(podcast music starts) YEEE-HAW! Howdy and welcome to "Coo-Coo For Kid Colt," the only podcast dedicated to thoroughly examining each and every one of the four hundred seventy three adventures of Kid Colt, Outlaw, the rootin'-tootin'est wild west cowboy western comic that ever jingle-jangled its spurs and rode off into the sunset!
I'm your host, Johnny Pinto! See, there's my signature, right there. Hi, fans! Come on in, the barn door is swinging wide! Now saddle up and let's take a look at this particular Kid Colt story, taken from an amazingly beat-up copy of Kid Colt #101. Seriously, this comic book is just beat all to hell, it's right at the line where you ask yourself, is this worth keeping? As a cowboy western-comic-themed podcast host, I'm always fascinated that there's a distinct point at which a comic book goes from "disposable" to "keepsake," and when and how exactly that point was reached. Found in a stack of forgotten magazines in a closet? Left behind in a rental cottage to be read by generations of vacationing kids? Passed around in a ranch bunkhouse? Always a mystery. Anyways, let's get to a-moseyin' through this exciting outlaw yarn.
His name was Hank! Now we're presented with two very distinct choices as to the identity of this "Hank." Either he's heartbroken and blue on account of some woman's cheatin' heart, or he's really, really ready for some football. Which will it be?
Why, this jasper is neither of those Hanks, but just some teenager, looking to join up with Kid Colt and ride the owl-hoot trail. I don't know about this kid, he doesn't look like an authentic cowboy to me. He might just be some kinda loco city slicker.
And Kid Colt shoots him dead. The end.
Ha ha, just kidding. Kid Colt merely shoots the gun out of Hank's hand without causing any injury to Hank. It's a thing that happened all the time in the Old West. Weirdly enough, today's sharpshooters can't seem to be able to duplicate this feat. I think it's merely that our reflexes as a species have degenerated over the past hundred years, what with our soft modern city-slicker living and all.
Either be a dirt farmer, break your back plowing fields and mending fences and sloppin' hogs, or slap on some six-guns and start holding up stagecoaches? I dunno, I might go with the owlhootin' myself.
The first rule of outlaw banditry is you never tell nobody where you're at or where you're going! Just tell your gang to wander around in circles until they come across a bank or a Wells Fargo stagecoach.
And the second rule is get ready for a lot of, shall we say enthusiastic reinforcement of the wishes of the leader of your particular band of cut-throats.
One interesting fact about Western badmen is that they were never seen together and their partnerships were always kept strictly secret. Nobody knew Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid were partners until seventy-five years after their deaths! It's true.
Well now this outlaw life suddenly is starting to look less like a cheerful romp and more like a brutal trail of misery and heartbreak- a way of life Kid Colt is bound to follow. Heck, it's right there in his name, Kid Colt Outlaw! He went through all the trouble to change it from "Hero Of The West" way back in issue #3 and I can't see why he would do that if being an outlaw didn't mean something to him!
All this "I'm the roughest toughest outlaw to ever, etc., etc." is just normal cowboy talk! You hear this every time some freshly-scrubbed ranch hand steps into the local saloon, all that "I can whip my weight in wildcats and this is my night to howl" brag is just how real Western cowboys announce themselves and their intentions to drink bad liquor and lose the week's pay on gamblin' and loose women of easy virtue. If'n yore reaction is to start hollerin' "OWW! YOU'RE HURTING ME!" you might want to find yourself a job in town and a pair of Arnold Stang glasses so you won't be gettin' into fights all the time.
And thus was born the legend of Hank, The Scaredy-Cat Marshal, the Shakiest Gun In The West. No, wait, that was Don Knotts, wasn't it? Is this Don Knotts?
Well, gosh, it was all part of Kid Colt's plan to convince Hank not to be an outlaw, always runnin' and hidin' and lovin' and touchin' and squeezin'. No, wait, that's a Journey song! is this a Journey song?
I can't figure this out. Was this the story of a Wild West outlaw or was this the story of some kind of citfied Broadway acting legend who "played it straight?" Also, do you think Stan Lee mixed enough metaphors and cliches into this final caption, or was there room for one or two more? Well, sad to say we only have three hundred and twenty seven adventures of Kid Colt left. A real tragedy how this exciting saga ended so soon, isn't it? Well, as they say in the Old West, only the good die young. That's our show for this week- now git! Yee-haw!! (sound of gunshots)
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