One could hear rattlesnakes making muted sounds, cacti had lost their prickliness and jingle jangling sounds could be heard moving closer to where we all were huddled together.

It was Dougie “Whytey” Whyte and his bling blang blang bracelets approaching and looking as if he meant business.

And after missing out on two race meetings, he was looking to getting back to business as usual and get going to capture his thirteenth consecutive Jockey Premiership.

Hot on his heels came the piercing sound of a high-pitched “Yeeeeehaaa” which made many run for cover.

The Kid- Zachariah “The Kid” Purton aka The Zac Attack was back from Phuket- tanned, fit and walking on his middle finger which is not easy to do.

Only Bruce Lee could do handstands on one finger, but here was The Kid actually walking on one. Amazing!

He let out another “Yeeeeehaaa!” and passed some wind in the process. Marriage to the purdy Miss Nicole had not mellowed him.

The Kid and Whytey were back at Shatin and ready to do battle as The Three Amigos sang in the background, Zeek and others in the racing media scribbled like drunken prawns in hot water while the supporting cast of Oompa Loompas wondered what might be in store for them.

Would they be able to play, too? Or would it be another shopping spree and playground for the same two male leads in this three penny horse opera?

Whitey had been saddled by some horrendous barrier draws and the Zac Attack seemed to have the better draws and book of rides but, in the end, the dueling banjos looked as if they could be riding off into the sunset together as The Forgotten Man, Black Brett Prebble, was back on a few horses for Moore The Merrier in a new token of, er. Admiration. Black Brett was a very happy Ooompa Loompa…maybe a little tooooo happy.

But when after three races, the Kid had first shot down Tiny Dickie Lui in Race 1 and then brought down Black Brett in flames and notched up two more bullets, things looked dire for everyone.

Another piercing yeeeehaaaaaa rang out and shook the grandstand and where the cowpokes at the Racing Club stampeded leaving Wally The Pirate Pyrah in their wake and who had to be revived. The ladies held onto their private boxes for dear life.

There was neighing and whinnying and that was only Miss Jenny in the paddock. The horses walked around on tippy toes. They knew The Kid was back with a bang.

Where was Whitey? He was playing a stalking game. Only The Hobbit- Little Timmy Clark- below, stood up to the Kid by banging in a winner. He was like that song by his favorite singer Cher- and Bang Bang, he shot them down.

Then, just to pound home the message that he was ready to take on The Kid and Whitey, the Hobbit banged home another winner after being reunited with Thanksgiving for the fickle Doc Moore The Merrier. Whitey was on the race favorite, but carrying topweight and drawn out on the prairie was too tough and he had ride over mountains and valleys and McDonald’s and did well to settle for second. He was pissed and had to unload.

Meanwhile, all the other Oompa Loompas cheered on The Hobbit with that cacophony of those high-pitched screeching scaring man, woman, beast and birds.

Alfred Hitchcock rolled in his grave.

As the Wild East has always proven, Size matters and you can’t keep a good Whyte man down.

In Race 6, Wild Johnny Size and Whitey aka Butch and Sundance- combined to win easily on Keep-A-Pin which means nada to me.

But it was the next race that mattered when the Kid and Whitey clashed on the race favorites- the former on Casino Caspar Fownes with a flatulence problem- appropriately named Windicator Star- and the latter on Texas Tony Cruz’s Season Star.

Alas, The Kid his banged in his third winner of the day whereas Whitey struggled on his fading star. It just didn’t fire and was knocking on Heaven’s door a long way from home.

As The Kid notched up his fourth winner for the day- he was relentless and ruthless- the sun set on Shatin, and the townsfolk made their way back home.

Apart from The Kid, it had been a good day for Babyface Louie Lui and The Hobbit. Both had booted home two winners each while one other rider was the villain of the day by not looking as if he wanted to win and which would make him a fucking loser- like the boys below.

Zeek was still scribbling, The Three Amigos seemed to have done reasonably well and Miss Jenny just wanted a foot massage.

The Kid shot down a few crows just for the hell of it and just cos he could. It had been a very good day at Tombstone for him.

Whitey was dogged by bad luck- even twelve disciples couldn’t help- but knew that the Fat Lady had yet to sing. And how if she even tried, he’d just have to shoot her. The shootout continues at Happy Valley on Wednesday.