A navy blue colt with a disheveled black mane scanned the final bend leading to his home. Convinced that the area was clear, he cycled from his hiding place. Things were lucky for Skidder on this snowy night. If he kept his stealthy streak going, he might slip by unnoticed. He might not have to face.... her.

Skidder spots his house, twenty or thirty away, and happily pedals to the finish. He was so close, so close to a night without harassment! This would have certainly completed his day; he received an A+ on all his tests, played at the arcade with Featherweight, and finally, he used his bits that he was saving all summer to buy a shiny, new, red bike! Of course, his perfect day was shattered as Skidder saw what awaited him at his home's door. The visitor spotted Skidder and smirked with satisfaction.

There was no point in hiding now. Skidder grumpily pedaled his bike to the front door and addressed the visitor with downcast eyes, "Hey, Princess Celestia..."

The Princess in question was standing on her hindlegs, and leaning on the house with her forelegs crossed. She regards Skidder with a motherly tone, "Why, hello little Skidder! What brings you here?"

"It's my house..." Skidder mumbles whilst avoiding eye contact.

Princess Celestia chuckled, "I would imagine so, my little pony. What I mean is," her voice suddenly assumes a gruff note, akin to a 70s era Greaser gang, "what brings you here, squirming like a pathetic worm trying to escape an unstoppable predator? You think you could hide from me?" Celestia's horn briefly glows, grabbing Skidder's bike in a golden veil, before sharply pulling it out from under him.

Skidder falls and hits the dirt road on his back, sending starbursts swimming through his vision as his brain recoiled from the rattle. Princess Celestia picks the disoriented colt up in a grip of magic, and proceeds to shake him down, quite literally. "How many bits you got for me today?"

"N-n-none!" Skidder stammered as the Princess shook him from side to side. She probably could have grabbed his saddlebags and looked for colt-cash efficiently, but this was much more fun. "Y-you already t-t-took it all!"

It was at this time, that a photo slipped from the confines of Skidder's Daring Do saddlebag. Celestia grabs the photo with a separate curtain of magic, while she was still shaking Skidder of course. The photo held a picture of a yellow filly with a deep-red mane, tied in a pink bow, standing in front of the schoolhouse next to Skidder. The both of them were grinning widely.

Celestia spits on the ground, "I've seen better." and promptly tucks the photo into her voluminous, ethereal tail.

Skidder snorts in contempt as she finally releases her hold on him. "Fine! Take it! Will you leave me alone now?"

"I still don't have my bits, Skidmark." she plainly states.

Skidder sighs and rolls his eyes, "I already told you that you took it all!"

Celestia nods understandingly, "Alright, then I guess..." but she snatches Skidder's brand new bike in her magic, much to his horror, "...that this'll have to do." Celestia takes the handles in her two front hooves, places herself on the seat, and begins to pedal around the stricken colt in circles. The bike, however, was made for colts of Skidder's size, so it was quite small. This meant that the tall alicorn was seated in a very hunched and uncomfortable position with her head hanging far past the front wheel. While this sight would have been utterly hilarious in any other situation, it was an absolute nightmare for Skidder. He had spent ages hoarding the few bits that he earned to get that bicycle!

"Please!" Skidder pleads, "I used up all the bits I had on that bike!"

Celestia abruptly stops, and shoots him a menacing leer, "Wanna scrap about it...?"

Skidder immediately cringes, attempting to avoid the princess's glare. "N...no... just take it."

"That's what I thought. See you around, Skidmark!" With those final words, Princess Celestia swiftly cycles out of sight to who knows where.

Skidder suddenly calls out to the riding Princess, "You can fly, you don't even NEED a bike!" then he was graced by the sight of the alicorn cycling towards Canterlot in the sky, flapping her wings as she pedaled.

Skidder sighs again, this time, in grim acceptance. He turned back to his house, opened the front door, and dragged his hooves to his room upstairs. His father had already fallen asleep, his strenuous work schedule requiring him to do so in order to wake up in the early hours.

Skidder slung himself onto his plain bed, bedecked in only a simply blue comforter and a single pillow. The colt glazed himself into slumber, as the thoughts of future altercations only quickened his somber slumber.

Skidder awoke the next morning to the ring of an alarm clock with a feeling that he had grown familiar with: reluctance and resentment. He squirmed out of the comforter, and onto the hardwood floor. He groggily marched himself to the bathroom to accomplish the duties that his self-hygiene demanded.

After a thorough brush and a quick shower, Skidder made his refreshed trot downstairs, beckoned by the sweet scent of breakfast. Skidder stepped into the kitchen to see that his father was stationed at the stove, nearly done producing the morning victuals that gave Skidder the will to drag himself further.

His father was a lanky unicorn stallion with a charcoal coat and white mane. His tail and mane's style looked similar to his offspring's: medium in length and disheveled in appearance. His cutie mark was a precision knife crossed over a chisel, and he was aptly name was Cutter. Cutter was a sculptor, who worked well with hewing large rocky structures into detailed pieces of art. Unfortunately, Cutter is what is known as, a starving artist. He did not procure much artistic work, despite his amazing talent, and he was mainly hired for clearing trees or simple construction work. Although Cutter did not care for artistic work right now, so he did not look for it anyways. Cutter did not make much in Ponyville, but he was happy. After all, he had a son to make it all worthwhile, and that is all he wanted for Hearth's Warming Eve.

"Mornin', Dad..." Skidder mumbled as he took a chair at the table. A plate had already been set, along with a glass of milk. Cutter floated the sizzling skillet in the hold of his soft gray magic, walked to Skidder's plate, and deposited a serving of steaming hash browns.

"What's up Skids'?" Cutter asked in a gentle and concerned voice.

Skidder groaned as he recalled last night's events. "You know what."

Cutter grimaces, "Skids'... this again?"

Skidder blankly glances at his father, "I'm telling the truth, Dad. Princess Celestia was bullying me... again."

Cutter sighs, "Just eat your breakfast, son. I'm sure that the kind ruler of Equestria wouldn't single you out, a colt in Ponyville, for random harassment. I'm getting tired of hearing this..."

"It's different this time," Skidder protests with rising volume, "she stole my bike!"

Cutter freezes at the crime's mention, "Someone stole your bike?!"

Skidder nods furiously, "Yes! So do—"

"I'll put up a notice at the mayor's office," Cutter cuts in as he proceeds to clean the skillet in the sink, "crime doesn't happen too often here, so it should turn up soon if we look for it. Don't worry, we'll find your bike as soon as possible."

Skidder opened his mouth to argue, but decided against it, and focused on demolishing the hash browns before him. As he munched, he thought of his situation, causing more thoughts of hatred to arise. It was a directionless hatred now. It had a focal point earlier in his life, but the anger slowly infected everything he saw.

He was not always so hateful, he was actually quite the happy colt at a time in his life. The harsh feelings he had now were probably begotten by the events in his earlier years.

Namely, the death of his mother. She had perished protecting a lost filly from a massive avalanche while on a walk with Skidder and Cutter. Horribly enough, it was Hearth's Warming Eve.

The sudden demise had robbed Cutter of his passion for sculpting, and left Skidder with a dismal relic that evolved into latent rancor. Skidder's constant smile was gone, replaced with a tired expression of reluctant compliance. This is not to say he never grinned, it is just that the smiles were much harder to extract than before, even for the town's party mare, Pinkie Pie. Cutter, on the other hand, eventually took the passing with peace, but still had little desire to practice his art. Cutter always assumed a happy face, but it was hard to tell if it was forced or not. Perhaps he did it for his son, hoping that the disposition would rub off on him. So far, it seems that it has not.

Skidder finished his breakfast with a long gulp of milk, and grabbed his Daring Do saddlebag lying on top of the table. He deftly latched it on with a swing of his neck, and calls to Cutter, "Dad, I'm going to school now! And Is it alright if I hang out with Featherweight afterwards?"

"It's fine," Cutter complies, "just don't stay out too long!"

Skidder briskly trots out the door, and heads for the Ponyville Schoolhouse. The sun shines brightly through a thin layer of clouds, giving his back a respite from the chill and liquefying a small layer of frost on Ponyville's grass. As Skidder ambled along the road to the schoolhouse, he noticed the other schoolfoals enjoying the brief appearance of the sun. It may have been a symbol of warmth and love to everypony else, but to him, it was only a memento of the royal pain in his plot. Then an irksome voice reminded him of another pain in his plot.

"Hey, Blank-Flank! Why so down in the dumps?" This voice belonged to—surprise-surprise—the ever irritable Diamond Tiara, flanked by her henchfilly, Silver Spoon.

The two fillies surround him in a quick pincer movement, and give him a jostle, "Aren't you gonna say anything?" Silver Spoon asks, slightly annoyed by his lack of a reaction.

Over the years he has been here in Ponyville, he has learned that the best way to withstand the dastardly duo, was to act is if he were a stone. Giving no response tended to irritate them, much to Skidder's pleasure. Skidder did not even care that he had no cutie mark, it would come when it comes. However, there was one thing that he just could not ignore.

Diamond Tiara sneers, and leans in close, "Why don't you tell some more fibs about the Princess?"

Skidder stops in his tracks, and yells. "It's not a lie! She even stole my bike last night!"

The two freeze upon his exclamation, and burst into a fit of laughter. "Bwahahahahaha!"

Diamond Tiara reins her giggling to loose a quip, "Why would she even want your bike? She can fly, remember?"

"Yeah, you can come up with a better lie than that, can't you?" Silver Spoon agrees while chuckling.

The two laugh again, then proceed to execute their horribly cringe-worthy hoofshake before dashing ahead. "Bump, bump, sugar-lump, rump!"

Skidder scowls, growls, and shouts an ultimatum to the skies, garnering much attention from the surrounding foals, "CELESTIA, YOU THIEVING HAG, THIS STOPS NOW!!!!!!!!"

Author's Notes:

Yup, second story. I thought I wasn't gonna make another one, buuuut then a contest in one of the groups i partake in came up for a festive story. Sooo yeah.