The Peacock Kid in: tumbling out of the saloon

This is about the Peacock Kid and tumbling out of the saloon.

It was around here in all the turnings that the Peacock Kid came a tumbling out of the saloon, thrown down by the mighty hands of Jack the bushwhacker, who wanted his money back after being cheated at cards.

As he tumbled out into the dirt, the Peacock Kid was feeling slightly put upon, almost like a déjà vu thread of doom, and so decided to go for his guns, just as soon as he could gain his feet to fire them.

You low down cheating son of a whore, said Jack, as the Kid picked himself up, and brushed his jeans down of all the dust.

“Lot of dust around here this time of year,” said one of the bystanders quietly to himself and hiding under the sidewalk.
Jack’s girlfriend, a real gander-goose, heard what he was up to and gave him a wink to loosen him up like.

So, Jack, shaking his mighty muscles up and down demanded justice to come forward and blow hard to be known.

Nobody stepped up to be known; or to blow hard.

And now you shall have it, shouted the Peacock Kid and began to draw his guns from their holsters.

You stupid fool, groaned his girlfriend.

I am not afraid of you, said Jack and a complete bobbin-air to boot.

Then we must meet after dark to discuss this, said one of the wives.

Someone was wondering which one of the wives it was that said this.

It is around here that it gets complicated, so if you want to go on you must trust me on this, said a hole in the wall and blew his trumpet: toot, toot, until it was all worn out and refused to serve anymore.

Well, that does it then, doesn’t it, said a voice from the top of the stairs.

“We have turnips for Christmas again this year, said another voice from out of a canister of glue.

Well, what can you say, if this is the best of us, said a mouse, running off into the sunset with the glue.

A tomato duck, anyone?

As the Peacock Kid was raising his guns all the way up, something disturbed him so that he looked away. And this is when his death, that shall never be named, came to his rescue to take him down below.

So, down, down he went, all the way down to the depths to almost draw his last breath and drown away forever where no one would ever know what happened to the Peacock Kid; or of course, who he was.

A violin began to play and shed stone tears into the doom that spread about and learned how to drive down the wrong side of the street with no brakes and a map to hell.

Running in the back door through a short-cut, he ordered a whisky before the doom could reach him; he tried to look anonymous in the crowd, but it was no use, he was recognised.

The Peacock Kid slapped himself to the face three times before he gave up and tumbled out of the saloon doors wondering how many times he would have to do this before his karma would be up.

AND SO IT WENT LIKE THIS

So anyway: not being a war lord, and after picking himself up from out of the dust, the Peacock Kid, pulled his guns out again, but coming to his senses, he put his guns back in their holsters, and then took a deep breath and stepped backwards.

Jake, who was mighty drunk, fell over backwards too, into the dust, and waved his arms around.

Well now, I am mighty relieved this little ruckus between us is over, said the peacock Kid.

So am I; said one of the wives over in the crowd.

When the Peacock Kid went back in the saloon to see which wife it was who had said this, his girlfriend, ever so loving, picked him up, and threw him out of the saloon so that he groaned all the way to the ground, whereupon he decided not to renew his subscription to anything that could ever throw him anywhere ever again like that to land on the ground so hard.

Life of course, had other plans that would leave him breathless and encased in marble or broken into a thousand pieces; but hey, what the hell, he said as he danced off into the future leaving all the wives and girlfriends behind.

They caught up with him around the third day of running and brought him to those saloon doors he was always crashing through.

Damn, he said, as he crashed through them again.

After hitting the dust hard he came up running for the east this time.

CLOSING TIME

Over on the other side, where they were building the railroad, a sign went up that said: come and die here for peanuts.
A sigh rose up then: Ah, peanuts.

Across the border, where there was no reprieve, even beggars had more than this and said so at every closing time.

A cry arose then to be heard: We want more peanuts.

A hastily erected sign went up that said: We are no longer open for business.

INTO THE SUNDOWN

And now look at the time, where nothing is done, and yet, everything happens; but don’t panic, take another breath; and then let it out very slowly.

The Peacock Kid was feeling he was not brand new anymore, and so he came up with a plan to sit it out, or die trying.

One of his friends came along then with a new-fangled machine that was blowing steam but was waved off by the Kid who then looked to heaven for instructions.

Maths not being his strong point he pointed north and rode away into the horizon where the sun was going down and the daisies were all yellow.

Part 2 tomorrow or the next day

Image from Pixabay

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