."
"I'll think about it anyway," says the man, now heartened by the sound of the engine roaring. "That'll do. That's all we need," says Mr Burnside and waves as the car disappears in a cloud of dust.
The candidate says he is encouraged by the "friendly and courteous" response he has received in the town, which has seen a large influx of nationalists over recent years. "Unionist voters come up to me and say `Thank you so much for coming here'.
"There has been an alarming increase in vandalism in Crumlin lately. I believe the unionist population and the majority of the Catholic, law-abiding community are very worried and I intend to do something about this."
While Mr Burnside presses the flesh in Costcutters' supermarket, a man waiting outside says the UUP man's conflicting messages on where he stands on the Belfast Agreement are a "turn-off" for pro-agreement voters. "You get the impression he wants to have his cake and eat it."
Meanwhile, expensive net curtains are twitching in nearby leafy Templepatrick, whose main street is locally known as "millionaires' row", as the DUP rides into town. The campaign truck is parked outside the local takeaway, sophisticatedly named Serendipity, from where the party's candidate, the Rev William McCrea, begins to tour the town's shopping precinct.
Mr McCrea is dwarfed in every sense by his party leader, the Rev Ian Paisley, who ploughs his way through stunned shoppers, achieving within seconds every busy housewife's dream on a hectic Saturday lunchtime - a clear path right up to the supermarket meat counter. "I have no time for that man," mumbles a well-dressed, middle-aged woman and walks off to a nearby delicatessen.
While handing out leaflets and exchanging banter with some shoppers, Mr McCrea insists he will not just represent anti-agreement unionists. "With me, you get Willie McCrea, warts and all, a man of consistency and principle and a truly hard worker. If you want something done, always go to a busy person."
"I wouldn't vote for you if you were the only person on the sheet," says a little old man, combatively eyeing the DUP candidate. "My friend, isn't it lovely we live in a democracy where we don't have to fall out over that?" replies Mr McCrea with a disarming smile.