The Wrong Stallion

Wright didn’t have time to try and locate his clothes, he had been redressed in prison stripes and quickly discarded the jail clothes and only wore his boxers. He looked at the racks of guns the police had but they were all locked and needed a key. Wright swore to himself and peeked outside the doors to the police station, ponies walked the streets calmly without a care.

Wright crept out the door and snuck alongside the building wall and back around the backs of buildings. As he went from building to building he’d peek down the alleyway to see if there was any-pony looking then zip across to the next building. Finally he reached the back of what he hopped was the clothing store and broke through the back doors and snuck inside the back of the clothing shop, surprisingly it was empty and no-pony was inside, the sign on the front door read ‘Gone fishing, be back later’. Wright let out a sigh of relief “Lucky break” he muttered and closed the door behind him, which didn’t quite stay closed on account of him breaking the door to get in.

He crept around into the clothing section and grabbed: a fine pair of trousers, a plain white t-shirt and a duster coat. For some reason this town didn’t have anything modern and everything seemed to be crafted to resemble the old west clothing. He looked around for a hat and found a black desperado hat with a small quail feather and placed it on his head. He looked around for footwear and didn’t want to get any of the boots because they all looked ridiculously out of his style. But as he was about to leave he saw a nice set of leather boots and some sunglasses with a nice leather jacket.

He was about to take the jacket but realized there was some stupid crafting of a snake on the back that he thought looked kind of stupid so he didn’t take the jacket but did take the shades and boots. He fitted all his clothing on and looked to the cash register, he knew stealing was wrong but at the moment he was technically already a fugitive on account of him breaking out of jail. He walked over and opened the cash register, which was filled with bits and poured them all into his pocket. He felt bad and put back 50 of the bits and left a note ‘Sorry, but I think I need this more than you’ and left out the back door and made his way onto the main street, keeping his hat low on his face so it was harder to depict his facial features.

He heard faint gunshots and looked to where they had come from and saw a small gun shop just out of town. He trotted briskly towards the gun shop and soon was inside the gun shop. Only 3 ponies were inside and one had to be the owner because he was standing behind the counter doing the transaction. The other 2 ponies nodded, put a large caliber rifle in a gun case and left, leaving only Wright and the owner.

Wright stepped forward to the counter and took off his hat. “How can ah help yah today my good fellow?” the owner asked and Wright looked to the large variety of weapons. “I need two revolvers” Wright told him and the owner directed him over to a glass counter where several pistols and revolvers lay. The owner removed the glass lid and set it aside.

“Don’t try nothing funny, they’re all unloaded, an ah’m packin” the owner told Wright who nodded and looked at the revolvers. Wright picked up a semi weathered Colt single action army and stood up on his hindlegs and slid the cylinder along his foreleg. The cylinder was wobbly and didn’t match up nicely with the revolver’s barrel. He started totting with several revolvers to see which one’s suited him best. Unfortunately all had some sort of flaw, whether it be a scorched barrel or a loose trigger, they all had faults.

“Didn’t find one yah like?” the owner asked and Wright nodded “oh I found one I like” he told him and unscrewed the barrel of a Colt single action and screwed it onto a Ruger Blackhawk. He started disassembling a Schofield for its trigger assembly when the gun owner piped up “hey you can’t do that” the owner retorted and Wright shot him a cold glare and continued to disassemble revolvers for their best parts and soon he had two stylish revolvers, the parts didn’t match the original, but they fit together in seemingly perfect unison.

Wright spotted a shotgun that he instantly fell in love with and pointed to the shotgun behind the owner that was displayed in the rack of guns. “Ah...” the owner said and trailed off as he placed the shotgun on the table. “Spas 12, semiautomatic or pump action, switched to the button safety rather than the lever, barrel heat guard, metal folding stock and an adjustable choke. This thing can fire a variety of round as well” the owner said, obviously trying to sell the gun. Wright picked it up in his front hooves and action the gun, it must’ve been brand new because it pumped perfectly, the barrel was clean and there was not a speckle of wear on the gun.

“I want to try them out” Wright told the owner who nodded, grabbing a box of 12 gauge shells and a few revolver rounds he led Wright out back of the shop to a small firing range. “Remember don’t try nothing” the owner told him sternly and Wright nodded and loaded 3 rounds into one revolver and 3 into the other, he also loaded the Spas with a full load of 8 rounds. They were both double action because of the modifications Wright had done to the revolvers and now would be easier to operate, only unicorns could use 2 single actions at the same time with ease.

Wright stood on his hindlegs and pointed one of the revolvers down range at one of the paper targets, his aim was terribly wavy and he couldn’t keep his aim on target. BLAM BLAM BLAM, Wright fired off all 3 rounds in his revolver in less than a second but none of the rounds hit, despite the targets being only 20 yards away. The gun owner snickered as Wright brought up the second revolver and attempted this seemingly easy task with extreme difficulty. He tried furiously to steady his aim, BLAM, the round missed terribly and Wright tried to keep his aim steady but couldn’t. Wright lay down the second revolver and brought up his second hoof to steady his aim further.

BLAM, the round hit the shoulder of the paper target and the target spun, however when it stopped spinning it stayed so the paper target was not clearly visible and was not facing towards them. Wright tried for the near impossible, to shoot the target when it was facing sideways rather than towards him. He again rested his left hoof underneath the revolver’s grip and steadied his aim, he could barely even depict where the target was let alone keep his aim steady enough to hit it. Memories flashed through his mind of when the Flim and Flam brothers laughed at him and took the deed to his property. He snarled and squeezed the trigger, BLAM. The round picked up some dirt in the pile used to stop stray rounds and the gun owner snickered.

Wright turned to him and laughed. The gun owner got a strange look to his face “what’s so funny?” the owner asked and Wright gave the floor boards a little tap with his hindleg and the vibrations reached the target. Suddenly the target tipped in half and the top half fell off the bottom half, Wright had hit the target, despite it being an extremely difficult shot and the gun owners jaw simply gapped in peer astonishment.