Hunt for Killer Cowboy Builder

Says here: Detectives are haunting
department stores, asking hatters if they've
had any large orders for stetsons, or receive
regular one-off requests. As the crimewave
continues, tensions are mounting.

And, ah: Police are pleading
to everyone who uses their local launderette,
"Look out for suspicious men who come in to collect
armfuls of spaghetti'd chaps from the drums. Direct
our eye to where he's hiding."

They're calling him 'Butcher Cassidy',
whoever it is who's filling our streets with sinis-
ter Old West gunslingers, far-from-androgynous,
ruthless android outlaws. Grim Yul Brynners
who won't be shut down affably.

We're told, "If you must see them off,
carry at all times a bar table to upturn.
Aim for the ground beneath them and they'll hoedown.
Don't go round acting like you're James Coburn
or try to hide in a horse trough."

Well... bloody obvious, really.
I suppose there'll be one or two copycat criminals
knocking out cyber sam-your-eye, pirates, animals.
I don't care if they're powered by chaos emeralds;
they'd better not come near me.

They'll catch him soon, imprison
the mad banditsmith. Should be in a dungeon.
Let's see his 'evil genius' get him out of that one.
They won't be playing any Ennio Morricone
or rereleasing, "Where have all the cowboys gone?"
for a while, I should imagine.