When y'belly up to the bar at the Blast Off Inn (located near L5, with a picturesque view of the universe rotating by once per minute, in the windows underfoot), you might hear the story of Cowboy R.
It seems that Cowboy R was once known as Cowboy X, asteroid miner and desperado. In them days, he rode a freighter scooter out of a little habitat called Grimy Gulch, on account of how it wudn't so clean.
Well, this here Cowboy X fella, he had a claim stamp marked with his brand -- a big, red X. He'd haul a load of ore in, take a little leave, and get hisself lit.
Now, a lot of yer space cowboys like t' go large a l'il, and the folks of Grimy Gulch, they understood that... heck, they was set up for it. This Cowboy X, though, he'd get hisself a snootfull, and he'd take that claim stamp, and he'd stamp his big, red X on everything in sight. Dogs, cats, ferrets, foreheads, buttocks, teats... you name it, he'd stamp it.
Some of the fine citizens of Grimy Gulch got a little tired of washin' Xs off of stuff. 'cept for Trixi, who thought the whole thing was cute, though maybe a little kinky... but that's another story. Anyway, these fine citizens, they got together, and discussed what to do. In the end (mos'ly 'cause Trixi wou'n't let 'em shove 'im out an airlock), they decided to just ask Cowboy X to stop markin' up the place with big, red Xs.
Whelp, the next time he come in with a load o' ore, the Fine Citizens Committe met ol' Cowboy X at the dock, an' they asked him right nice if he wou'n't consider stoppin' t' mark the place up with big, red Xs.
Cowboy X thought about it, and decided that was a reasonable request. So he went down t' the claim office, an' got hisself a new stamp, a new brand -- a big, red R.
Now'a'days, he gets hisself a snootfull, an' stamps that big, red R everywhere y'look.
It's wha'cha might call a happy ending.