Dark Events in Equestria

The blinds were closed except for a thin ray of light that shined through an opening. Dust blew in between the light, which shinned all the way to a chair in the middle of the room. In the chair was a tied-up and bloody stallion who was breathing heavily.

“Please,” he said, “please let me go.”

The ponies that were around him were wearing bandanas and cowpony hats. Bandoleers and belts crossed along their bodies; all except for one colt. He wore an old ripped bandana sainted in splatters of blood around his neck. He had a deep scar across his left eye. His bandoleers contained dynamite instead of bullets and wore hoof cups riddled with spikes so if he were to kick a pony would inflict serious injuries. He spoke in a Spanish accent.

“I am afraid I can’t do dat Señor Collinsfoal, for you see my employer, he wants something you have. Please comply quickly, my employer, he is not a patient pony”

Mr. Collinsfoal began to cry, “please it’s my lively hood, what will I do with out it.”

The pony with the scared went close to the poor stallion’s face and looked him in the eyes.

“I do not give a damn, just sign the paper, and this will all be over.”

One of the other ponies lit a cigarette and blew the smoke into Mr. Collinsfoal’s face.

“HEY!!!,” The pony with the scar yelled, “give me that fucking thing, no fucking smoking here, you are being rude to our guest.”

He grabbed the cigarette from the ponies mouth and pushed it into the stallion’s open wound across his check.

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!” the stallion screamed in agony. “Please stop please, I sign the papers please you can have my land, just let me go.”

Mr. Collinfoal signed the deed to his homestead apple orchards.

The scared pony smiled and said, “Muy bien mi amigo, thank you so much very much. Wait here for a minute I need to talk to my employer.”

The scared pony trotted towards the door, where a large, grey donkey in a sombrero held a shotgun and stood guard. He moved aside to the pony with the scar through into a very fancy office with fine carpets and curtains. Oil portraits of ponies hung from the wall there was a 1860 military pony with a musket fixed with a bayonet, a countess mare dressed in a white dress, an a contemporary stallion in a white suit. Above the grand fire place was a griffon’s head mounted onto a gold plate. The scared pony trotted up in front of a large finely crafted desk. On the other side sat a pony in a fine white suit with a cow skull bolo made of ivory. He also had a white silk lined cowpony hat. He sat in his leather chair with his back turned to the scared pony. He was smoking a cigar and looking across an apple orchard outside his window.

“He sighed it Jefe, now what?” asked the scared pony.

The pony in white blew out a large cloud of smoke and said, “make sure our new business partner is taken care of, and by that I mean kill him.”
The scared pony smiled and walked back to the other room. Both rooms were so quiet that only hoof-steps were heard for a brief second…POW… Then the sound of a match that struck on a hard surface, then…Wooshhh….. Mr. Collinfoal was on fire.