The Legend of Latigo Flint and a Mongoose Named Corduroy Junction
There are those who will say, with much smug assurance, that it is physically impossible to draw, aim and fire a six-gun quicker than a mongoose winks.
They smile condescendingly at any who profess it feasible and none-too-subtly imply him or her an ignorant fool, thoroughly uneducated in not only basic physics but wildlife biology as well. And these smuglings get away with their pseudo-intellectual bullying because they travel in packs and are cruel, derisive debaters.
Many a frontier enthusiast, whose only crime was gentle admiration for the quickdraw skills of some bygone cowboy hero, has stumbled sobbing from a cocktail lounge, the laugher and taunts ringing in her ears, eroding her passion and the charm of belief.
Now, there is no doubt a mongoose winks very, very quickly. Mongooses routinely kill and eat cobra snakes, a mighty speedy critter in its own right, and have evolved a blazingly fast wink for deflection of spat venom.
But Latigo Flint, the quickest quickdraw the world has ever known, is faster by at least a third, probably half, and plans to someday make friends with a mongoose who'll travel around with Latigo Flint and help him prove it to those who'd otherwise sneer.
I think I'll name my mongoose Corduroy Junction, for no other reason than Corduroy Junction would be a great name for a mongoose. Of course I'll check with him first 'cause it's mean to give a friend a name he hates. But I'm quite certain he'll agree.
Oh, my heart leaps even now just thinking of it: Corduroy Junction and I will happen upon a beautiful young woman crying her eyes out in the moonlit parking lot of some swank, hipster eatery.
"What seems to be the trouble Ma'am?" I'll ask in my smooth, low drawl as Corduroy Junction nuzzles her hand with his soft, velvety nose.
"You'll think it's strange," she'll reply, her voice hitching. "But I've adored the gentleman gunslinger, Doc Holliday, for as long as I can remember."
"I don't reckon that's strange at all Ma'am. Doc was a prince among men."
She'll stare at me though wide, beautiful eyes, searching my rugged face for a hint of sarcasm. Finding none, she'll continue.
"Well, I was dining in there with some smug hipsters and happened to mention that Doc Holliday could probably draw his pistols faster than a mongoose winks."
She'll drop her face in her hands and sob the rest through glistening fingers.
"They laughed and called me a fool... a stupid fool... said it was impossible... all of them laughing and laughing and facts and figures... and... said I was..."
I'll stop her then by kneeling down and taking her hands in mine.
"Ma'am, do you know who I am?"
"N-no."
"I'm Latigo Flint, quickest quickdraw ever, and this is my mongoose, Corduroy Junction."
She'll look up and truly see us for the first time. Corduroy Junction will make that adorable little burbling/purr sound he makes for people he likes. The girl will let out a little laugh of delight and scratch him behind his ears.
"Now follow us Ma'am if you want to see the arrogant cry."
Then Corduroy Junction and I will stride inside and split with our savage axe of proof, every last smug closed-mind.
posted by Latigo Flint @ 9:48 PM
7 comments
7 Comments:
Beautfiul. A mongoose winks only a little faster than the ball Mister Ward caught in the end zone today, so I'd believe faster by half.
And this is why you're the stuff of legend, while I'm just a normal Danish guy.
I would've just dressed Kid Relish up as a mongoose and dragged him around.
(There is of course one major problem with that solution, but I shan't mention it)
See I think that you have finally found the solution to your problem LF. take that little mongoose into Starbucks and get that Barista that has been denying you for so long. And when I say mongoose I mean Corduroy Junction, not YOUR "little mongoose" if you know what I mean.
That's... surprisingly well thought out. Exactly what does the quickest quickdraw in the world do that leaves him with so much time to wax poetic on the subject of blinking mongooses (mongeese?).
Well, far be it for me to question your ways, but still, maybe you should check to see if you're still reeling from previous injuries.
Indeed Ghost Dog, and I'll raise a glass to J.Bus for a solid, magnificent career no matter where it ends now.
You are Rasmus, Rasmus... how can you be just a normal Danish guy?! You are Rasmus! (I'd venture there's more than just one major problem with that plan.)
I reckon it makes me feel mighty warm and fuzzy inside to hear such Anonymous Shannon--but only inside, the grim, squinty-eyed exterior never ever waivers.
I have not yet found my mongoose friend TSP. The adventures of Latigo Flint and Corduroy Junction are just speculation at this point.
Thank you Civilbloodshed, mighty kind of you to say. I am, as it were, surprisingly well-thought. (And also dead sexy, but I try not to brag.) Occupationally: I drink, I pine for a lost way of life, I drink some more, I curl up in my closet and reenact famous gunfights with coat hangers, and also drink.
Did you see that movie Any Which Way you Can?
It featured a mongoose getting killed by a snake.
You could probably draw faster than THAT mongoose.
Does one more than one mongoose make mongeese or am I just making trouble for myself here? And do you actually know the way to Santa Fe? For some reason when I read your blog, in the background I hear the ever silky voice of Dionne Warwick ...
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