The wind was blowing through my hair as I watched the duel begin to play out. One of the duelists looked petrified, and I thought: is this his first duel? I watch with the group, quietly. They count to 10. Lafoot muttered some stuff in French. I stared at him as he scowled. The men turn and walk 10 paces. "Shoot 'em good!" Merrylan cheers. They both turn around, "BAM", the petrified one had his gun in the air, as the other had just pulled the trigger. His gun falls to the ground, as does he. Lafoot yells some more stuff in French, "Obtenez cet homme un docteur! Il est mortellement blessé!". His doctor runs to him and panics. "Who is that guy?" I look at the victor. "You don't know?" An onlooker starts, "That's George Beaker. He duels so often and he's never lost." Beaker faces me, "Well, if it isn't Baconton!" He exclaims. "What do you want?" I step forward. "Jeggerson wanted to talk to you." He scoffs. "Jeggerson? ...Why?" "That's all he said." He looks at his victim. "Be careful, or you'll be in his shoes one day." He walks down the street. "...Jeggerson..."