Wild Bill Hickock was minding his own business bellied up to the bar in the Long Branch Saloon when a young gunslinger came through the door and sidled up next to him. Wild Bill ordered up another shot of red-eye and nodded politely at the young man dressed all in black.
“I’m the fastest draw this side of the Rockies” announced the cocky youngster. “Is that a fact?” said Bill. “Even so,” continued the gunslinger “I’ll bet I could still learn a thing or two from a crusty old geezer like your self.”
“I believe I might be able to teach you a thing or two at that, young fella.” said Wild Bill. “It seems to me that you’re wearin’ your pistol belt synched up way to high. Try slacking off on it to where your pistol’s hammer is even with your knuckles.” The young man did as Wild Bill instructed and quick as a flash drew his chrome pistol and shot the derby right off the piano player’s head. The piano player played on as if nothing happened.
“That worked great, old timer. I’ll bet that cut my draw time in half!” said the gunslinger. “What else can you show me?”
“Well,” reflected Bill “I seems to me like it would improve your draw if’n you was to cut a notch in the front of your holster so the gun’s barrel will clear it more quickly.”
Without hesitating the young man whipped out a knife and notched his holster as instructed. Again, no sooner had he finished when he drew with lightening speed, fired and neatly clipped the left side of the piano player’s handle-bar mustache. Again the piano player played on.
“What else have you got old man?” asked the beaming gunslinger. “Go down the street to the wagon maker’s shop and fetch a small keg of grease” instructed Bill. The young man was confused but hadn’t been steered wrong yet, so he complied. When he returned with the grease Bill said “Now get a big hand full of that grease and smear it all over your pistol.” The gunslinger complied reluctantly and re-holstered his greasy weapon.
“How is this going to improve my quick-draw? The dang thing’s so slippery I can barely hang on to it, much less draw it.”
“Well, it won’t” explained Bill “but now when Wyatt Earp over there finishes playing the piano and shoves that Colt up your back side, it won’t hurt so bad.”