Part 2 The Beatin’ at the Town Meetin’

Cissie was perched in one of the tall trees, Her green poncho camouflaging her perfectly in the branches. Traya was nestled in the tree with her. “I should have my head examined for letting you talk me into this. Red would kill me if he knew you were scouting in a tree with me, rather then safe in a bunker somewhere.”

“And miss this you gotta be kidding,”

Cissie saw a group of men approaching on horseback. “I see them.”

Cissie looked in the distance to Robin, she signaled to him with her hands. Traya gazed in awe at the scene below her.

“Ok there they are, get ready.” Robin motioned to Sub, who whispered the translation.

“Hey that’s strange, one of the outlaws is trailing way behind.”

“Traya, he’s not lagging behind he’s catching up, it looks like he’s chasing them.“ She signaled again to Robin.

“Ok there’re at the bottle neck. Time for you to do your thing Bart.“

Bart had changed in his poncho for the black suit that most of the Chinese wore.

Impulse strained his body and started releasing scouts. One by one, replicas of him wearing the black uniform appeared. They rushed toward the bottleneck where the gunmen were riding.

“Talk about a Chinese population explosion.” Anita smiled at Robin.

“Look there he goes,” said Traya watching the array of Impulses.

“Look they’ve spotted him.” Cissie saw the horsebacked riders take off after him. They lobbed a hail of inaccurate gunfire from the backs of their horses at him. The riders reached the bottleneck. The riders bunched up upon one another not able to pass.

A very, very, short man, obviously the leader of the group, jumped off his horse. “We’ll leave the horses here, they’re trapped in there anyway.” The walls of the bottleneck were steep, offering no means of escape, save the way they came in.

The gang dismounted, and headed into the bottleneck. They could see their quarry pressed into the back of the canyon.

The short man with long mustached cocked his gun as he began to walk over to the area where he could see the chinamen huddled. “This is going to be easy pickins.”

Then he saw a figure approach from where the Chinese were gathered. His green poncho flowed in the wind.

The short man stepped in front of him, his revolver pointed strait at the boy in the green poncho.

Kon squinted, “You’re thinking about pulling that trigger. But before you do, there’s a question you ought to ask yourself. And that question is… Do I feel lucky? Well do ya punk.”

The short man blazed away with his pistol. “Don’t mention that word to me I am sick and tired of the word lucky.”

Soon the whole contingent of outlaws was firing on the boy in the green poncho, surprisingly to little of any effect.

The short man was so enraged he lit a stick of dynamite and threw it at the boy.

To his and all the bandits surprise the boy threw himself upon the stick of dynamite. Instants later there ways a loud bang as the dynamite exploded under the boy.

The short outlaw grinned, “We got him now for sure.”

The boy got up prying off of himself a scorched and bent piece of metal that he had placed under his poncho, a poncho that had been blown half away during the blast.

Robin stood amazed from his hidden position. “I can’t believe he did that. He was just supposed to create a distraction. They’re never going to believe that mangled piece of metal saved him.”

One of the tallest outlaws yelled, “Look he’s ok, that piece of metal he had under his poncho must have saved him.”

“That’s the signal guys, time to make our move.”

Given all the distraction they needed the fighters launched into the mob with their boomerangs. Quickly most of the gunmen had the guns flung from their hands. They lit into them, subjecting the gunmen to a litany of blows. Some of the outlaws and bounty hunters began to run.

“You bastards come back,” shouted the short leader. “Damn you,” he said enraged, “This is all your fault boy.” He drew a hidden revolver and pressed it to Robin’s kneecap. Robin looked down and noticed him at the last second. “Your luck’s run out kid.” He prepared to pull the trigger. Suddenly a bullet whizzed by knocking the gun from the short mans hands.

“Actually, his Lucky just arrived Joe.”

Steam poured from Joe’s ears “Lucky, I hate that word Lucky,” he turned and stared into the face of Luke. He drew back in fear, and then instants later began to run, sending clouds of dust into the air behind him. “Retreat, retreat!” he called out. The men began to retreat.


Two men ran and jumped on their horses, a young man by them asked, “What’s happening back there? Why’s everybody running?”

“It was terrible, everybody wuz, ah what they call it, Pat, I ferget?”

The other man chipped in. “Kung Fu fighting, Billy.”

“You gotta be kidding me,” said the young man by the horses.

“They wuz fast as lightning.”

The two men pulled the reins on their horses ands rode off. The young man watched them go.

“I must admit that sounds a little bit frightening. “


The gang watched the outlaws storm off, “Well it looks like we beat em. “

“Hey,” said Bart coming up to Luke. “It’s that lucky guy from the saloon, and he’s with Shane. Hey, we got some sugar in our supplies, don’t we?” Bart in the next second approached the horse pulling some sugar from his pocket. “Which I just happen to have on me and didn’t just go get at superhuman speed so that I would be invisible to the naked eye.” Bart winked at Robin.

Robin buried his face in his hands, and shook his head.

Bart approached the horse and offered it a sugar cube. “Here ya go Shane.” The horse accepted the cube giving Bart a strange look.

“I’m not so sure if we beat ‘em fer good, knowing the Dalton boys, they’re stubborn. They don’t give up real easy.” Luke dismounted.

“The Dalton boys?” Cass asked.

“The Dalton boys, Joe and his brothers, notorious outlaws. No matter how many times I lock them up they always seem to escape. You fellas wouldn’t know anything about that I’m sure. That was some pretty good fighting strangers but knowing the bounty reward offered per head, Joe wouldn’t just give up that easy.”

“If I was Joe Dalton then I wouldn’t bother coming back.”

Luke looked at Anita, his eyes questioning.

“It would make much more sense to just take his band and ransack the town. He’d get all of Biggit’s money, anybody else’s too. They’re wanted outlaws anyway, what have they got to lose?”

Just then Secret floated up behind Robin. Noticing Luke, she kept herself widely dispersed. She whispered in his ear. “Oh my god, it looks like your right Anita, I’ve just got word that the Dalton gang is planning to attack the town, just after sunrise tomorrow.”

“How did you find that out? Do you have a spy in the enemy camp?” Luke asked.

“Actually, more of a Secret Agent.”

“We’ve got to go and protect the town.” Anita announced.

Cassie was angered. ”A town that would’ve willingly exterminated these fine folks. That’s justice for you.”

“No,” said Sub Ti Til, “We must go and protect the town.”

Cassie seemed genuinely touched by the notion. “You do that for them after all that.”

“It is not simply that, something that Traya said seems to echo in my mind. Prejudice at is root is caused when we judge the worth of someone or something without ever really knowing or understanding what we’ve judged. And how can one know and understand one another, when they can’t even communicate. Perhaps its not too late to rectify that misunderstanding.”


The Baron woke up and saw a man in yellow shirt at the edge of his bed. ”Luke, what are you doing here? I never figured you for the outlaw type. Haven’t you taken enough of my money already, without having to steal from me?”

“The only ones who are going to be stealing from you are the no good assassins you hired. A group of armed men led by Joe Dalton are going try and loot the town at sunup.”

“Joe Dalton, isn’t he in jail?”

“Never mind that now, just organize a town meeting. And quick.”


Impulse talked to a group of townsfolk seated at one of the saloon table. People were still arriving sleepy-eyed for the town meeting that was called in the middle of the night.

“Yes sirrie bob,” said one of the older citizens. “I was going to paint my shop, got the paint and all, lots of it. But I’m too old to be getting on a ladder and doing it myself. And nowadays, with the way things been running, I can’t even afford to hire anybody to paint it.”

“Don’t worry Mr. I’ll paint it for ya.” Bart offered.

“Really young man? Go by Diz’s repair shop. I’ll get you the paint and the brushes sometime tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry I can do it now,” The older man waved him off, as most of the people had arrived, and the meeting was beginning.

“Where’s the Doc? How come he ain’t here?” One of the townspeople asked.

“Stop rantin’ Ike, Doc’s gone on holiday, remember?”

The townspeople sat around the saloon. “What the heck is all this about Baron, calling a town meeting at 3 in the morning?”

The Baron grabbed the lapels of his suit. “Luke says the town is about to be burned and looted.”

“Dang it, it’s them no good chinamen,” said one of the men.

“They’ll rape and kill us all.”

“Now, hold on a second ma’am, it ain’t the Chinese who are going to be attacking but the people that Baron Von Prey Geedus hired to kill em.” Luke interrupted.

A man stood incredulous. “What, but that’s plumb loco? Everybody knows that it’s chinamen that’s savages not white men.”

“Yeah chinamen is no better then dogs.” The man beside him added.

As if of cue Robin and the other Kung Fu fighters burst in though the saloon door.

Everyone turned shocked and horrified to see them.

“What the hell them yella bastards doing here?”

Sub went to translate for the group, but was hung up on the word yella. “Excuse me, do you mean to say that we cowardly or are you referring to our skin color?”

The man replied “Um both I guess.” Sub Ti Til translated.

“Hmm… a yellow Sub,” Kon remarked.

One of the men spoke up in the back. Sub translated “Cowards are those who hire others to do their fighting for them.”

“Well Clyde, it done looks like they’s calling us yella.”

“Do they mean yella as in chicken or are they referring to your skin coloring cause you look so pale and sick looking all the time?”

“Now hold it fellas you’re not each others enemies,” Luke looked over to see one of the townspeople get up and smash a chair across the back of one of the Chinese miners. In the next instant the fight raged out of control.

“Great, just great. What did you do that for?” Kon grabbed the man who had thrown the chair.

“Dammit Frank,” he slurred, “you owe me money and I aim to collect.”

“Frank? Oh no, this guys so drunk he started a fight with the wrong guy.”

Impulse ran around trying to dissuade the combatants. “Please, please, can’t we just, can’t we just get along.”

“The only thing that’s going to be getting along is these little doggies,” said one of the white men in struggle with a Chinese.

“Stop this at once.” Anita commanded.

They stopped their barroom brawl immediately, frozen in spot. They all seemed puzzled.

“This situation looks hopeless.” Cass moaned.

“My god,” shouted one of the women, “we’ll have to hide our babies or they’ll eat them.”

“Yeah and Claudia ain’t got no one round to protect her neither since her husband died.”

One of the Chinese cupped his ear, Impulse looked his way. “He must not have heard the translation. Hey I could translate for him.” Impulse went over to where he was and tugged on his shirt. The man turned to him giving him a questioning look. Bart pointed to the woman who had just spoken. “She thinks…” Then he made a mooching puckering motion with his mouth, looking like he was kissing the air. “You’re going to eat…” He cradled his arms together and rocked them back and forth as if he were carrying a small infant. “Her baby.”

The man smiled at this, and looked at the woman seductively.

Sub Ti Til approached them. He had his hands contemplatively behind his back. “There is a story of an old king, who couldn’t get two of his feudal lords to stop fighting with each other; the conflict between them had gone on many years and cost many of the lords warriors to perish. Soon that section of the kingdom would be weak and ripe for invasion from its powerful neighbors. Knowing that his kingdom was lost if he did not do something, the king thought of a daring solution.”

The Baron sneered. “Yeah and what was that.”

“This.” Sub quickly pulled out a pair of handcuffs and handcuffed himself and the Baron together.

“You heathen, you can’t do this. This is a free country. Unbind me this instant.”

“Yes so I’ve heard. Alas there is none as bind, as he who cannot flee.“

“All right everybody, listen up, have I ever steered you wrong.”

“No Luke, you always been strait with us. But that still don’t explain why them chinamen are here.”

“They’re here to help protect the town, from the gang of outlaws you sent to kill them.”

“Protect us! Them’s chinamen, they’s weak and inferior. Right Baron?”

“Absolutely. Why do you think their civilization is so backwards while ours is so advanced? The Chinese are a backwards race, just like the Indians, we have guns, they have bows and arrows.”

“Actually, the Chinese invented gunpowder. They used it for fireworks, instead of firing bullets.” Traya held her finger in the air.

“Now hold on a second here, I thought they wasn’t smart enough to invent stuff.”

“How’s they gonna protect us with no guns anyhow.”

Robin looked toward the sign that hung over the bar. It read, No Dogs or Chinese Allowed. He stepped toward it and launched himself into the air shattering the sign with a forceful kick. Muttered admiring whispers of “Bruce Lee!” came from many Chinese in the background.

“Now that was a deadly feat of Kung Fu.” Kon laughed.

“How, in tarnation, did he do that?” asked one of the townspeople.

“It’s a martial art.” Sub answered.

“Marshall Art? He done got killed two years ago, going after the Garfunkel gang.”

“It is the fighting art that we have honed and refined for thousands of years. We here are all trained in its methods.”

“Thousands of years? I done thought them chinamen was all savages and didn’t have no culture.”

“How come you didn’t use this Kung Fu on us during the bar-room brawl?”

“Because then you would be in no shape to fight your real enemies.” Robin stepped forward.

“The union!” said an old timer from the back, a horn in his ear.

“Wars over old man.” One of the patrons laughed.

“Huh who won?”

“If you really want to know, here’s a penny for your thoughts,” Anita slyly tossed him a small modern penny.

“Oh no,” he said looking through his monocle at the penny. “What’s that writing at the top there say?” He pointed toward the words, In God We Trust.

Superboy smiled and leaned over him. “Death to tyrants.”

“Yahoo!” The man let out a huge rebel yell.

“See old Fester here is up for the fight.”

“Why would they attack the town?”

“Why take some of the Barons gold for the bounty reward, when you could take all of the Barons gold by well, just taking it.” Robin announced.

Sweat poured down the Barons face. “My gold. My money. Oh no. I er have to go to the bathroom.” He struggled to walk out the door. Sub Ti Til tensed his arm bringing the Baron to a halt.

The Baron looked back to him almost pleading. “I really have to go.”

Sub sighed. “Very well, I shall be back shortly.” He nodded to Robin.

“All right we’ve got to prepare for the attack. They’ll be coming in a couple of hours.”

“And what if they don’t come, what if you’re wrong.”

“Do you want to stake the life of the town on me being wrong?” Luke gave the townsperson a sharp look.

“No Luke, since you done saved the town from the villainous Cowboy X, we’d be darn near fools to not take you at your word.”


Sub was standing outside a shack, his arm still handcuffed to the Baron who was inside the shack, the door half closed between the two men.

“Are you finished yet, I must say it’s rather strange to put so many locks on an outhouse. Do you expect theft?”

At that moment the door to the outhouse opened, the Baron stood there with a fancy gold trimmed revolver, he pointed it at Sub. “All right you dirty yellow bastard, now you get yours.”

Sub stepped into the room, the door closing behind him. Sub simply stared at the Baron, a surprisingly calm look on his face.

The Baron looked at Sub and held his finger on the trigger. Sweat poured from his forehead. He tightened his grip on the gun. He looked into Sub’s eyes. His gun hand began to shake uncontrollably, slowly he lower the weapon.

“It is not so easy to kill a man. Is it?” He looked around the room of the outhouse, which was not an outhouse at all, but a storage locker. It was filled with precious goods, works of art, silverware, cash and gold. “Not as easy as buying others to do your killing for you.”

The Baron slumped to his knees. He looked vacantly at the floor.

Sub turned around preparing to open the door to the shack, it however would not open.

The Baron looked up. “Oh no, you let the door close, we’re trapped in here together now. The locks only open from the outside and to top it all off, I really do have to go to the bathroom now.”

End of Part 2
“Kung Fu Cowboys”