I, SIXGUNS

by Johnny Sixguns


Forward by Kurt Vonnegut

Mr. Sixguns is a fascinating character.

Rather than blood, he has ice nine pumping through his veins. Curiously, his bloodline is directly descended from Anti-Pope Sixgunns (1443-1448) who enacted the infamous Edict of Uberschnitzen. This edict banned the practice of target knife hurling during religious services.

Quite ironically, Johnny Sixguns is an adept knife-hurler and is often seen brandishing a variety of cutlery. Sixguns frequents the worst neighborhoods and kudzu infested swamps with equal ease. Snakes sing the praises of kudzu but that doesn’t bother Sixguns. He returns to the swamp; he returns to the dusty street in the dismal western town ready for vengeance, sometimes with the gun and sometimes with knife, sometimes in another superstring universe.

Sixguns favorite food is the bacon-wrapped bacon taco. Sixguns was a member of the elite Black Light Brigade where he teamed with Commodore Thornton-Pickle and the Brigadier during a disastrous eleven-day mission in the Crimea. Sixgun’s sign is Libra and he enjoys warm spring days. Sixgun’s favorite Sunday afternoon is spent hurling knives and drinking Sonoran tequila until he hallucinates that he is a large grizzly bear catching salmon in a pristine Alaskan stream. The cycle repeats.

He sees every moment in his life. He seeks his allies.

His friends are Nemo and Marzipan and the Nanny.

His foes have bushy mustaches - they know who they are.



The Authorized Biography

Sonoran prison stink.

It was all over me after a five year stretch.

Courtesy of that Cambridge blue blood snot, Thornton-Pickle and his pea-brained pal, Woodpecker-Smythe.

Thanks Pickle – I’m out now - I've had plenty time to think.

I traveled across the Mojave last year when I got this message, if you can call it that – it was carved as big as you please across a cliff face outside of some no-name town in Northwestern Arizona – USA.

That message was from someone, code name of “Marzipan.”

"Marzipan" wanted Johnny Sixguns to travel to the Amboy Crater and stand in the crater center at precisely 11:55PM the next day for a meet up – bring the tequila and the lime too.

Like hell I was. Johnny Sixguns momma didn’t raise no fool. Johnny Sixguns doesn’t fall for that sorta shenangin. That’s miles away from any kinda stage line or pony express route.

Then again, I was in a bind. I knew the law dawgs weren’t far behind so I made up my mind. Plus, tequila was thrown into the mix, a big plus in my book. I was going and that’s how I got here.

Marzipan has the key.