DIDDY THE KID GIVES RED-EYED JOE SOME ADVICE ABOUT KLONDIKE PHIL, DOC MCILHOLIDAY AND UNDERTAKER STILTON

(In a departure from my usual whimsy and tattyfilariousness, due to recent events, we appear to have reached a critical point following the inevitable national humiliation brought upon us by the assembled collective of the silly consul, whereby total national discomknockeration has now undone all of my previous hard work in rebuilding the reputation of this great cashcow.....er city! As a result, I fear no jocular comment from me, in addition to those surrounding the plight of “Sheriff” Wally Bradlow and Muck Storey OBE (Oh Bollocks, End-game) could stretch the chuckle muscle any further without serious risk of clack injury. I therefore offer some sober analysis and advice in the popular and current idiom)

By Jehosophat Ma’am, it’s me, Diddy The Kid!

I been readin’ the Dirty Washingtown Post, and that there Stinky Ink Bartlett, says there’s over 60 million dollars a missin’ from the community chest, and by all accounts (or those they’ll let anyone see) the Sheriff was last seen a headin’ for the Mexican border.

Looks like Doc McIllholiday needs to git some law ‘n order back into Grotty Cash Gulch.

Seems things was goin’ just fine ‘n dandy till them critters from the Audy Murphy Commission came in, and like the critters they are, they started a crittercisin’.

Says you aint nothing but a one horse town! That’s what I call fightin’ talk! Who cares about havin’ only one horse, when you got a Cabinet full a mules!

Now I know that the town Undertaker, the richest stiff fixer in the West, Hilton J Stilton, says “Hows a come if we got three horses for shootin’ and three horses for all the new saloons, we end up with just one fer the town? Huh, huh, huh? It jus’ don’t seem fair!” Well listen up and I’ll tell ya boy! Cos Bowleg Bradley and that crazy School Teacher aint even got the guts to ask a jackrabbit where it hid all the carrots.

Your Bank Manager, Klondike Phil, thinks you gotta keep the bank empty so it don’t get robbed and then when the Sheriff tries to look in the vault, Klondike jus’ kicks dirt in his face an says “There, ya see what ya done we aint got nothing cos a you!!”

Then the Sheriff runs over to the school house a blubberin’ and a wimperin’, and the best he and the School Teacher can do is start a scheming and conniving like two old spinsters hankerin’ for attention. Yep, spinsters aint got no balls either!

And now you all got yerselves into a whole heap a shinola for actin’ like a riverboat load of Merseysippi gamblers. Just fillin’ your saddlebags fast and as often as you can!

Now, Mr Undertaker, you listenin’, Stilton? If you aint one of the Jackrabbits, you sure been sittin with ‘em long enough to know huntin’ season shoulda started a long time ago!

So let me warn ya pardner, you better trim any sign of a fluffy tale an pull your hat down over those ears, cos right now you’re looking like Rabbit Stew from where I’m sittin’ (In a lovely penthouse apartment in Manchester actually missus, you bought it for me too! Ha ha, By Jove! Right, back into character….)

You boys been on a big fat winnin’ streak so long you got gold fever!! Didn’t you learn anything from me? You gotta know when it’s time to fill your boots and move on! You got your stash safe, you don’t milk a cow til it’s dry or it gits sore. And when that happens, you need an udder plan (Boom boom! By Jove!)

You boys jus didn’t know when t’ quit did ya? You been spending money like there’s no tomorrow, mainly on yourselves, gamblin' on not getting found out!

One more spin of the wheel, one more spin, hit me, hit me!

Yup! well it looks like this could be high noon.

So this is my advice and it's hard fer me to give it cos this is some of my old posse I’m talkin’ about!

First you got a get rid of the Twelve Fingered Bank Manager, Klondike Phil. Why that varmint can’t even count!

His idea of looking after your money is to hand it all out to any old Pink medicine man that asks for it and pay off all the no good the hustlers who ride into town, (like…....me, Yeeeeeehaaaaaaaaa! By Jove yes!)

He allowed a private railroad to be built runnin’ from the Town Hall to Vulture Place carrying all your money to Doc McIllholiday and his gang, even though everybody knows that the Doc’s gang are a bunch of graspin shower singin’ tricksters hoodwinkin’ every nickel outa ya!

And then when you ask Klondike where it’s all gone, he starts a preachin’ and actin like he aint never seen a dime of it, and has the gall to remind you that he can step in and take over the town to put it right! (That’s my boy!)

Well, let me tell you straight, there’s a mighty high chance that the Sheriff is gonna get ambushed by his own deputies. And if I were you Sheriff, I would stay away from the Saloon Bar run by that flirty dancin’ girl Chin-chiller Flo, cos believe me the Klu Cas Klan aint to be messed with.

And if we’re talkin’ about bein’ hungry for power, then Fat Belly Dick, the Marbrow Man has got one mighty appetite. You heard the sayin’ "so hungry I could eat a horse?" Well if Fat Belly Dick rides in you’ll be a no horse town!

And don’t forget Calamity Kemp, the man who put the Cowboy into Boote! He’s the guy that let the Boote Ranch Estate turn into a Ghost Town, you gotta make sure that the hauntin’ don’t never stop! Pretty sure the folks he left behind have reserved a special plot for him, if he ever gets the brass neck to show up again.

Now what about the guy who already has the Stetson and ranch coat, Clein? Hmmm I kinda like the name, German for Diddy, ya know? But the guy is another maverick like Calamity Kemp, liable to shoot before he knows what he’s aimin’ at.

An you can forget Tumbleweed or Antrobush whatever his name is, I never liked him, why that no good rattlesnake once said that I tried to blackmail and threaten the school teacher! Me? As gentle a heart and a soul as you could hope ta meet. No….. “A SOUL” I said!

Well, whatever those losers do to try and avoid a lynching, come springtime for Stilton, there may be, just maybe, another gang ready to ride in and take over.

Red Eye Joe and his gang are on the outskirts of town.

Now if Red Eye aint gonna be turned into Cotton Eye, by the Evil Corral, then he is gonna need to come in shootin from the hip and run the crooks and deadwood outa town. Cos if he don’t, he is gonna be another patsy like the sheriff.

If you wanna take this town and keep it, you gotta see off my old boys once and for all and that aint gonna be easy! Cos remember, I trained them and they still come to daddy diddy for advice!

Are you a match for Doc? Cos if you aint and you don’t sort out his gang, you may as well get measured for your casket right now. (See if the Undertaker has his tape out behind your back)

First they is gonna wine and dine ya, offer to polish your shoes, tell ya how pleased they are to have a new sheriff, let you into a few little secrets til you is hooked and so reliant on them you’ll need them to tell ya what day it is and which end to wipe! Yup! That’s my boys!

So Joe, we’ll know soon I guess, if you are up to a showdown or if we will be able to make you lie down and just tickle your belly like an old hound dog.

It’ll be up to you and your gang, you probably won’t be able to do it alone, and may need to call in the federal marshals and the Pinkerton Agency to open up everything, and I mean everything if you want to win back the trust of the towns folk.

For a while, that’s gonna hurt, real bad and there may be a lotta shootin and blood runnin’ down the steps of city hall. But as a great man said recently, (Mr George W. Thrush): “ Fool me once shame on you, fool me ya fool, ya fooled me again and then…...don’t laugh at me cos I’m a....….Mr Grimsdale!!!!)

In other words if you leave a mongoose to look after the hen house, don’t be surprised if you find no eggs for breakfast, your ass gets plucked and you end up covered in chicken shit!

Tatty Bye Pardners, tatty bye!

By Jove, I must remember to take me spurs off in the bath!