The Western Wasteland

"You got what you were after, so pay up." A voice said. My head swam, and i lolled my head around a little bit.

"You're cryin' in the rain, pally" a smooth voice replied.

I open my eyes and look around. 'Dammit, my hooves are tied.' I think. I struggle with my bindings for a second before looking up to my captors.

Two of them are wearing what I assume to be Palomino* armor. The third is dressed in a striped suit, probably from before the war.

"Guess who's wakin' up over here" the last stallion says.

The stallion in the suit takes a puff from his cigarette and drops it on the ground, snuffing it out as well. he's the only one that seems at ease.

"Time to cash out" the suited stallion says.

"Would you get it over with?" the first stallion says, a little nervous-looking.

"Maybe Palominos kill people without looking them in the face, but I ain't a fink, dig?" the suited stallion says.

The stallion reaches into his chest pocket and pulls out . . . my contract! The platinum chip! I was so focused on the chip that i barely heard what the bastard said to me next.

"You've made your last delivery kid." He puts the chip back into his pocket and pulls out a custom, engraved 9mm pistol, all silver except for the hoofgrip, which has an image of Celestia on it. "Sorry you got twisted up in this scene. . . From where you're sitting, it must seem like an 18-carat run of bad luck."

He effortlessly aims the pistol at my head.

"Truth is. . . the game was rigged from the start." He pulls the trigger, and I only recall darkness.