Author's Notes:

Oh my god! You know this had to be done! Come on, we’re in the fucking west for Christ’s sake!

This idea was just one of those random pop ups that I knew I just had to do before the day was done. I’m not sure what else is to be said here; it literally just popped up and I was like, ‘It must be done!’. And to add to the sheer amount of awesomeness that will be commencing soon, here is the theme song for today’s deleted scene!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AFa1-kciCb4

Connor held his eye contact with Patch for a few more seconds with only a single eye twitch before turning around to leave him and the paramedics behind. He was done dealing with this douche bag. he scoffed at himself; why did he throw away that hat and try acting like the bigger man? He should have kept the damn thing for himself and kicked dirt in his face. Whatever; it’s over now and he had better things to do.

“Hey!!”

Connor paused and peered over his shoulder at the one who was calling to him. Sour Patch was picking himself off the floor and growling like a butt-hurt kid who just got his ass kicked and wanted revenge.

“Yeah? What do you want?” Connor furrowed his brow.

“That match was bullshit an’ you know it! You went outside ‘f bounds so you should’ve been disqualified on the spot! Plus, you almost killed me with that dumbass stunt back there with almost flying into a cliff!”

“You’re just mad that you got your ass handed to you and can’t handle the fact that I’m better than you.” Connor turned back to leave him in the dust. “See you later, fucker!”

Sour Patch shook with the fury of being beaten down for so long, he wouldn't stand to take another second of it! He ground his teeth and spat, “I challenge you to a duel!”

Connor froze in place. “A duel, you say?” he glanced over his shoulder again and narrowed his eyes dangerously.

“Yeah! A duel!” Sour Patch practically screamed, “Old Appleloosan style! Two six-shooters, ten paces, loser gets pied!”

“Pied?” Connor thought. Never mind that; this was a man’s challenge right now and he had to accept it. And besides, he was getting another opportunity to rid this world of some stupid; or at least humiliate it even more!

“Alright,” Connor turned around and faced his nemesis, “I accept.”

Sour Patch gave a devilish grin. This city boy had no idea what he was getting into. He was one of the best shots in town; no way was he going to lose this! Sour Patch was going to put a bullet between this kid’s eyes! He pulled out a bandolier of rounds with two pie revolvers attached to the hips from behind his back and slung it around his waist. Connor cocked an eyebrow, but let it go as he knew where to get his own set of pistols.

“Hey Pinkie! I need to borrow your set of pie revolvers!”

“Sure thing!” Pinkie, along with the rest of the gang who were standing off to the side, pulled out a black and red bandolier with its own set of matching six shooters in their holsters. She tossed it to Connor who caught it without even looking and slung it around his waist. Pinkie was bouncing with anticipation while the rest of the group was looking confused.

“What are we all doing here?” Twilight asked.

“Weren’t we all just in the stands just a moment ago?” Applejack added.

“Don’t worry about it~!” Pinkie sang as she stuffed her face with popcorn.

Sour Patch and Connor glared at each other, already their ten paces apart, waiting for one to make the first move. Their hooves twitched and scratched nervously at the ground as the silent argument for dominance raged between each other’s glare. Connor swallowed the saliva in his mouth not breaking eye contact from Sour Patch. Sour Patch tipped his brim of his hat forward until he could only see Connor at the top of his glare. The air was tense with the grim reaper pony slowly circling overhead hoping to claim a life today.

“Almost ready…” Connor mused.

“Any minute…” Sour Patch sweated.

There was just a moment of pause between the two and then…

“NOW!”
“NOW!”

Quick as lightning, the two gun duelers drew their revolvers and opened fired! Dust kicked up from the blasts of their barrels as almost a dozen shots went off! There was a scream from the bystanders on the ground and cries of terror and horror from the spectators still on the cliff edges. A murmur of anxiety and fear swept through the crowds as they all waited for the dust to settle and see who the victor was in today’s death battle.

They waited a second, then ten; finally, a breeze blew by scattering the dust to the wind to reveal the bodies. Screams and yells of outcry (along with a few fainting ponies) erupted from everypony as the dust revealed Connor still standing, leaning to one angle, and both of his guns drawn while Sour Patch laid on his back peppered with pie splatter marks.

Connor glared over his gunsights letting the smoke trail upwards from his barrels for a few more seconds before he righted himself and holstered his six shooters. He touched the brow of his new cowboy hat resting on his head and tipped it down over his eyes. He looked up, though, when he heard coughing from the dead body about ten paces from him. Connor walked over to the body of Sour Patch who was now sitting up with even more dirt covering his face and pie marks covering his chest.

“Uuughh,” he groaned wiping the pie from his chest to reveal a perfectly healthy torso. He glanced up again at Connor for the second time. But instead of having a look of hate and resentment, his eyes held defeat and acceptance. Another silent conversation passed between the two fighters at a million miles per second as the two understood what had to happen next.

“Sorry partner,” Connor said with his new country drawl.

He pulled out on of his revolvers and emptied the cylinder of spent pie rounds and pulled out a single metal round and loaded it into the camber. The cylinder gave a soft click and a whirl as he prepared the final shot of the day.

Sour Patch stared up at the pistol being loaded with his death sentence and sighed. Rules were rules after all and the grim reaper pony had to claim at least one life from every duel. The pistol was finally loaded and he stared up into the barrel of his executioner. The soft ratcheting sound of the hammer being pulled back on the gun told him of his final moments in this world.

“Sorry partner,” Connor said again, “But you lose.”

Before he heard the final bang, Sour Patch whispered out, “I know.”