by Kipper Thu Aug 16, 2012 3:42 am
“T-Thanks, Kipper...” Tesla said, bleeding all over the floor. “I owe you one.”
“Not problemical,” Kipper replied with a satisfied grin, spinning his .357 about its trigger guard, only for the pistol to liberate itself from his finger, twirl through the air and into a wall. He winced and ducked his head, but it fortunately didn’t discharge. He knelt to retrieve the escaped firearm and paused as he caught a glimpse of Tesla’s leg. A stream of blood had soaked a nauseous, ruddy brown path through the pony’s green fur.
“Can we hurry this up and get what we need?” the as-of-yet unnamed song pony whined, giving everyone else some kind of... puppy dog... look. “Cause at this rate, one of us will end up loosing a limb or dead!”
As possibly psychotic as the song pony might or might not be, he did raise a salient point – the brushes with death and/or maiming had been distressingly high thus far, regardless of how awesome Kipper apparently was at slaughtering huge ants.
He nodded in passive agreement, sliding two rounds into his revolver’s emptied chambers and then holstering it. He slowly drew his machete, walking to the door the ballistically lobotomised ant had stumbled through. “Ponies, please for watching my back.”