As you may have guessed from the title, once upon a time, there was a
cowboy, named Sam Smedley. As you may also have guessed, he had a nasty
disposition. In particular, if someone else beat him at the rodeo, Sam
would send him one of two things, via the Internet. (What you might not
have guessed is that this takes place in the modern era!)
If Sam felt that the other cowboy beat him by some sort of trickery or
sheer luck, he would send him a picture of some kind of dung. Which kind
he would send depended mainly on how badly he thought he had been cheated.
If it were merely a bit of luck, it might be human dung. A bit worse would
be horse dung. If he were feeling very cheated, and downright ornery, he
might send a picture of coyote dung, or even snake dung. In between were
things like cow, dog, cat, mouse, sheep, and many other types of dung.
Sam wasn't all that bad at rodeo things, but he wasn't all that great
either, so he got beaten quite a lot... and naturally, most of the time he
thought it was by trickery or sheer luck.
On the other hoof, on the rare occasions where Sam felt that the other
cowboy won fair and square, he would send a large, high-resolution,
autographed photograph of the woman he loved. This was, of course, Dale
Evans. (No, the Nasty Cowboy is not Roy Rogers, may he rest in
peace! Naturally, Dale Evans didn't even know that Sam existed.)
Eventually, much to most rodeo people's relief, Sam died. Despite his lack
of sportsmanship or outstanding talent, he was somewhat well known in the
rodeo circuits, to both fans and cowboys alike. Therefore, some fellow
cowboys (some bunch of clowns, perhaps?) decided that someone ought to
write and publish his biography.
The book proceeded smoothly, through Sam's parentage, birth, childhood,
adolescence as a ranch hand, early adulthood in an assortment of manual
labor jobs, and even the beginnings of his rodeo career. However, when it
came to his bizarre way of "congratulating" those who bested
him, they were torn between telling the truth, and not speaking ill of the
dead. In the end, truth won out, because the biographers decided
that the email of the feces is more Smedley than
the Dale.
