Traditional style colour tattoo of a cartoon chicken with a red comb holding a revolver, shown on the calf from three angles.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cartoon chicken with revolver on a calf

Traditional · Calf · Colour · Photo

A cartoon chicken with a bright red comb, orange beak and orange feet stands upright, aiming a grey revolver held in front of its black body. A brown holster or pouch hangs at its side. The design uses bold black outlines and flat areas of red, orange and grey with soft shading on the pale belly, and three side-by-side views show it on a calf.

Traditional Calf Revolver Cartoon Bird

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The hens had been stuck at the Drover's Rest since the Tuesday the pass shut, and by the third week of snow even the pastor had stopped pretending to enjoy his sermons. You are the only one who has noticed that the cellar door is open. Wilhelmina Pike, the landlady, swears she locked it, and the chicken swears nothing at all, because Gideon, the cockerel who has ruled the yard since before the stage line was built, is not a bird that swears. He is a bird that carries a long-barrelled revolver.

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You find him in the stable at first light, standing on a bale of straw with his red comb nodding like a tipped hat. The revolver is trained on the doorway, steady as a church bell. Something is coming through the drift, you can hear it breathing, and Gideon does not blink. Behind him the brown holster hangs off a nail, empty for once, because he has already fired it twice this winter and never once missed a fox.

Nobody tells you how the thing in the snow turns out to be a bearded tax collector with a mule and a grudge against the pass. Gideon lowers the barrel an inch, which the old hands at the bar will tell you is the most dangerous thing he ever does. The collector takes one look at that orange beak, pale as a dinner plate in the lantern light, and turns the mule round.

That evening Wilhelmina serves the stew with an extra lump of suet, and the cockerel gets the first spoonful, as he always does. Nobody ever settles whether he earned it or simply took it. Outside the snow keeps falling, and the bolt on the cellar door stays shot.