The Shaolin Cowboy Adventure Magazine: The Way of No Way! by Andrew Vachss

Author:Andrew Vachss
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Horse Comics
Published: 2012-11-29T00:00:00+00:00

The Ranger stood on the Great Wall, watching enviously as the Shaolin Cowboy and the white mule slowly disappeared from view. Neither looked back.

The first ten miles were uneventful, unless one counted the endless stream of invective spewing from the mule. However, the Shaolin Cowboy, having mastered the Ultimate Martial Art—imperviousness to complaints—never reacted. Infuriated at this indifference to his endless string of totally legitimate grievances, the mule reverted to the ways of his ancestors and simply stopped, refusing to take another step.

The Shaolin Cowboy walked on.

The mule contemplated his options. He could re-trace his steps, quite confident that the protect compound would accept him. Initially, this prospect appealed to him: there was plenty of food and water and shade there, and he could eventually teach that little girl to stop calling him “horsey,” too.

But that Gemlux broad was a deal-buster. The mule knew her type—she was just the kind of female who’d want to make him work.

And speaking of females, that sweet palomino had been the finest piece of equine he’d had in years.

“Aaargh!” the mule thought to himself, “What other choice do I have? The Shlubby Swordsman may be the dullest human alive, but the fool does go where the action is.”

Breaking into a trot, the mule quickly caught up with the Shaolin Cowboy. Just as he pulled alongside, an enormous canvas tent appeared before them.

The tent’s wide flaps were standing open, revealing row after row of folding chairs, all occupied. The chairs were facing the back of the tent, where a slab-faced man in a white suit and indigo shirt was shouting at the crowd. Despite frenzied gesticulating, his elaborate pompadour remained frozen in place.

The Shaolin Cowboy moved to his left, intending to bypass the spectacle. Barring his way was a long line of picnic tables on which sat several clear pitchers of various-colored iced drinks, and stacks of what looked like campaign literature. Behind the table, four men and three women suddenly snapped out of their collective hypnotic trance. All began to proselytize at once, thrusting paper cups of liquid and various flyers at the Shaolin Cowboy, whose stone-faced countenance had no effect on their manic fervor.

“Drink from the sacred font, brother,” one man beseeched. “Then the truth will be revealed to you.”

The Shaolin Cowboy shook his head and attempted to walk past, but the group re-formed and, once again, blocked the way.

“No wonder nobody ever sneaks up on T.A. Town,” the mule thought. “He’s got it surrounded by robots.”

The Shaolin Cowboy dropped into the lotus position, seeking guidance from the Great Spirit.

However, the Great Spirit was not taking calls.

The Shaolin Cowboy next dialed a skyscraper in Chicago, consisting of several independent towers behind a single entryway, marked “Pick Your Poison.”

The House of Ward Healers directed his psychic call to voicemail. “Buy ’em off,” the tape directed. “For other options, press 1.”

The House of Whores voicemail said: “Trick or Treat? For options, press Star 69.”

The House of Blues voicemail said: “Tell the truth.”

Thus enlightened, the Shaolin Cowboy rose to his feet and approached the table.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.