Don’t You Let That Duel Go Down

by thoughtsonthedead

“Sir, you have insulted my honor; I demand satisfaction. Pistols at dawn.”

“No, sir. Pistols it shall be, but what about ten or eleven? Pistols at noon would be perfect for me.”

“No. Pistols at dawn. That’s when you have pistols.”

“We’re grown-ups. We can decide when to have pistols.”

“It’s tradition: pistols at dawn.”

“The sun will be in someone’s eyes!”

“We’ll stand north-to-south.”

“Oh, great: now there are compasses involved.”

“Shall you give me my satisfaction, or are you a coward, sir?”

“See, I don’t believe this is a binary-type situation. We can shoot each other. I’m just saying let’s not die tired. Why don’t we make an afternoon out of it?”

“Since the dawn of the pistol duel, sir, they have been held at dawn. This is the code of the gentleman, which you claim to be.”

“Gotta be pistols at dawn?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Swords at dusk.”

“No, sir.”

“Waterguns full of piss at lunch?”

“No, sir.”

“Lightsabers at midnight?”

“You try my patience, sir! Shall you give me my satisfaction?”


“You satisfied, jackass?”

“You shot me!”

“You were going to shoot me.”


“And I was going to sleep in tomorrow. I wanted my thing more.”