In the days of the wild west, there was a young cowboy who wanted more than anything to be the fastest gunfighter in the world.
He practiced every minute of his spare time, but he knew that he wasn’t yet first-rate and that there must be something he was doing wrong.
Sitting in a saloon one Saturday night, he recognized an elderly man seated at the bar who had the reputation of being a fast gun in his day.
The young gunslinger took a seat next to the old-timer, bought him a drink, and told him the story of his great ambition. “Do you think you could give me some tips?” he asked.
The old man looked him up and down and said, “Well, how fast are you?”
The young man drew his pistol pretty quick and before anyone knew it, then shoots the hat off of the piano player’s head!”
The old man looks over at the piano player and says to the young man, “Well, that wasn’t bad. But you’re wearing your gun too high. You should have your holster lower on your leg so you can get to your gun quicker when you draw. And son, tie the holster down on your leg.”
The young man did as he was told, stood up, whipped out his Colt Peacemaker and shot the tie off the piano player.
“That’s terrific!” said the young gunslinger. “Got any more tips for me?”
“Yup,” said the old man. “Cut a notch out of your holster where the hammer hits it. That’ll give you a smoother draw.”
“Will that make me faster?” asked the younger man. “You bet it will,” said the old-timer.
The young man took out his knife, cut the notch, stood up, drew his gun in a blur, then shot a cuff link off the piano player.
“Wow!” said the young gunslinger. “I’m learning’ somethin’ here. Got any more tips?”
The old man pointed to a large can in a corner of the saloon. “See that axle grease over there? Coat your gun with it. Just but the gun in it, layer it with grease! ”
The young man went over to the can and smeared some of the grease on the barrel of his gun.
“No,” said the old-time, “I mean smear it all over the gun, handle and all.”
“Will that make me a faster gunfighter?” asked the young man.
“Probably not!” said the old-timer, “But when Doc Holliday gets done playing that song on the piano, that grease will make it hurt less when he shoves that gun up your ass!”
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