Now, I knew his eyes were a little lopsided, but I thought it unlikely that the mouth shared Hex's disfigured grimace as well, but as I peered over, darned if I couldn't make out the resemblance! (Technically I guess it is a mirror image, but still, for happenstance it's pretty close, I thought.)
"Your mother doesn't know who that is sweetie." I explained. "Aww," said Fenya.
I took a lot away from this tiny (and surprisingly typical) exchange:
- The accuracy and perception of Fenya's characterization.
- The charming juxtaposition of a jolly confectionery snowman and a disfigured, macabre comic book bounty hunter.
- The fact that my eldest could end up being a pop culture monster, if only we paid more attention to the things that are popular now.
- Her sadness that her mother neither recognized nor appreciated the reference.
Jonah Hex was fast on the draw, and a deadly shot with either his twin Dragoons or a repeating Winchester, but his most deadly weapon was clearly his mind and both his tactical and strategic savvy. Any time you saw some owlhoot draw down on Hhex's silhouette and pull the trigger, long time readers would chuckle to themselves, knowing this rube had actually just shot a comrade that Hex had tied into his saddle and dressed in his battered old Confederate army jacket (although, even as a young man, I wondered how he kept finding tailors to wash out the blood and patch the numerous bullet holes...).
My favourite though, was how an adversary in a saloon might get the drop on Hex's back, only to have him turn around while lighting a stick of dynamite from his cigar. The TNT would be revealed to be a dud of some fashion, but only after Jonah used the momentary surprise to draw and fire, which would usually result in more bounty income.