The Gunslinger's Education
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From: Peter Langston <psl>
Date: Fri, 9 Oct 98 02:23:22 -0700
Subject: The Gunslinger's Education
Forwarded-by: "Saul Feldman" <email@example.com>
It's 1880, a time of gunslingers and gentlemen. This is a story of a young
man that wanted more than anything to be the fastest and most respected
gunslinger in the west. The place was Dodge City, Kansas in the Sawdust
Saloon. The young man walked into the Sawdust Saloon and, to his surprise,
saw Bat Masterson sitting at a table playing poker.
The young man alked up to Bat and said, "Mr. Masterson, I would like to be
a gunslinger just like you. Could you give me some tips?" Bat Masterson put
his cards down, looked up at the boy and said, "Son, I don't usually give
out tips because it could someday be detrimental to my health, but step back
and let me take a look at you."
The boy stepped back and Mr. Masterson said, "You look good. You're wearing
black, you've got two big ivory handled guns with waxed holsters, and you
look like a gunslinger. But what's more important, son, is: Can you shoot?"
The young man, happy to show how good he was, quickly drew his pistol from
his right holster and without aiming shot the cuff link off of the piano
player's right sleeve.
Bat Masterson said, "That's good shooting son, but can you shoot with your
left hand?" Before Masterson could even finish, the boy had already drawn
the pistol from his left holster, shot the cuff link off of the piano
player's left shirt sleeve, and reholstered the gun. Very proud of himself,
the young man asked "How was that?"
Bat Masterson smiled and looked up and the boy and said, "That was pretty
good shooting son. I couldn't do better than that myself, but I do have one
tip for you."
"What's that?" the boy asked. "I suggest you go to the kitchen and ask the
cook for a large can of lard. Then take both of your guns and stick them
down deep in the lard."
Puzzled, the gunslinger asked why he should do that. Masterson put his
cards down again, leaned back in his chair, and said, "Well son, when Mr.
Wyatt Earp gets done playing the piano over there, he's going to take those
two guns of yours and. . . "
© 1998 Peter Langston