Wheelhouse Demos by The Lampliter Boys

They fell off of the train somewhere between Cheyenne and Chiapas. That's what they told folks, at least. Five vagabond ruffians trying to high-tail out of the Natural State after the Rapert Election. Afraid, as they put it, "that two-faced maggot-eater of a Senator was gunnin' for their goozles and fit to be tied." 'Course, nobody quite knew what that meant.

After falling off the train they found a few burros. The Reverend of the bunch flung his dog-collar into the dust. They kicked their spurs and after that the banditos never knew what hit them. Some say they found the final home of Ambrose Bierce, while others suggest they drank all the whiskey in Guadalajara. Few things are certain. We know they fought federales in El Paso, pow-wowed in the Canyon De Chelly, hogtied every rhinestone cowboy in Galveston, found the treasures of El Dorado, worked as linemen for the county, hunted deathclaws in the Mojave Wastes, saved damsels from oncoming railway trains, burned down the Zane Grey Ballroom in Flagstaff, and wiled nights away with women and song from Dodge City to Deadwood to Catalina, all the way back to their beloved Arkansas. We know by that time they found a name: The Lampliter Boys.

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