Because Blackjack is stupid and is not my favorite pony)  
I remember that someone wanted to see her ass riddled with bullets. Well… now you can. I guess. Enjoy.
 

 
Glory: Blackjack, of course it was very noble of you to rush ahead and puff your rump out in front of a turret so that we could run past it without catching bullets and deactivate the security systems but…  
BJ: Yeouch!  
Glory: …it was a little bit unnecessary. P-21 had a few impulse granades with him and he could do the same thing without you getting hurt.  
P-21: Yep, I could.  
BJ: Well, what do you want? I’m a stupid pony, ya know. Ouch!  
Glory: This is NOT an excuse! One day you’re going to kill yourself if you continue living like that!  
BJ: Ouch! Who knows, who knows…  
Glory: I DO! And I’m pretty sure it CAN happen! And PLEASE stop fidgeting! I’m trying to put stitches on your wounds!  
BJ: Hey! What can I do if my shot rump hurts like Tartarus!  
Glory: Still… thanks. I’m in debt with you. Again. Not even sure which time it is.  
BJ: Yeouch! No problem, Glory. I’m just trying to be better. Do it better. Ouch! Damn! It really hurts…  
P-21: To learn how to better catch bullets with your ass, I suppose?  
Glory: P-21!  
P-21: What? I noticed she does it better now!  
BJ: Then when? You mean, since I caught the first bullet in my ass from you when we left Stable 99?  
P-21: Well… ehm… Yeah, I think that was me. He-he.  
BJ: Glad you still remember it. Yeouch!  
P-21: So… (looking at the screwdriver in Glory’s right wing which turned out to be a better surgical instrument in this case than scalpels) Like being screwed?  
Glory: P-21!  
P-21: What! It was a joke!  
BJ: Ha. Ha. Ha… Ouch!  
P-21: Wait, here comes the secong one! Blackjack is riddled about how her butt became riddled! Ha-ha-ha! (looking at frowned Glory) What? This one was a funny joke!  
Glory: Yeah… surely… only till YOU get shot in your own buttocks. You know, P-21, this medical screen stands there for a reason!  
BJ: Yeouch! Well, that joke was kinda fun actually…  
P-21: I could also joke that it has probably become that time of the month again judging by the blood that… (notices that Glory started frowning at him much more) No! I… I… I didn’t mean you, Glory! I… well… You know, Blackjack is a mare and… Oh… No, I wasn’t saying that you’re not a mare… oh! (starts blushing) well… ehem, I think I… I just… he-he! I think I have some work to do! Yeah! Right now! Gonna go!  
Glory: (sighs) Sometimes P-21 behaves like a complete jerk.  
BJ: Yeah. Sometimes. I don’t think… Yeouch! … that we should blame him for that. Don’t forget how he was treated back in 99.  
Glory: Yes. I suppose you’re right.  
BJ: At least sometimes I can be right, huh? Ouch! Hey! Carefully, please!  
Glory: Blackjack, I’ve made a painkiller injection and I even allowed you to drink whiskey during the operation as an extra analgetic! And for your information, I’m doing it very carefully!  
BJ: My ass hurts! Okay, give me that! (grabs screwdriver from Glory’s wings and levitates it wuth magic) Okay. Slowly. But surely. First we need to find the damn bullet… Let’s image that my buttocks are buns with raisins. And I hate raisins, so I have to pick out every. Single. One. Yes, here’s the bullet… Now slowly… trying to… pick it up. Ouch! C’mon! Get… out of there! Come on! Ouch! Here we go. Phew! Minus one. Should’ve done it on my own since the beggining. So… how many are left?  
Glory: Three more.  
BJ: You’re gonna be kidding me! Still a butt that looks like a sieve is a sexy butt, right? The only drawback is that I won’t be able to sit for a week…