I’ve always wondered why they call it a spaghetti western. The ever-reliable Wikipedia provides this relevant one liner – “Spaghetti Westerns were originally scorned for their low budgets, fading Hollywood stars, and rougher and harder look at common Western tropes”. [Ed - all true, but that is not why they were called Spaghetti Westerns. That was the name because they were made by an Italian production company. Albeit filmed in Spain, but paid for by Italian money... in other news, it's the South Pub Quiz in a couple of weeks time!] It feels like the M3s are the spiritual successors to this rusty genre. Now, stay with me as I attempt to explain why I think today showed an uncanny resemblance to a spaghetti western.

Take yourself on a journey – after a long day’s ride on horseback through the Mojave desert in 100°F (40°C to the rest of the world), you and your companion find yourself parched. Sporting cowboy hats and red ornate cowboy masks, Fellow travelers feed you rumours that a political battle is brewing in your distant homeland, which has led to a call to arms from your kin. You wonder how your day and theirs will fare. As the sun sets and the temperature starts to plunge, you thank your unlucky spurs that you’ve finally reached your destination: a small college town by the name of El Paradiso. As you approach, the sky finally succumbs to darkness, and the lights in the town start to turn on, one by one. Gradually, you start hearing the hubbub and bustling of what must be a watering hole on the outskirts of town, and you make a beeline for it. You both tie your trusty steeds up to the trough, and you walk in through the saloon doors with grace; afterall, this isn’t your first time entering a bar without queuing. For a moment, everyone quietens down, as they creak their chairs and their necks to see who the pair of you are. But before you know it, talk resumes, as they decide to carry on with their lives. You both pull up to the bar and order alcohol free beverages, as you have decided to give up alcohol for lent. The Bartender shrugs his shoulders and provides you with 2 glasses of spiced tomato juice. You both neck it: it barely tickles your thirst. In tandem, you ask for another, to which the bartender respectfully obliges.

Beverage in hand, you both head over to two empty stools by a large table. As you sit, across from you, you notice a few excited guys recounting their experience earlier that day in the nearby sandy desert.

“It was George “The Mindset” Anderson, he was the guy who shot first!”

“From that distance? Maybe, but there’s no way that he’s that accurate from where he was standing! It must have been Jack “The Joker” Chalk, I tells ya, he was standing right next to the target”

Two of the eyewitnesses tussled over who had shot the target, whilst the other fellows looked on with intense curiosity. The only thing that was clear was that it was very very unclear as to who had shot the target first.

One of the others chimed in – “But do you know who wasn’t the guy hitting the target? Chris “The Pacifist” Walsh – I heard he emptied his revolver and missed the target from up close! He was in the right place at the right time, but boy oh boy, it wasn’t his day today!”

“Oof, that’s... that’s pretty sour, he’s usually pretty accurate... must have felt like a right lemon afterwards”

“yeah, it’s funny you say that...”

A young lad chirped up – “Did you see Jack shoot at the target whilst someone was walking by? He accidentally shot the wandering buffoon in the leg... now Jack is mad, as he swears it would have been a bulls eye if it wasn’t for that. Whilst he was figuring out his next move, the wandering buffoon’s bigger brother came by, and stood in front of the target in protest, to which George didn’t take too kindly. It was a good old fashioned standoff... but there was only gonna be one winner... George didn’t give the brother a chance!”

They all cheered as they clanked their pewter jugs together.

“There was one more guy who hit the target today... do you all remember Seb “The Celeb” Dias? Turns out him, Jack and George were working together all along, and through their distractions, Seb managed to sneak in around the back and they were none the wiser.”

Hushed sounds of disbelief spread across the table. It seems that Seb really had everyone fooled.

Again, one of the lads, who seemed like he had been waiting for the right opportunity to speak finally piped up - “Do you know who doesn’t get enough recognition? Sure, the target was hit 3 times today, but there were a lot of unsung heroes out there today! Did you see Douglas “The Headloch” Gibson? He totally shutdown any attempts of hostility his way, without hesitation. He shut down one of the fastest hands in the land without blinking an eye. James “The Architect” Menzies ensured that everyone was on time and sticking to the plan of action. Tom “The Maginot Line” Anns clubbed anyone who dared raise their heads towards him. Sure, he didn’t get the glory, and he dropped his pistol rounds during the day’s proceedings, but that can happen to anyone, right? Andy “The Camel” Waddell covered more ground today than a condor in heat. Shin ”The Heavy Artillery” was slinging accurate shots over any obstacles – think about that for a while! Meanwhile, Jonny “Cool hands” Camp was twirling his pistols about, very very flashy stuff, and flummoxed those around him. Even Adam “The Mayor” Catley was getting in on the action, calling the shots from the back there. And who could forget Dave “The Colossus” Potter for making sure no one got up to anything sneaky on our end.”

Amused, and somewhat content, you both agree that today has been a good day after all. With your beverages finished, you stand up together, ready to leave. As you turn, one of the raconteurs catches a glimpse of your faces in the dim light.

“H... Hold on!”, he stutters... “You... you were meant to be there today! But you weren’t! Everyone was asking where you’d gone...”

You and your companion slowly take off your hats and your cowboy masks.

“Yes...” The raconteur continues, “Yes, I definitely recognise you both! You are Joe “The Hitman” Whittaker, and David “The Marksman” Aston! Where on God’s green earth were you today?!”

David coolly laid his hand on his pistol holster: “We’ve been demoted, but don’t you worry... we’ll be back”. Joe threw his empty pewter jug on the floor and stood on it, as if trying to stamp out a cigarette: “I’m glad you boys are telling the world, all the things you witnessed today”.

End scene.