//------------------------------// // Chapter Two: Drinks & Dues // Story: Tales From The West: Grit & Lead // by Docks //------------------------------// Chapter Two A lone earth pony stood in front of a hole-ridden sign with the words: “Welcome to Agua Fria.” crisply painted in white lettering. The stallion let out a relieved sigh and shook his reddish-brown hued mane with a hoof and pulled the dark tan sheet cloth that encompassed his upper body closer as he slowly cantered towards the sun covered buildings. The stallion trotted through the busy community, passing by a various mix of ponies from unicorn businesscolts dressed in dapper suits to humble cowponies talking shop. The earth pony ignored the calls of the town’s street vendors peddling their wares from behind makeshift stalls as he headed straight for a small wooden building with a sign above it that read: “X X X” in white ink. As the pony entered the bar his nostrils were filled with the distinct stench of hay smoke and booze. He immediately snorted out the invisible debris as he moved through the haze filled room and sat at the nearest unoccupied bar stool. The pony turned around and saw the most of the bar’s occupants either sleeping or quietly talking amongst themselves. “Name your poison stranger.” Asked a voice behind him. The stallion turned his head back and was faced with a pale blue pegasus mare standing behind the bar counter. “Shot ah’ your cheapest whiskey ma’am.” Grumbled the olive-brown coated earth pony. The mare let out a little chuckle as she polished a mug with a cloth clenched in her wing. “You’re better off drinkin’ the sweat from our cook’s greasy flank than what you’re askin’ fer. How about I get ya’ somethin’ smoother?” The bartender suggested. The stallion sighed as he loosened his cloth garment with a hoof. “...I’m a little short on bits ma’am so I don’t think I’m open to many options.” The newcomer begrudgingly announced. The mare’s smile didn’t falter as she placed the now clean mug away. She quickly grabbed an unmarked bottle and poured its dark gold contents into a small shot glass and offered it to the stallion before her. “Consider it on the house partner.” The earth pony quickly thanked the kind pegasus, but before he could down the glass a faint cough interrupted the thirsty stallion. “On one condition, you tell me what brought ya’ here to Agua Fria.” The bartender proposed. The stallion let out a reluctant sigh before he rummaged through his cloth garment. The pony placed a faded photograph of a smug looking stallion with two twisters intertwined together adorning his flank onto the bar’s wooden counter. “I reckon yer’ lookin for this pony?” The mare asked as she strained her eyes looking at the picture. The stallion slowly nodded his head. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen him?” The bartender’s patron asked. “Sorry hun ain’t seen a pony like him before walk through town. You’re better off asking over in Cross Roads, major trading post, lots of ponies.” The stallion grabbed his shot of whiskey and downed it one gulp. “How do I get there?” The pony immediately asked. “Your best bet is hitching a ride with one of the trade caravans that stocks up on here and heads for the post itself, but dem’ caravan ponies often charge a hefty fee.” The bartender answered. The earth pony sighed to himself before thanking his new acquaintance for the free drink and assistance. The stranger slowly got up from his seat and made his way towards the bar’s door. The stallion paused as he noticed a stained piece of paper listlessly tacked onto the wooden wall next to him. The curios pony began to read the paper’s writing to himself: “BOUNTY: 100 BITS PER RED STRIPE GANG MEMBER, 250 BITS FOR THEIR RING LEADER: TUMBLE “RED” WEEDS. DEAD OR ALIVE,” plastered underneath six faded photographs of a batch of scowling ponies. The stallion faintly smiled to himself as he took the paper off the wall and brought it to the bartender. The mare quickly recognized the paper and flashed the stallion a concerned look. “I didn’t peg you for the desperate type.” The pegasus slowly admonished. “Look, I don’t know if you’re a lightweight when it comes to alcohol or just plum crazy.” “I can hold my whisky just fine ma’am. Now I’d like to hear everything there is ‘bout this bounty.” The stallion dryly stated. “No offense, but you earth ponies ain’t exactly known throughout the Frontier for yer’ finesse with firearms.” The bartender chided, whilst she pointed a hoof at the cherry wood grip protruding from a holster strapped to the pony’s hind leg. The earth pony took a seat and stared straight at the mare’s face. “Ma’am if ya’ would be as kind to tell me everything about um’.” The stallion asked once more, a hint of force behind his voice. The mare was going to object to the stallion’s request until she saw the stallion’s dark orange eyes staring right at her own. She let out a reluctant sigh and sat down next to the stone faced stallion. “Finding that pony must be pretty damned important to ya’ if yer willin’ to risk your life like this.” “You have no idea.” The stranger grumbled under his breath. “The Red Stripes are just small time bandits, lead by some hotshot who thinks just ‘cause he’s got magic and a gun he can waltz in and take whatever he wants.” The mare bitterly stated. “Those bastards fight dirty and the cowards had the gall of offing the sheriff and deputy in their beds instead of facing them in a proper duel. Most of the townsfolk won’t raise a hoof in fear they might do the same thing to their loved ones.” “Lucky for me, I ain’t from ‘round these parts...” The stallion coldly responded. “Please you’ve got to realize no matter how much grit ya’ got, messin’ wid six ponies at once ain’t a bright idea. You’re gonna’ find yourself six feet und-“ The mare’s voice was swiftly drowned out as the sounds of gunfire and distorted screaming flooded into the bar. The bar’s other occupants began to realize what was going on outside and quickly evacuated the bar, leaving the stallion and bartender by themselves. “Oh Celestia! They’re back, look you need to hightail it outta here fast!” The pegasus pleaded. The earth pony ignored her pleas and remained where he sat. The stallion reached into his garments and pulled out several faded silver coins before placing them on the bar counter. “I’d like to order your finest shot of whiskey.” The stallion asked in a leveled tone. The bartender sighed and returned to her station, whilst she began to whisper a short prayer as she took the stallion’s shot glass. “If I’m gonna’ be pourin’ your second shot least ya’ could do is tell me yer name.” The stallion nodded his head in thanks as he took the offered glass. “Names Thistle ma’am.” “If I was yer’ mother I shoulda’ named ya’ Stonewall instead, on the account of how damn stubborn you are. I’ve met my fair share of steadfast drunks but yer’ one of the most hardheaded bastar-.” The mare paused as her ears perked up to the faint noise of horseshoes touching wood. *CREAK* *CREAK* CREAK* The hoof-steps ceased as a mass of silhouettes appeared in front of bar’s wooden door. “By the sun...” The mare whispered. The first pony through the door was a bright red unicorn stallion with a long gray mane and a mirror for a cutie mark. “Did you miss me Bitter Sweet?” The unicorn softly crowed as he sauntered toward the farthest table in the room. The boisterous stallion’s mixed crew of earth ponies and pegasi swiftly joined their leader. Thistle quickly glanced at the gang as they flashed by and took note of the red handkerchiefs each member wore and the clanging of their holstered weaponry. The bartender feigned a smile and trotted toward the garish unicorn and his cohorts, leaving Thistle alone at the bar. “Afternoon Red Weeds, it’s so good to see you back in town again.” Bitter Sweet greeted through clenched teeth. Red Weeds pouted as he looked up at the mare. “No smile for the most handsome stallion you’ve ever seen?” Bitter Sweet ignored the unicorn’s advance and pulled out a small piece of paper with a wing. “What will you and your boys be havin’ today?” “I know what I’ll be having!” One of the gang members yelled as his eyes slowly drifted down the mare’s legs. Red Weeds slapped his minion over the head and immediately chided his compatriot with a wag of his hoof. “Please refrain yourself. Gentlecolts like us shouldn’t treat a beautiful mare in such a tasteless manner.” Red Weeds swiftly declared as he flashed an apologetic look at Bitter Sweet. All six ponies shortly burst into laughter as they began shouting out orders to the unfortunate mare. Bitter Sweet quickly wrote down each individual order and took her leave of the dangerous outlaws. Once the six gang members began drinking their antics grew more boorish; one of the gang members eventually grew curios of the bar’s other occupant and wandered over to the lone figure. A hoof smashed down right next to Thistle, causing the bar counter to shake and almost tip over the full shot glass next to his hoof. “Hey boss, get a load of this pony.” The owner of the hoof yelled to his compatriots. Thistle quickly found himself flanked by the rowdy stallions. “What’s this pony wearing? Looks like he just cut a hole in a sheet of cloth an’ placed it over his head!” A stout earth pony mocked as he poked at Thistle’s garment. “Oi, I’ve seen one of those things before, it’s called a pawn-choo or somethin’ like that. A lot of those donkeys from Burros wear ‘um. Makes ‘um look like a buncha idjits wearin’ blankets if ya ask me!” A lanky pegasus shrilly answered. “You half donkey?” One of the gang members spat as he prodded Thistle’s withers with a dirty hoof. “Shoot, he must be considering how ugly he is!” Red Weeds interjected as he began to laugh uncontrollably. “You some sort of mute, half-breed?” The unicorn taunted as he attempted to provoke a reaction from the silent pony. Thistle continued to ignore the gang’s taunts and simply kept his eyes upon the shot glass in front of him. Eventually, Red Weeds let out a frustrated snort towards the calm earth pony before knocking over his drink with a forceful strike of his hoof. “Bah, this pony’s got shit brain! Let’s get outta here and go collect our dues boys!” Red Weeds roared to his cohorts. The bandit ringleader and his followers exited the now devastated bar and began to fill the town’s street with vulgarity as they searched for their next target. Bitter Sweet let out a massive sigh of relief as she checked around to make sure all the bandits had left her establishment. “Phew. You really should be called Stonewall, ‘cause if I was in yer position just then, I woulda planted a hoof right between that red coated bastard’s ugly mug.” The mare fetched herself a broom and slowly began to clean up the mess the bandits left. “I know I can’t convince ya’ to leave...Please be careful out there.” Bitter Sweet quietly stated as she looked up to see Thistle get up from his seat to stretch out his limbs. The earth pony finished his stretching and promptly ran his hoof across his chest to check the various pouches and bandoliers concealed by his clothing. “Don’t go worryin’ ‘bout me. You just keep yer head down when you start hearin’ gunfire.” Thistle bluntly answered. Bitter Sweet was dumbfounded by the stallion’s slack demeanor and simply watched the stallion work. Satisfied with his adjustments, Thistle thanked his host and slowly stepped out of the bar. The bartender hastily climbed the stairs behind her and trotted straight for a window sill that overlooked the town’s dirt road. Bitter Sweet noticed that most of the town inhabitants were doing the same, observing and waiting to see the ensuing chaos that was about to engulf their town. As he exited the bar and trotted into the bright desert sun, Thistle shielded his eyes as he looked across the now deserted town’s dirt road in search of his quarry. Upon finding his intended targets lounging around Agua Fria’s single watering well; he began to slowly trot towards the town’s center. One of the bandits looked up from a recently plundered burlap sack and noticed the lone pony casually strolling towards him. “Hey Boss, who’s that down there?” The astute bandit asked whilst pointing at the hazy silhouette. “I have no clue, bucko but let’s just relax here for now and see what this pony wants.” Red Weeds coolly replied as he reclined on the well’s bricked edges. Thistle eventually halted fifteen paces away from the group of bandits and calmly awaited their response. The six ponies arose from their various activities, with Red Weeds taking the lead and the other five forming a horizontal line behind him. The gang’s leader flung his hooves in a grand gesture as he recognized the stallion. “Well if it isn’t our mute friend from the bar! So what brings you before me? Want to prove you can actually speak or are you gonna just stand there lookin’ dumb?” Red Weeds crudely jabbed. Thistle remained unmoved by the unicorn’s continued taunts and simply shook his head in response. “Y’all owe me a drink and then some.” Thistle calmly answered. “Hahahaha! Well I’ll be, the pony can actually talk! Sorry friend I just ain’t in the giving mood right now, so why don’t you mosey on outta here before I decide to gun you down like the mongrel you are!” The unicorn fired back. The earth pony let out an audible sigh. “I ain’t askin nicely and I intend to collect my dues.” Thistle answered in the same easy tone as before. All six of the gang members looked at the lone stallion and began to break down in brash laughter. “If you can’t consider that comedy then I’m the bloody Princess!” One gang member shouted. Red Weeds shook his head in disbelief. “The sun must have done a number on yer brain! I should really just shoot you right now, but you’re just too much of a jokester!” The group of ponies slowly settled down as the laughter amongst the group of bandits began to die down. Red Weeds wiped a joyful tear from his eyes and quickly adopted a more menacing tone. “Look, I’ve been having a wonderful day so far and I wouldn’t like to shoot the pony responsible for it. So why don’t you just high tail it outta this town!” Thistle shook his head and flashed a frown in response. “No can do partner...I ain’t leavin’ till you pay up...” The earth pony sharply stated as he began to tense his entire body, and in a flash of whirling tan and brown Thistle swiftly reared onto his hind legs, revealing the black bandoliers that crossed his upper body and waist. The pony’s muscles began to flex and tense in anticipation; his left fore-hoof primed to draw the firearm right below his tensed limb. All six of the bandits took a look at the pony’s strange stance and began to break down into laughter once more. “Hah! He looks like he’s ready to take ya to a square dance Boss!” One bandit crooned through bouts of laughter. The rest of the gangsters followed up with various jokes and jibes directed at the standing pony several paces away from them. The red unicorn let out torrents of laughter, before quickly subduing his merriment. “Hah-Hahahaha! I appreciate the comical gesture my friend, but sadly, it’s rapidly losing its appeal.” Red Weeds stated; his tone immediately growing darker. Thistle’s ears registered the unicorn’s threat and his eyes immediately focused upon the menacing unicorn’s glowing horn. A red aura began to slowly surround itself on the rifle strapped to Red Weeds’ back, before slowly drawing it to his side. The other five ponies behind him followed suit as they clumsily fiddled with their own weapons. “You know the drill boys. On three!” Red Weeds rattled off. “One…T-” As the unicorn’s countdown continued Thistle’s mind and body remained primed and ready. The lone stallion’s surroundings began to slow down and the actions of the ponies in front of him came to a slow crawl. Thistle’s heart began to pump massive doses of adrenaline and endorphins into his bloodstream, whilst his brain rapidly flashed signals to the millions of nerves that lined every muscle and tendon inside the pony’s body. “Two...” Time began to return to normal for the stallion as he grasped his revolver’s dark red handle in a single maneuver; his free hoof rapidly slammed down upon the firearm’s hammer. ”...Thre-“ *CLICK*BANG* *CLICK*BANG* *CLICK*BANG* *CLICK*BANG* *CLICK*BANG* Red Weeds visibly flinched as he felt five searing pieces of lead cut the air surrounding his head. The shell shocked unicorn quickly turned his head to catch all five of his compatriots’ motionless bodies slam into the unforgiving dirt. Slicks of crimson began to form and pool underneath their fallen bodies. Red Weeds confused faced turned into one of desperation as he focused his attention back onto his opponent. The unicorn’s nerves faltered and he began to slowly back away from the indifferent looking earth pony. The stallion across from him let out a cold chuckle as he noticed his prey’s magic begin to fade out. Red Weeds hastily cursed to himself as his only weapon fell out of his useless horn’s grasp. Thistle responded with the sound of his revolver’s hammer being cocked once more. “Wait!” Red Weeds yelled as he flailed his hooves in the air. “Okay, you proved that you’re one mean sonovabitch!” Thistle took notice of the groveling unicorn’s plea and slowly eased off his firearm’s hammer. “Please spare me! I’ll buy you the whole damned bar’s reserve...I’ll leave this town and never come back! I’ll even give you all the money we’ve been collecting from this town!” The unicorn begged as he lowered his entire body and slowly crawled towards the still standing stallion, pausing when his head was mere inches from the deadly stallion’s legs. Red Weeds’ raised his head and looked straight into Thistle’s emotionless eyes. “So what do ya’ say!?” Thistle let out a bitter laugh before slowly shaking his head in disagreement. “Gutless...” The cold faced pony hissed. Thistle calmly placed his gun’s barrel directly between the unnerved unicorn’s eyes. Red Weeds’ eyes squinted as they glimpsed down the unforgiving black barrel pressing down on his forehead. “Please...” Red Weeds quietly begged before breaking into a whimper as he heard the hammer's ominous clicking. “PLEASE!” *BANG* A single thunderous crack echoed throughout the small town. The outlaw’s body violently jerked as the force of the bullet’s impact threw Red Weed's body into the orange dirt. Thistle took his hoof off the hammer and pressed down on the area between the gun’s cylinder and barrel. His revolver’s cylinder unhitched and ejected all six of the spent casings into the air. The gunslinger watched the empty casings bounce off of Red Weeds’ lifeless body and returned to his normal four-legged stance, before casually fishing through the pouch on his left leg. Thistle promptly pulled out a cylindrical device with six bronze coated casings attached to it. Using his mouth and hooves in conjunction, the stallion reloaded his revolver and locked the cylinder and barrel back into place. Thistle turned his attention to the large shadows that were beginning to circle around the freshly slain ponies. Before Thistle could get away from the carnage; he was rapidly swarmed by twenty ponies all yelling their thanks and showering the gunslinger in praise. The stallion soon found himself being hoisted above the crowd and was slowly paraded back to the Bitter Sweet’s bar by the giddy townsfolk. The whole town of Agua Fria quickly packed into the wooden bar and began to hold a makeshift celebration for their new hero. “By Celestia! Where in Tartarus did you learn those moves!?” Bitter Sweet exclaimed as she quickly began placing empty glass mugs onto the bar counter. The gunslinger was quickly placed back on the ground and slowly trotted toward the grinning bartender. “Where do you want me to begin?” Thistle replied. “Well for starters, where did you come by that revolver? It’s a strange piece, no trigger on it at all!” Bitter Sweet hastily stated as she pushed a shot glass towards the now seated pony. Thistle un-holstered his weapon and handed it to the mare for inspection. The mare used her wings to hold and examine the revolver’s trigger-less grip. Bitter Sweet squinted her eyes as she saw a strange symbol stamped on both sides of the gun barrel “Never seen this gunsmith’s mark before. Looks like an hourglass with the letter “W” behind it.” Thistle nodded his head as he took his revolver back. “I don’t know who the gunsmith was but the pony that sold it to me said it came from Stalliongrad.” “Shoot, that’s hundreds of miles from the Frontier, but whoever crafted it knew what the hay they were doing.” Bitter Sweet affirmed. “Now onto the real question! Where did you even learn to stand on your back hooves like that and be a damned dead-eye whilst doing so!?” Thistle deflected the mare’s question with an abrupt grunt before picking up his glass of whiskey. “Touchy subject? I won’t pry if it’s too personal...” Bitter Sweet hesitantly replied. “I think you’ve got some other customers to attend to now.” Thistle calmly pointed out in an attempt to avoid the mare’s question. The bartender immediately turned around to see the massive throng of ponies eagerly awaiting their own beverages. Bitter Sweet quickly left the bar to attend to the mass of ponies, leaving the celebrant to himself. Thistle advocated staying in the background of the festivities occasional shaking a hoof with admirers or taking a celebratory shot of whisky. The townsfolk of Agua Fria celebrated their new found freedom and the one responsible for it long into the night. Thistle awoke to the familiar sounds of ponies working and going about their daily lives. He began to massage his head as the earth pony began to slowly recall how much whiskey he consumed last night. The pony looked around the simple room and found a nearby closet with all of his gear in it. Just as the pony finished dressing himself in his attire a faint knock greeted the stallion’s ears. “Com-m-e i-in.” Thistle groggily called out as he sat himself back down on the bed. “Mornin’ Thistle.” Bitter Sweet replied as she entered the small room with a laden tray neatly balanced upon her back. “You don’t have to do this for me.” The stallion stated as he assisted the mare. “Quit actin’ so damned nice! You deserve every ounce of praise for helpin’ us! Now drink some water, you must be dyin’ of thirst after drinking that much whiskey.” The stallion nodded his head in agreement before grabbing the glass pitcher and immediately downing its contents. “Phew! You don’t know much I needed that.” Thistle exclaimed. The bartender responded with a nod of her head and made her way back towards the room’s wooden door. “I’ll just let ya enjoy your meal in solitude, come back down stairs when you’re finished. Got word a caravan should be making its way here in an hour or so.” Bitter Sweet stated as she flashed a smile at the messy looking stallion. The gunslinger bowed his head in thanks and watched the mare take her leave. Thistle abandoned any proper etiquette he learned as he quickly devastated the stacks of toast and jam that lay before him. “Celestia! It only took ya two minutes to finish breakfast! Didn’t your mother tell you its bad to eat that fast?” Bitter Sweet playfully chided as she saw the earth stallion descend down the bar’s stairs. Thistle flashed his host a sheepish grin as he made his way towards her. “Thanks for the food. Wish I knew how to make toast like that.” “Goin’ on what you told me yesterday, I don’t think you’d have the time to bake out on the frontier...” Bitter Sweet paused as she looked into the stallion’s eyes. “You know...that was pretty ruthless.” Thistle didn’t flinch from the mare’s gaze or abrupt statement. “The Frontier ain’t know for playin’ nice.” The gunslinger callously replied. “I ain’t judging you, The bastard got what was comin’ to him...I’m just a little confused on how a good hearted pony like yourself could do somethin’ like that.” Bitter Sweet openly contemplated. Thistle registered the mare’s words and elected to remain quiet, blanketing the atmosphere around the pair in an awkward silence. Thistle was the first to break the silence with a abrupt cough. “...Say, have you seen my bags anywhere? I checked the room and only found my gear.” “It’s outside on the patio, the townsfolk wanted to stock it full of the things you asked for. Oh, they also placed your earned bits, the mayor said it’s been tallied up to be about, 1150 bits in all.” Bitter Sweet quickly responded. “1150 bits? I thought the total bounty was 750 bits?” Thistle interjected. “It was, but the townsfolk wanted to really show their thanks by throwing in all the bits Red and his boys took yesterday.” The mare soothed. “I appreciate the gesture, but the other 400 bits belong to you ponies.” Thistle quietly answered. “Deadly with a gun and a modest stallion. I’m amazed that there’s a pony like you hanging around the Frontier.” Thistle let out a faint sigh in response. “Just tryin’ to be a decent stallion is all ma’am.” The gunslinger politely replied. Bitter Sweet smiled and checked the faded clock above the bar’s counter. “You better get goin’, those caravan types ain’t know for their patience.” Thistle thanked his host once more and headed for the bar’s exit. The stallion paused as he felt the hooves of Bitter Sweet wrap around him. “Thanks for everything you done for Agua Fria.” Bitter Sweet gingerly stated as she tightened her hug. “I don’t exactly know that much about you; but If you ever find yourself around these parts please come lookin’ for me.” “I can’t guarantee anythin’.” The stallion bluntly replied whilst he tried to hide his crimson hued face. “You’re quite the strange pony, aren’t you Thistle?” Bitter Sweet questioned before letting him go. “Folks tend to say that about me.” The pony in question slowly answered before flashing a small smile at the mare in front of him. The bartender let out a soft chuckle before guiding Thistle to the bar’s exit. The stallion said his final goodbyes to his gracious host and trotted out onto Agua Fria’s packed street filled with ponies and a train of wooden carriages. The town slowly began to erupt in a wave of applause as they saw the gunslinger trotting amongst them. Thistle slowly rummaged through his pack and took out two plump burlap sacks and gave them to a nearby unicorn and told the pony what he should do with the bags. The poncho clad stallion placed his laden saddlebags onto his back and waved a hoof before climbing onto a covered wagon at the middle of the caravan. Thistle observed a unicorn garbed in tan overalls blow a whistle whilst signaling with his hooves. The caravan began to slowly lurch forward and the town’s citizens’ happy cries flooded into Thistle’s carriage. The stallion popped his head out and watched the townsfolk follow behind the retreating carriages; he noticed a blue pegasus hovering above the crowd. The gunslinger smiled to himself as he waved goodbye to the slowly fading town. Thistle began to settle down in the covered wagon before rummaging through his saddlebags. Pulling out a needle and red thread, the earth pony took his cloth garment off and began threading a strand of red onto his simple poncho. The pony began humming a tune to himself as he worked, pausing every so often to enjoy the desert scenery that slowly passed by.