It was story night at the saloon. Any townsperson brave enough to test their mettle could wander up on stage and tell a tale of derring do.

Course, considering that the venue was a grubby platform next to the bar, only a couple of stanzas could be choked out before succumbing to the alcohol's nose-blisterin' fragrance. Either that or be booed off the stage by a grungy audience if you're off-key.

An old man, Clem Kerinson shuffled on stage. Long of beard but short on brains, his wizened hands cradled a ukulele.

Even so, his voice rang out like a gong. One of the barflies even rousted himself from a snooze. The bartender, who frankly didn't care for singing and reminiscing, tolerated this only for the extra customers.

Clem strummed his ukulele. "I hope yer ready for a heckuva tale!" Quickly, he took a long swig from his glass and rubbed his sleeve over his mouth.

"Heh, liquid courage, don't you know.

Ohhhhhhhhhh

I once knew a guy I knew, a guy called Jonah Hex

Rough' n' tuff 'n' surly, he'd send lawless men to Hecks

But he had a soft spot, oh that man called Jonah Hex

All throughout the lonely nights, one thing kept him straight and true

Never succumbing to despondency or the curses of the bottle"

In the background, the bartender gave a warning grunt.

For Hexxy had a companion, one that he held most dear

With him, neither demons nor rustlers nor ruffians could bring out any fear

No vice could control him, not beer, women or death wish

Double grunt from the bartender.

No, not when ol' Hexxy had his wondrous pet fish

Wart's the name, a good old fish, scales and fins a' shinin'

Found him in a stream one day and felt his heart realignin'

Oh, good old Warty, always good and true

Noblest of the sea, just what I'm singing to you

Clem set down his ukelele, soothing his throat's ache with another gulp. "Hits the spot. But back to my tale, any of you want to know how I came to hear this legend?"

A stained, musty boot whizzed past his ear. "GET OFF THE STAGE, OLD MAN!" The bartender grabbed the boot and laced it up, pleased to have a second covering.

Clem smiled, pleased that he had gotten the audience's attention, as unruly as it was. "Don't get mad, I'll tell ya. You see, I'm-"

"FISH MAN, FISH MAN!" jeered a particularly drunk patron. "He's really a fish, I knew it, look at his bulging eyes and gasping mouth."

Another man shoved the heckler, spilling his drink in the process. "Ya idiot, we're all gasping, it's hot as hell in here and the beer stinks like my left-"

BANG. Dust and splintered bits of wood fell from the ceiling. The bartender lowered his shotgun, glowering at the audience.

"Much obliged." Clem nodded.

I knew so because I was travelin' on the summer's hottest peak

Sweating and delusional, I thought I was approaching Satan's leathery beak

Stead I saw Jonah Hex, dancing in a puddle, his fish hopping to and fro

Clutched my heart and let out a rattle, feeling my breathing slow...

But that fish, oh, that fish- Wart, the mighty fish, his valiance I beheld!

Swam down my throat and started splashing till the Reaper quelled

We danced in the moonlight, me 'n' Hex 'n' Wart

Had ourselves a grand old larking cavort

The door burst open, abruptly cutting Clem off. Hex himself strolled in, filled with rage. "I hear some no-good polecat's been spreading rumors about me. I dance with fish and snuggle up with a flounder. Saying I used to cry myself to sleep at night. That my underwater friend uses magic to make my gun extra speedy-like."

Clem gulped, once again feeling the specter of death approaching. He tried to scuttle away, but Jonah saw him, whipped out his pilots, and roared, spittle flying into the bar. "Son, don't you dare leave without finishing that ■■■■■■■ song!"

As Clem sang, Jonah Hex lifted his hat, revealing a shiny bowl full of water. Wart frisked, waving to the crowd. The bartender drooled, imagining a hearty bowl of chowder.

When Clem finished, Jonah broke out into a spontaneous Irish jig, then tipped his hat to the old man.

FIN