Sheriff Bayou Bob Poem by George Hunter

There was a bad guy named Fango
Who hailed from some place like Durango.
He shot holes in the floor
Next to a whore.
Made her dance the effing fandango

She was a real high stepper
As the floor around her he'd pepper.
She said, "Oh my, Oh my,
He's gonna make me die
Or turn me into hasenpfeffer."

Sheriff BoB, he heard the din,
Drew his rusty Colt and rushed in.
Said, "Reach for the sky,
Dude, you're gonna die! "
Then shot him ‘fore he could comply.

You may think that wasn't fair
But Fango had his iron in the air
So it was a fair fight
If I got it right
But I really just don't care.

BoB said, "Never give effers a chance
Or they're liable to shoot off your pants
I do unto them before they can do unto me,
It's the only way, don't you see
To keep Prairieville free?
So come now, let's finish the dance."

So, stepping over the dead guy,
She grabbed old BoB by the fly.
Said, "OK let's dance,
But take off your pants
You don't have to be so shy."

"Though I admire the goodies you proffer,
I must turn down your kind offer.
I'd love to, of course
But then I'd feel remorse.
I must do my very best
To uphold the Code of the West
And save my kisses for my horse."

She said, "What's the matter BoB, are you gay?
Do you swing the other way?
I wasn't gonna make you pay.
But that's OK.
Have it your way.
Just for the heck
Have a rain check.
Good for a sunnier day."

So she said good-bye to the best
As he rode off into the West.
Shed a couple of tears
Into her beers
And began looking for her next guest! .