Bang Gunley rides again.

Once again the unfortunate inspiration strikes to chronicle the Western adventures of Bang Gunly, Western Hero and saddle-sore specialist, as we have done earlier here and here. 

"BANG GUNLY RIDES AGAIN ONCE MORE"

by Frederick Key

Dedicated to Mike "Flangepart" Weller,

who created Bang and deserves the shame credit

Bang Gunly sat on the old hoss he called Irv, looking around to get a feel for the place. It was hot in Arizona territory, blisteringly hot, and dry as an Oxford don's jokes. But Bang was in Nebraska and he was freezing his behindular area off. 

"Hey, you!" came a voice from Bang's left. 

Bang casually put his right hand on his trusty six-shooter and turned to see who was talking. "What you want, mister?" 

"Get off'n that danged horse right now! It's my turn."

"Oh, yeah," said Bang. "Sorry."

Bang dismounted and let the little kid take a turn on Irv. Too bad Bang had run out of quarters. He'd found the mechanical horse soothing on his saddle sores. 

Bang sauntered away from the five-and dime and across the street to the quarter-and-dollar. He'd come to like this place well enough. Gold City, Nebraska, they called it, after the big silver strike that had been found by Herschel Gold. The silver mine petered out fast, but the name of the town kept bringing in prospectors who left their money behind as they ran out into the prairie with new supplies, looking for gold. 

Bang had a feeling that something wasn't right today, though. He'd always had a feel for trouble. And trouble always had a feel for him. It could be embarrassing if anyone saw them.

A yell from several doors down confirmed his hunch. "Help! Help!"

Bang hustled down the sidewalk, his boots galumphing along the wooden planks. His gun filled his hand by the time he arrived. 

It was the boot and shoe store, and the yeller was Lulu LaLou, the young lady who worked for her father, the owner. She was a nice piece of work, a corseted queen as loaded with buttons and bows as could make Bob Hope happy. Bang had been trying to get to meet her, and probably could have, but he was too cheap to buy new boots. "What's wrong, young lady?" he said.

"Trouble's afoot!"

"Yes, I know." Troubles Afoot was the name of the store.

"No, I mean we've been robbed! It's terrible! Someone has grabbed my pa and demanded the combination for the safe! When Pa wouldn't tell them, they dropped him in the outhouse hole!"

"That's terrible!"

"Please get him out!"

"I'll... go for help!"

As Bang arranged a party from the saloon to help with the disgusting rescue, he realized he'd seen this kind of dirty work before. There was one varmint who loved dumping his victims in the outhouse. And that varmint was the one and only Deuce Baggio.

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Bang Gunly was just outside of Gold City, facing a pair of tents, one of whom held the man he wanted to see. He was tempted to just blast them both with his revolver, but he had to make sure. Not like that time in Minneapolis. That was a sticky situation.

"Deuce!" he yelled. "Come on out and say hello, you miserable skunk!"

The flaps on the two tents flew open. In the cold fading sunlight Bang could make out one face--it was Deuce. 

"Is that Bang Gunly I hear?" growled the miserable skunk. "This here's an honor, boys."

"I reckon we need to have a chat, Baggio."

With the clink and clank of spurs and firearms, Deuce Baggio and seven of his men arose from the tents. Bang tried to keep his eyes from bugging out, but he was thinking, How the hell did them fellers all fit in them tents? Maybe it was better not to know. Anyway, they all had guns and rifles out, pointing at Bang, and that seemed a little more urgent.

"How'd you find me, Bang?" asked Deuce through his mangy black beard.  

"Followed the bread crumbs from the bakery. On your way outta town you pinched a loaf."

"I sure did, and it was a good one," said Deuce. 

"You had a busy day," said Bang. "Went by the restaurant and took a dumpster. Find anything?"

"Just some old silverware."

"I heard you did number two."

"Yeah, the whorehouse at number two on Gold Street."

"Then you guys were heaving Havanas on the sidewalk..."

"We all enjoy a nice cigar."

"...saw a man about a horse..."

"Bill Jones, had a gelding named Oswalt."

"...left a floater in the outhouse..."

"I warned LaLou!"

"...released the Kraken..."

"Heh heh, didn't that bronco run wild!"

"...took the Browns to the Super Bowl..."

"And they said it couldn't be done!"

"Well, you've terrorized Gold City enough. You clear out of the county or else!"

"Or else what, Bang? Maybe you ain't noticed that we got twelve guns on you between us."

"And maybe you ain't noticed the fuse that's been burning this whole time."

Deuce Baggio and his men looked around in panic, but it was too late. The fuse had just run down on the dynamite that Bang had planted. Bang dove for cover behind a hillock as the explosion blew Deuce sky-high. Two other scoundrels were blown up a whole lot, one was blown up just a little, and the rest were dazed and blackened like Yosemite Sam on a bad day. They were easy for Bang to tie up and drag back to town for justice. 

The next morning, Bang and Lulu LaLou enjoyed a latte at the Gold City Trattoria and Bait Shop. The headline in the Gold City American Standard said GUNLY DROPS DEUCE.

"How brave, to face all those rapscallions and ruffians on your own!" said Lulu.

"Nuthin' any man with some guts and some dynamite couldn't do," said Bang. "How's yer old man?"

"He's doing well after his harrowing adventure," she said. "He wants to thank you personally!"

"Well, that's kind of him."

"Let's go," Lulu said, rising from the table. "Oh, you'll want one of these when we get to the house." She handed him a clothespin.

"I s'pose," he said, putting it on his nose. "Id's a berfecd fid."

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Tune in next time for another adventure of Bang Gunly. No, I don't know when. We'll alert the media.