Ah, well. I did get some island-appropriate weapons I wanted to try, but I'm afraid you're not going to leave me anypony.

[Celestia resigns herself to cleanup duty -- as bodies go flying like bowling pins, she catches them with her magic, then lays them all in a line down the bar. A quick patch-up spell for each one ought to keep them from perishing of blood loss.]

[Zoro might have a harder time when a grizzed drifter bursts through the doors with a pair of sawed-off shotguns blazing. Slightly harder to deflect a load of shot, isn't it?]