The cowboy journey to the pearly gates

A dust-covered, sharp-looking cowboy suddenly found himself standing right before St. Peter at the grand entrance of the Pearly Gates.

St. Peter looked over his heavy golden book, peered over his spectacles, and asked, “Have you ever performed any act of extraordinary courage or particular merit during your time down on Earth?”

“Well, now that you mention it, I can think of one notable thing,” the cowboy drawled thoughtfully, tipping his wide-brimmed Stetson hat.

“I was taking a scenic ride through the Black Hills out in South Dakota when I came upon a rough-looking gang of motorbikers surrounding and harassing a helpless young woman on the side of the trail. I firmly ordered them to back off and leave her alone, but they just laughed and refused to listen.

So, I stepped right up to the biggest, most heavily tattooed leader of the crew. I looked him dead in the eye, smacked him across the jaw, kicked his heavy custom bike right onto its side, ripped out his nose ring, and threw it straight onto the dirt!

I pointed my finger right in his face and yelled, ‘Now, you all get out of here right this second, or I am going to thrash every single one of you!'”

St. Peter leaned back, thoroughly impressed by the man’s immense bravery, and asked, “My goodness, that sounds remarkable! When exactly did all of this happen?”

The cowboy adjusted his belt buckle and replied, “About two minutes ago.”