(Disclaimer: This story contains depictions of pseudo-swearing, mentions of hardship, and unfunny cringe attempts at humor throughout.)
"What troubles you enough to bring you here?", Sunday asked the man sitting in the other part of the confession booth. A flick of a lighter is heard and then the scent of nicotine flooded the cramped space they both sat in. This left him speechless at first, then he exclaimed: "...Y-You cannot smoke in here, my child!" A gruff voice proceeded to say, "Eh, it's fine. I can do whatever I need here.", in response.
Coughing on the horrible smell of the smoke, Sunday leaned closer to the barrier in between the two of them that obscured the man's face on the other side, trying to ignore all the red flags of the situation. "I see… Then what troubles you?", he asked, "Do you need to talk about your sins? I'm here to provide guidance to those who need it…" After a moment, the man on the other side spoke up. "Let's see… I stole candy from a baby, then threw the baby in the river. And I killed a few people, I guess.", he stated neutrally, despite the atrocities of his actions. Sunday audibly gasped and was stunned by how terrible what was said really was. This was by far the worst person that ever came into his confession booth, but his position as a Bronze Melodia for the Oak Family prevented him from lashing out and punishing him, even though he was extremely angered internally.
Suppressing his rage, he maintained his mask of stoicism and asked him: "Then, why… come here to me, of all places?" The man puffed on his cigarette once more and said, "I dunno. I was bored and wanted to see just how stuck up this place really was.", in reply. Sunday was so stunned by this answer that he remained silent for a full ten seconds. "Forget it, I'm gettin' bored of this anyway.", the man said in a frustrated tone, "I'll be taking my leave now. See ya never, sucker!" The sound of him standing up and a pair of feet stepping towards the door before proceeding to open it nonchalantly is heard, then silence takes his place. All Sunday could do was stay quiet, unable to process what was happening. Even his halo froze in place as the interaction came to an abrupt end.
Once a little while passed, Sunday snapped out of his morally-confused daze and turned his attention back to his duties. "Next person, come in.", he said. What seemed to be a moment of hesitation followed before a very heavy set of footsteps was heard. They rang out like metal and the weight of each shifting step suggested the person was wearing old-fashioned boots. The mysterious person entered the booth and shut the door swiftly. And then a loud and subtly robotic grunt is heard as the person sits down next to the barrier where Sunday listened on with confusion and intrigue.
The other person didn't speak up first, so Sunday stated, "What troubles you enough to bring you here?", in a rehearsed manner. A long sigh is heard by the other person, who eventually mutters out: "Well partner, I guess you could say that I need some guidance on what's goin' on in my life." Despite the odd way the man on the other side spoke, Sunday was relieved to see that he was not as crazy as the previous man. "You've come to the right place.", he assured, "Guiding people through their sins is my duty as part of The Family."
The man on the other side seemed to sit up straighter, becoming more attentive to his wishes being heard. "That so? Well, fudge me sideways! I appreciate your hospitality towards a muddle fudger like me! Name's Boothill.", he said with relief in his voice. This odd way of speaking and the vulgarity put off Sunday and made him internally reconsider his previous impression of Boothill, but he suppressed it and continued through his confession routine. "No need for thanks. The Harmony welcomes all.", he replied, "Now, what sins do you wish to tell me about?"
Boothill seemed to adjust his hat before continuing with: "Hm, ya see… I'm a Galaxy Ranger and I'm on a quest of what ya could call… vengeance. I wanna make those IPC shirt bags pay for what they did to me and my home… And since this place's not aligned with the IPC due to its troubled history, I thought you Family fudgers could give me some insight on how to handle this… darn rage I feel against those blastards and what I can do to successfully take 'em down!" This anger-laden rant surprised Sunday with how loaded it was, which made him feel a mixture of pity and anxiety towards how he should address it. He didn't approve of the Galaxy Ranger's way of doing things or vengeance, but he could tell that Boothill was suffering deep down. Sunday took a deep breath and responded with, "While I cannot condone vengeance or violence against your enemies, your anger is valid and I suggest that you restrain it and use compassion to make peace with it.", in a diplomatic way.
An ear-shattering silence followed before the intense sound of a gun being loaded could be heard. A cock then rang out, along with Boothill yelling: "You should know that's not the Galaxy Ranger way…! Your so-called guidance goes against what I was aimin' for to being with! This gun right here has bullets reserved for the IPC's top brass, and I've no intention of changin' that! If compassion worked, my family wouldn't be dead…! There's no peace for me anymore… And if ya can't get that through your fudgin' skull, then you dumb Family members are all just sons of nice ladies! Your Harmony's so gosh darned useless in the face of us common folk's sufferin' while you rich scum sit in your comfortable dreamscapes." Upon the hateful monologue subsiding, heavy and distressed breathing could be heard from Boothill, showing just how deeply ingrained his trauma is in his beliefs.
This struck a nerve with Sunday, whose ear wings were very stiff from the tension. And it unearthed his deeply buried ideology towards people's suffering… "How disorderly! You Galaxy Rangers' way of solving problems only creates more chaos. Compassion is a virtue, not mindless revenge against those who are larger than yourself…", he said while dropping his usually calm tone, "And don't label all of us Family members as overly privileged fools who don't do anything. For example, I spent all my life learning about others' suffering and what I could do to address it. Even the followers of Xipe are all about the strong protecting the weak, and we work hard to provide sweet dreams for all! In fact, it's my goal to make sure no one ever suffers aga-!" His self-righteous monologue was brutally interrupted by Boothill saying, "Quit yer yappin', partner! I've had enough with your muddle fudgin' hypocrisy! I should've known that the Family wouldn't be any help to someone like myself. And like always, you folks never actually solve anyone's problems directly…", in a mocking tone.
"That's not true! In the future, I plan to save the suffering and make sure they are always protected in this sweet dream. Most might not care enough to, but I do. And I swear upon my name, that I won't give up on my ideals, even if you don't believe me…", Sunday said back. Uninterested in his savior complex, Boothill stood up and prepared to exit the confession booth out of frustration. Before he did so however, he turned back to stare at the little barrier between him and Sunday, and even though he couldn't see his face, he still could sense the general mood of him. "I've heard enough. I know where this is goin'... And that's my cue to leave.", he coldly said, "Oh, and lemme give ya one piece of advice before I set off, pardner… Never let your beliefs hurt innocent people. It might sound strange comin' from a fudgepack like me, but I know from experience how ya can hurt others if ya go too far… So, just keep that in mind. Well, I'm off on my mission! See ya 'round, maybe!" And with that, Boothill exited the booth just as fast as he came into it.
Sunday sat on his side of the confession booth, stunned once more by yet another strange visitor. It was rare that he was left silent by another's words, but for some reason, Boothill's advice stuck in his mind. However, once he thought about all the suffering in his world, the words were drowned out by Mr. Gopher Wood's ideology about Order. He clenched his hands and remarked: "Perhaps that vulgar criminal is right, innocent people shouldn't suffer… Though I can't lose sight of my goals. No matter what happens or what anyone else says, I'll make sure the Order comes to fruition!" The last thought that came into his mind before he resumed his Bronze Melodia duties and the next person entered the booth was that he would make sure Robin wouldn't suffer no matter what, even at the cost of his own wellbeing, remembering their promise with the Charmony Dove…
[Writer's Commentary: So, this is some weird idea about how Sunday and Boothill would interact if they were in this strange setting together, since they never really talked to each other in the actual game. The opening part with the unnamed visitor was inspired by a funny scene from a certain movie (I'll let the readers find out which one it is). It was hard to get both characters' personalities down, and I hope they're not too out of character. Also, this turned out way more serious than I initially intended with a humorous tone, so I hope it doesn't feel off and create tonal whiplash… I feel like Boothill snaps and becomes too sympathetic too quickly at the end, but maybe that's just me. And while this was made as a gift for someone in a Christmas event in this network I'm in, I still enjoyed making it and I hope you liked it! Well, that's about it, enjoy!]
