Friday, February 24, 2006

Share Your Brother's Splatter Guard

Latigo Flint doesn't quite remember--has he mentioned infamous Fresno outlaw and pistoleer, Natches Murphy, before? If not he ought to be strung up, for Natches Murphy was the squinty-eyed gunslinger by which all other squinty-eyed gunslingers were judged. (Until Latigo Flint Himself of course.) On sheer style alone, Natches made Hickok and Earp look like sneezing drunks in a storm.

Handing out leather splatter guards to all the bystanders in the street was just one of the many savagely successful intimidation tactics enjoyed by Natches Murphy prior to facing down a deadly adversary.

It took a much braver man than most, not to come just a tad unglued at the sight of folks donning protective gear to shield themselves from the warm splatter of his blasted brains and bloody stew.

Natches would always make sure to hand the last, the one with a hole in front, to the youngest of two siblings in the crowd.
"Oh." He'd pretend to notice. "This one has a hole."
The father would finish fastening his and then lean over to inspect his child's.
"Have you any more?" He'd ask.
"I'm very sorry señor." Natches would reply. "The rest are at the cleaners."
"Well, it's not a very big hole, is it?" The father would muse, poking his finger through.
"True señor, it is not." Natches would shrug. "But certainly big enough for an eyeball to squish through."
"Ewwww!!!!" The little girl would scream and point at Natches Murphy's opponent. "I don't want his eyeball juice on me."
Natches would glance over at the hapless gunman.
"Sí, sí little girl, I don't blame you. It looks like a particularly smelly eyeball."

And right about then is when the guy would decide he really, really didn't feel like facing Natches Murphy anymore.

"Uh, look, I don't want the kid to be sad." He'd mumble. "And plus, I, er--just remembered I left a branding iron on a cow. I should probably go take it off before my barn burns down."

"AWWWWW!!!" The crowd would cry.

"These are adult-sized splatter guards." Natches would point out. "One would probably cover both."
"Of course." The father would exclaim. "Mary, share your brother's splatter guard."

And how the crowd would cheer when they saw the splatter guard was going to cover them both.

"Nope, nope, nope!!! Not necessary anymore!!!" The trembling gunman would shriek, hands clasped behind his head, as far from his belt as they'd go. "Not even Natches Murphy would shoot an unconscious man." Then he'd slam his head into a hitching post and the disappointed crowd would start to remove their splatter guards.

"Keep 'em amigos." Natches would say with a grin. "He'd planned to shoot me for smiling at his sister today 'till unease got the better of him. But despite his fear he'll be back in two months when the swell in her belly begins."

Bigots in the crowd would put it together and wish they had the nerve to reach. But they knew Natches Murphy was liquid death with a gun, and the function and purpose of splatter guards had seared their cowardly souls.

(Vaya con huevos, beaches.)


At 8:20 AM, Blogger Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...

I went to the mall and couldn't find slatter guars in Banana Republic, Gap, Abercrombie, or even sportmart. What gives?

I had no problem finding a tripod mounted Gatling. I guess I'll have to settle for plastic sheting for the a splatter guard. What a shame.

At 8:45 AM, Blogger Ari said...

Quiero mis huevos trepados, si tu sabes lo que significo, vaquero. ;)

At 1:05 PM, Blogger OldHorsetailSnake said...

I got it.. Vaya con huevos: He impregnated some eggs. Nice code work, Latigo.

At 1:47 PM, Blogger Trevor Record said...

There is a korean online game called "GUNZ" that I was playing for a short period. I named my character "Natches" and gave him a pair of revolvers.

At 8:45 PM, Blogger Lightning Bug's Butt said...

It ain't mine! I never touched her.

At 3:18 PM, Blogger Helga von porno said...

I discovered one of Natches Murphies splatter guards in Islington antiques Market in London. The dealer convinced me it was genuine by getting me to feel my finger around the hole. It had the smooth feel of a filed out drill hole, NOT a regular bullet puncture or bone splinter puncture. Also, there was some dried squished eyeball still clinging to the edges. The lengths Natches Murphy went to in order to intimidate his foes makes one wonder whether he really could draw as fast as he was reputed.

At 8:03 AM, Blogger Rasmus said...

Ah, if only there had been splatter guards the saturday before last...

No..It's still too painful to talk about...

At 8:22 PM, Blogger Amandarama said...

Damn. That Natches. He sounds pretty bad ass. Y'all related?

At 11:59 PM, Blogger Latigo Flint said...

We industrialized Steve--and decided we didn't need splatter guards anymore. Joke's on us though--turns out we need 'em now more than ever before.

mis huevos son salvajes y untamed siempre Ari dulce--si usted sabe lo que significo.

I'm a Windtalker Old Hoss--if the enemy closes in you're going to have to shoot me in the head.

Natches mustn't loose Trevor Record, ever! You know you now hold a great responsibility in your pale Canadian hands, right?

Your splatter guard is at the cleaners then, is it LBB?

You may in fact be too clever for your own good by half Helga Von Porno, and for your effort I curse you from half a world away.

When you're ready Rasmus, when you're ready.

You know we're not Amandarama. (The Kid claims some distant relation--but everyone knows Kid Relish is a filthy liar.)


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