Desperado and Lefty

by Ron Jeremy Pony

First published

Sitting a bar, trying to forget the trying day, a NCR Ranger re-tales one of the more famous local legends.

Legends have a way of becoming romanticized. Even when those legends have darker origins than others realize. The Legend of Desperado and Lefty is one such story. Two friends that had a plan to help their settlement, and how it all turned sideways. Sometimes, not always, but sometimes, the ones to remember are the ones that morn, and for a NCR Ranger having a drink, considering what happened, and how it ended up wrong for two bandits, it's the closest that anyone can get to mourning in the Wasteland.

Inspired by Willie Nelson's Pancho and Lefty

Art is by Exlinard.

The only one

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Desperado And Lefty

The dust swirled around the hooves of the Ranger as she stepped into the small bar. Two days of patrolling the southwest border of old Las Pegasus had been taxing. She'd done more than was expected. Helping to stop a bounty Hunter after a runaway slave was the final nail in the coffin that was her shift.

Right now she looked forward to getting good and drunk, maybe enjoy some apple pie, and Goddesses willing if there was a buck that was willing, or on the clock, she could use a good screw.

Taking a seat at the bar she heard a song she had heard a few times over the years. She removed the gas mask, taking a moment to glare at the bard.

♪Living on the road my friend
Was gonna keep you free and clean…♫

She heard some remark how it was such a romantic story.

"Didn't happen like the song."

The stallion talking looked at her. Her caramel colored coat, and black main, had streaks of gray in them.

"What happened?"

She grunted, "I'm not drunk enough to talk about how Desperado got fucked over."

The bard, not hearing their conversation continued.

♫Now you wear your skin like iron
Your breath's as hard as kerosene
You weren't your mama's only boy
But her favorite one it seems…♪

The stallion slid a tumbler of wild Pegasus toward her. It floated in the air, an aura of soft blue magic surrounding it. She sighed, tilted her head back and let the delightful burn if two hundred year old whiskey rush down her throat to her stomach.

"So, what happened?" he asked

She shook her head, "I suppose if you're willing to buy me a drink I can tell a little.”

As she looked at him the singer continued the song behind them.

♪She began to cry when you said goodbye
And sank into your dreams
Desperado was a bandit boys
His hooves was fast as polished steel
Wore his gun outside his vest
For all the honest world to feel
Desperado met his match you know
On the deserts down in Marico
Nobody heard his dying words

That's the way it goes
All the NCR Rangers say
They could have had him any day
They only let him hang around
Out of kindness I suppose♫

The Stallion listened as she closed her eyes.

"It was before the Stable Dweller brought back the sun for everypony. About six years before actually,"she said with a ghost of a smile, "The place I was stationed at received word that a community that was a protectorate of ours had just been robbed of their entire bankroll."

She looked at him, "Forty thousand caps. It was a small fortune, and two bandits had strolled into the bank and looted it."

She laughed, "They convinced the manager that there was an entire gang ready to sack and rape the entire community if they didn't hand over the bankroll."

As the bard continued singing the ballad for Desperado and Lefty she grinned.

"We arrived a few hours after it happened, and we followed the tracks they left behind."

The NCR ranger shook her head.

"Looking back on it the tracks didn't indicate anypony more than two," she took another tumbler of wild Pegasus and downed it, "Most ponies want to know how we found out that Lefty fucked Desperado over."

The Stallion grinned, "Sure, but more than that, how did anypony find out about who Desperado was."

She sighed, "On the trail they took was an old shack, pre war, and it had notes about the plan for the heist, but it also had a recorder. Mostly it was the two talking, but we found out that Desperado was planning on taking his share back to his mother."

She closed her eyes again, the memory so clear, but then it wasn't like she had a memory orb recorded for it.

"The recorder wasn't much. We knew both of them came from Hope, and we knew most likely neither knew about the slavers that hit hope and took everypony," she leaned forward, "Chances were Desperado's mother was already dead. But the recorder did say they were heading for Marico."

She blew out a stray breath, "and we headed that way. What we found was Desperado, hobbling because Lefty had shot him in the leg. Apparently Lefty showed his true nature when he figured we were after them. We tried to give Desperado a chance to surrender, but he pulled his revolver."

She looked at the stallion, a Pegasus himself, and sighed, "No offense, but we knew Lefty was a Pegasus. He didn't have to shoot Desperado, but I know it was so that we would have to deal with him."

She shook her head again, "The song is wrong about something else," she leaned closer, "I heard his dying words."

"W...what did he say?" the Stallion asked.

She grinned, "Mama, I'm sorry."

The Stallion turned his head, and she took one more drink.

"Got to say, you're looking good for fifteen years of running."

He slumped, "I'm not him."

She raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

He nodded, "Lefty died in Oneigh. Hellhounds got him. I was waiting for him."

She nodded, "So, was the plan to off Desperado?"

The Stallion shook his head, "Nope, Lefty got greedy. Figure he was going to do the same to me."

Sitting there She knew that officially she would have to document what she found out. Officially she was supposed to take in this accomplice, but officially she was off duty, and officially she didn’t see the need to take him in. Lefty was dead, Desperado was dead, and the forty thousand caps was most likely sitting in Oneigh. Sure, it would be hell to recover, but that was a worry for another day.

“So what happens now?” the Pegasus Stallion asked.

She took in how he looked. He wasn’t bad looking, his colors were crisp, a nice soft orange, a light blue mane, and he seemed friendly enough.

“I forget what you told me, we find a room, and you make this mare feel like a younger mare again. Sound good?”

He smiled, “I suppose.” With that they left the bar in Sugar Top Cafe and walked toward the rooms.