Krorn out of the mysterious East (Poland, methinksi comes this game of the less-t ha n-mysterious Wild West. But "Get the Gold! Shoot the Banker!" seems a curious mix of Keynsian monetarism and practical Marxist-Leninist theories of proletarian power acquisition. Or perhaps Cockney rhyming slang is more prevalent in Eastern Europe than our media would have us believe. Still, on with the show. Since Grasshopper first blew flute in the sandy deserts of the rough and tumble western United States, we've been aware of the prevalence of the martial arts in the land of the Colt 45. It is true that there might be those more skilled in such matters than our hero, who appears to be limited to kicking, punching and jumping, but that doesn't deter him in the slightest. He also has the strange and hitherto unknown move of turning his back on his opponent and, lets be frank about this, sticking his posterior in no uncertain manner out towards the fellow he's supposed to be fighting. Better sociologists than me can argue about the precise effect this is supposed to have: I believe it to be an enraging tactic. He probably expects Lhe foe to see red and lose control. You have a better idea? Well then. The aforementioned banker is gloating it up over the gold at the front of the cross-Arizona express. Before our man can get to him. though, he is temporarily distracted by a man intent on fisticuffs and a collection of single-minded capitalist running-dogs. While these are being got rid off by left hooks, high kicks and the mystery buttock-based Backsider. the train is getting up steam and leaving the station. With one mighty bound, our hero is atop the end carriage. Fortunately for him "and others, as we shall see', there are no railway bridges on the Arizona-Paddington line. Not until Penzance, anyhow. It's also lucky that Network Out West haven't got around to electrifying this branch line.
So there are no railway-based impediments to stop him crawling along the top of the train and reaching the carriage where the banker resides. There are, however, hired hands to waylay him and put a decadent capitalist end to his brave workers fight. Bum or no bum. The first lackey is unarmed. He can jump though, and the People's Hero has his work cut out in getting to the end of the carriage. It's no good just cutting and feinting until the opponent gets tired, as after a few seconds a bomb appears on the coupling. If it takes too long to send the bourgeois pig to his death, then all is lost. The next evil repressor of the working man is a little better armed. He's got a box of Indian clubs, and throws them down the train with monotonous regularity. So it's run, duck. run. duck and run until the guy is within reach. - The next man has, woe. a gun. This is more tricky, but can be beaten by a true pioneer of Socialism. Remember - "Get the Gold! Kill the Banker!" ACU #8706     
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