AN Abergavenny man who believed he came from a long line of ne’er do wells and grifters, has expressed his shock upon learning that his is related to a Wild West legend!

“As someone who grew up idolising Clint Eastwood and sharp-shooting sons of bitches, the thought of having pioneer and outlaw blood flowing through my veins is a real buzz,” explained semi-professional paranormal investigator Johnny Turnip.

“I’ve always drank a lot of coffee and whiskey, and never feel more at home than when I’m camping by a little stream with a little fire on the go and eating out of a can of beans.

"I even play the harmonica for Christ’s sake,” explained Turnip.

He added, “In hindsight, I was born to be a cowboy. My outlaw soul also explains why I’ve never been able to hold down regular work and walk bow-legged. I’ve never been one to run with the horses and now I know why. I was destined to put a saddle on them and hit the trail instead!”

Turnip told the Chronicle that it was Nanny Annie ‘Horror Show’ Turnip who revealed that he was related to a legendary figure of the Old West.

“It’d been a family secret for generations,” explained Turnip. “Why? Nobody really knew, but from what I can gather it has something to do with gold.”

Turnip explained that after being invited around Nanny Turnip’s house in Llanfoist for a family meeting she made the shock announcement.

“She called it a family meeting, but it was just me and the old witch there so I knew something was up,” explained Turnip.

“As we sat around the cauldron drinking vodka and eating her famous fish stew, made with freshly caught eels from the River Usk, she looked at me with her beady and squinting eyes, and as she scowled at me and her mean, thin lips began to quiver, I could tell she was getting emotional.

“‘Johnny!’ she said.

“Keen to head her off at the pass I quickly said, ‘Look ‘Horror-Show’!’ If it’s about the money I got for those knock-off Gucci handbags, you’ll get your cut. I’m just a bit short at the minute. What about starting my own paranormal research agency and all that? But with a few successful cases under my belt, I’ll soon be solvent and you’ll get what’s yours you old hag!’”

Turnip explained, “‘Horror-Show’ usually responds well to vicious insults, but not this time. She just sighed wearily and shook her head.

“‘Have you been taking your codeine?’ I asked concerned at Nanny Annie’s worrying lack of p*ss and vinegar.

“‘It’s about this Mickey Mouse business of yours that I want to speak, boy!’ She said with a flash of terrible violence in her bloodshot eyes.

“‘I hope you’re not talking about Turnip’s Twilight Paranormal Research Society!’ I said, all affronted.

“‘Baagghh!’ She said as if bringing up something half-dead from her throat. ‘What sort of clown show is that for a Turnip to be involved in? Where’s your quality boy? If he could, your father would claw his way out of the grave and beat you black and blue for getting involved in such nonsense!’

“‘Chasing ghosts!’ She sneered. ‘You might as well be chasing rainbows. Running about town with that flash prick who thinks he’s Paul McCartney’s son and the big half-wit from the Mardy.’

“‘If you’re talking about Puerto Rico Paul and Big Tony you vicious little bitch, they’re not only my mates but they’ve helped me save the world on more than one occasion. So put that in your pipe and choke on it!’ I roared before downing the rest of my pint of vodka and making to leave.”

Turnip explained, “Before I could get to the door, ‘Horror-Show’ was on her feet and flying across the room. She has that super zombie speed and strength that a lot of nasty old women have, and just as I was opening the door she slammed it shut and screamed, ‘Young Turnip! It’s high time you knew your birthright and seized your destiny!’

“‘Birthright?’ I said slowly, and instantly felt I was in some badly made film.

“‘Yes!’ She explained. And as we took our seats by the cauldron she poured us both another pint of vodka and told me the story.

“‘Family trees are funny old things.’ She said all wistfully. “The branches are long and many, and some fruits fall off never to be found again, but just occasionally a fruit falls onto fertile ground and creates a tree of its own.’

“‘Talk sense hag!’ I demanded.

“‘You’re direct and one for speaking plain. I like that.’ Said Nanny Annie. ‘Much like your great grandaddy Tally Ho Joe Turnip but even more like the other one. How much do you know of our family Johnny?’

“‘The usual.’ I replied. Tally Ho Joe rocked up from the ‘old country’ in his kayak on the River Usk one day and decided to settle here.’

“Where the ‘old country’ was no-one’s sure. I’ve heard tell it it was a remote island in the Pacific. Yet others have said it was Merthyr Tydfil. It’s all part of the enduring mythology and romance surrounding the Turnip clan.

“‘Did you know Tally Ho Joe had a brother?’ She asked.

“‘A brother!’ I replied, genuinely surprised.

“‘Yes, a brother! My husband and your grandaddy, Taffy Turnip, used to speak of him from time to time when he was in his cups.

She continued, “You see, Taffy wasn’t really Tally Ho Joe’s son. His real dad was his uncle Johnny!’

“‘Johnny!” I said feeling the winds of fate turn into a howl.

“‘Or to give him the name he would later be known by, Potato Creek Johnny!’ Announced ‘Horror-Show’ all triumphant.

“‘You mean the legendary Abergavenny cowboy who emigrated to America and found one of the largest gold nuggets ever discovered in the Black Hills of Dakota?' I gushed, before adding, ‘The same Johnny who is buried next to Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane in Deadwood?’

“‘The one and same!’ Said ‘Horror-Show.’

“‘But I thought his name was John Perrett?’

“‘He was a Turnip!’ Said Nanny Annie in the sort of voice that would tolerate no argument. ‘He changed his name to protect the clan from being overwhelmed with begging letters. And of course to hide the fact that he abandoned his wife, Tricky Turnip, while she was pregnant.’

“‘So Tally-Ho-Joe married Tricky and raised Taffy as his own,’ I asked

“‘It wasn’t all that unusual back then amongst brothers. It still isn’t in many quarters,’ mused ‘Horror-Show’. ‘But yes, that’s the short and long of it. He was the original Johnny Turnip and your father, one-eyed Lenny, who also knew the story, named you after him.’

“‘Mother don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys!’ I mused out loud.

“‘What?’ Barked Nanny Annie.

“‘Nothing!’ I replied. And then the old hag told me something that really blew my mind!"

To be continued.....