Big Mac was having a glorious day, basking in the warm light of the sun on his way to town. Were he a complete buffoon, he’d give Celestia the credit for such a beautiful morning. He remembered a good example of said “buffoon” when he was on barracks duty at his first duty station after graduating from the School of Infantry. His duty NCO (some dumbshit boot corporal) wanted to argue that the Royal Sisters had literal control of the Sun and Moon. (I couldn’t believe he was serious.) Of course, Corporal Fuckwit couldn’t explain why the moon still appeared at night after Nightmare Moon’s banishment (which only lasted 200 years..not 1000) or why Equestria didn’t have complete control of all the known world by having absolute power over the heavens.

The Royal Sisters had never even proclaimed to be divine beings or any such nonsense. Idiot. He probably thought those “professional wrestler” ponies weren’t acting, too. They always just got reeaaal lucky, never receiving so much as a single concussion, broken bone, or bruise. It was all show and no substance; the antithesis to Mac's personal philosophy. Those roided up brutes were nowhere near as tough or strong as they behaved and looked. Mac had little respect for bodybuilders like that one overinflated, white Pegasus with damn near vestigial wings. It was all aesthetic. Mac only cared about strength and fitness. It was much more practical in everyday use, and he didn't have to endure the consequence of looking like a bulging, veiny freak. (It’s still hilarious to watch ‘em pretend to fight at the Manehattan Square Gardens. Can’t afford them ticket prices, though.) He was getting off topic...what was his original topic again? He remembered.

“The whole Sun/Moon dichotomy thing is just symbolic of a separation of power ‘tween the two of ‘em…which is also probably why they don’t call themselves “Queen Celestia” or “Empress Luna.” That’d be a shitstorm ‘cause Princess Luna’s got low self-esteem. I reckon that still don’t make a whole lotta’ sense what with Equestria still bein’ an EMPIRE and all…………wait……who’m I talkin’ to?” He had indeed been talking to himself for no particular reason.

Most of the myths about the two Sisters had been started the Lunar/Solar cults, anyway. Supposedly, the two Alicorn sisters were "divine prophetesses" sent down to Earth by some...nebulously-described god known only as "God." While it was true that First Generation Alicorns lived almost indefinitely (Princess Cadence and Twilight Sparkle are Second Generation.), they weren’t completely immortal or at all impervious to death. Their near-immortal Royal blood was passed down to them from their parents and the first rulers of Equestria’s parent nation of Germaneigh. (King Morgenstern and Queen Nachtstern…Morgenstern’s practically a boogeyman in history after that “Inquisition.”)…back then, what would become modern Equestria was mostly unsettled. Their parents inherently possessed a powerful magic that increased their lifespans to an almost inexhaustible length of time. Celestia and Luna just had that same magic as their parents. They weren’t goddesses or prophetesses, and they’d be the first to admit that in person.

"Well...maybe not "goddesses" in the literal definition...but damn...they sure fit that latter definition." The two princesses were widely considered to be the most beautiful mares in Equestria, albeit some of the attraction/judgment derived itself from their royal power. Even still...objectively speaking, they had to at least be contenders. Big Mac didn't know any single stallions who wouldn't. Even a large number of married stallions still would.

Big Mac barely realized that he’d almost entered the town square. This tended to happen to him a good bit. He often got lost in thought, and sometimes even wandered past his originally intended destination. He could see the humble, little hardware store’s sign slowly rocking in the cool morning breeze. Hardly anypony was out and about on a Sunday morning. (I reckon my ass’d be asleep, too, if I were anypony else.) It was times like this that Big Mac could fully take in just how small the town really was. It’s current population of only 4,000 ponies had always managed to be misleading. The streets and marketplace were flooded by noontime everyday, so Ponyville looked more “bustling” to the uninitiated. Two pretty mares passed by him, prompting him to tip his Stetson and smile in greeting. They returned a giggly greeting and went on their way. (Still got it, boy.) He reached the modest, little hardware shop, turning the door handle. It was locked. And the window blinds were closed.

“How'n the gay hell did I ferget they're always closed on Sunday?! Well, this whole trip was fuckin’ pointless.”

“What was pointless, Big Mac?”, asked a manic, shrill voice from behind. (I know that voice…the "Pink Menace"...the Destroyer of Barns and Eater of Worlds...) He turned around and confirmed his fears.

“Mornin’, Miss Pie…I apologize fer my language.” He begrudgingly tipped his hat to the hyperactive, pink mare who had suddenly taken to hopping up and down in place like a jackrabbit on speed. He wasn’t overly fond of Pinkie, but he had enough sense not to tell her this. He still remembered the incident with Cranky Doodle Donkey. That poor, brave soul…

“Oh, don’t apologize for speaking Equestrian, silly!! It’s our native language! And I'm super sorry about your barn by the way! I had noooooooooo idea the Party Cannon was loaded with an ACTUAL cannon ball! Barns sure are like...all...explodey and stuff!!” It was futile to make any attempt to clarify or respond to her with logic. Her brain simply didn’t function properly like a normal pony’s. She wasn’t stupid, but she had virtually no understanding of social cues, impulse control, or consequence. She didn’t even allow him time to respond before jackhammering his ears with another stream of nonsense.

“But what was pointless? Ooh! Was it a ball?! Balls are like totally round and don’t have points! Is that what it was?! Balls are fun!” He couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly at her last spout of fast-forwarded gibberish.

He had personally born witness to her bizarre habit of amalgamating “ball caches” all around Ponyville. Well…he better tell her he wasn’t referring to a "ball," or she’d probably cause a ball-related catastrophe rivaling or even eclipsing the Mirror Pool incident. After that fiasco, he could no longer associate the word “fun” with anything but fluorescent pink chaos. (Forget the Crusaders. Pinkie’d make a better protégé fer Discord.)

“Eeno-“

“Well, balls are pointless and super round!! Round?! That rhymes with “sound!” Speaking of “sound,” Dashie ‘n me are going to a karaoke bar later tonight!! Wanna’ come with us?!

“I don-“

“Dashie’s a super duper singer! I’m not bad myself, but I sometimes I forget the words and make up my own! This one time, back when I was a filly in junior high, I sang the morning Equestrian National Anthem but changed the line “Oh, Equestria, land of the proud and strong” to “Oh, Equestria, land of the morbidly obese!” I guess I was just thinking about how chubby my homeroom teacher was!! One time, he ate like fourteen donuts just during first period! And he'd had a quadruple bypass a week before!! Now that's what I call "brave!!" I think he was sad or something that his wife left 'im, 'cuz his coffee tasted like scotch! And also coffee! But with scotch in it! Who could've guessed you can put the two together!!? Mr. Hoofmore was a genius!! A bitter, lonely genius with abandonment issues and suppressed egotistical rage, but he was still a genius!! Ohhh...I'll always remember that trip to the principal's office! FUN! Isn’t that just the silliest thing you ever heard?!!”

It most certainly wasn’t the silliest thing he’d ever heard. In fact, it was rather mundane in comparison to Pinkie’s run-of-the-mill mannerisms and idiosyncrasies, let alone any of her greater mad exploits. Were one to ignore the "barn incident", Pinkie would still have an utterly bizarre rap sheet. Not only were half the things she'd done strange as fuck, but they also seemed impossible at times. Pinkie appeared to have the ability to defy the very laws of nature and physics at will. This pointless anecdote was her equivalent of two white-collar ponies chatting about the weather by the water cooler. He knew there was no point in elucidating this, but he decided to at least politely humor her…

“Uhh..that sur-“

“But you should tooootaaalllyyy come get crunk with us tonight!! I don’t know what “crunk” means, though. Dashie says it all the time. Ooh, I hope “crunk” is a kind of cake or something!! Do you think "crunk" is like a mix of the words "crunch" and "chunk?!!" OH, WOW!! I think we just figured it out!! You learn something new everyday!! What do you think, Mackie?! THE WORLD IS SO FULL OF WONDER!!!” Mac recoiled in discomfort, protecting his battered left eardrum with his hoof. And..he had never taken an especial liking to the diminutive form of his name. No matter who used it.

He also knew that it was yet another exercise in futility to even reply to the manic mare, as she’d just likely cut him off again. (And who in the sam hell is “Dashie”?...wait a second…so that's her name…ahhhhh.) “Rainbow Dash.” He had no idea how he’d forgotten the name of such a unique-looking filly. Good. That had been driving him crazy. But as for Pinkie...honestly. If he hadn't known better, he’d be certain that she had a cocaine or meth addiction of some kind. That would actually make a lot more sense than the strange reality that she’d hardly touched anything but sugar and alcohol in her life. (I reckon a strong cup a’ coffee’d send her to the fuckin’ moon...like in that lovely anecdote 'bout her homeroom teacher...) He gave the spastic mare a gentle smile and a nod.

“Awwwwwww! You have super cute smile, Mackie!! But you didn’t answer my question, ya’ big silly! (That’s ‘cause you didn’t specify what the hell you were askin’.)

Big Mac decided to let her repeat her question..(if’n ya’ could even call that gibberish a “question.”) She couldn’t take a hint that he was busy and not interested in hearing drunk ponies butcher already terrible pop songs. Normally, he wasn’t this patient with her, often just walking away from her whilst she was still in mid-sentence. (An’ that don’t even stop her.) But he was having a good day. If he was quiet enough, she’d get bored and bounce off to start a house fire somewhere or something like that. He stared at the pink pony intently, awaiting her clarification. Pinkie Pie stared back at him…wearing an almost ghoulishly cheery grin.

“……………………”

“……………………”

“……………………” (Come on, girl. Do ya’ even remember what we were talkin’ about?)

“……………………” She continued her goofy stare.

“……………………”

“……………………” (Any day now.)

“……………………”

“……………………” She was still grinning. She wasn't even blinking.

“……………………”

“……………………” (ANY FUCKIN' DAY NOW!!!)

“……………………”

“……………………” Her eyes had started to glaze over, and she began rocking back and forth as though her legs would give out soon. Mac was starting to worry.

“Miss Pie? Are you al-“

“WOW, Big Mac!! You sure are quiet! So, did you wanna’ come with us tonight?! (AAAUGGGHHH!!!!) Barely able to contain his fury, Mac sputtered out a shaky reply.

“E-eno-“

“Okay, then!! Some other time, I guess!! BYE!!” She bounced off into the distance as though nothing strange had just transpired, leaving behind a now twitchy-eyed, confused Big Mac. (What...the...fuck...I don't even...What?)

He had never been so glad as when she had decided to stop pretending to be an Apple. (Man, that sounds kinda’ fucked to say, though.) After she had thought her family name appeared in his own family’s genealogy a few months back, she had refused to leave them alone for longer than a day. Though it was unlikely, a part of him had actually been petrified at the slight possibility that they could be related. He had tried to sabotage the trip to Golden Delicious’ cabin to confirm their relation by slowly loading every possible thing he could find onto the wagon in the hope she would get bored and leave. Of course, this all backfired when an enthusiastic Applebloom had helped him load the wagon in record time. He was then forced to grin and bear her hyperactive insanity for the next 12 hours.

He didn’t hate Pinkie Pie, though. Hell, he didn’t even dislike her. (Sometimes she’s downright hysterical.) He just didn’t want her around constantly. She tended to cause aneurysms and property damage in equal abundance when she hung around long enough. But he was always polite with her, seeing as to how she was a close friend of AJ’s. (I’m forgettin’ somethin’. Oh, right.) His recent “conversation” with Pinkie had made him forget his original intent yet again. He took out a notebook and pen from his left saddlebag and started scribbling down an order request for the roof tiles he wanted for the barn. He tore the paper loose and stuck it under the door, leaving the small shop behind. He began the walk back to Sweet Apple Acres.

Twenty minutes later, he had topped the tallest hill of their apple orchards, taking in the view of his family inheritance. The farm hadn’t been doing so well of late. He had kept pristine financial records of all the farm’s revenue and expenditures…and it wasn’t a pretty picture. Every planting season, they needed to take out a big loan with the local bank to pay for all the equipment costs and supplies. Their last planting season, they only had a 3% net profit for that fiscal year after all the taxes and expenditures were subtracted. That wouldn’t be too bad…if they were a massive corporation. But a 3% profit of the 400,000 bits expenditure was only 12,000 bits. Last year's profit had been 15,000. They were losing ground fast.

That was only 12,000 bits to feed a family of four and buy basic necessities. The cost of living increase was getting worse, property taxes were at an all time high, and their home owner’s insurance premium was atrocious. (I done told AJ to only get the fixed premium plan. What we got now is tantamount to highway robbery.) They really needed to refinance their coverage with another company, considering they wouldn’t pay for the last barn destroyed by Pinkie Pie. The insurance company had actually classified Pinkie Pie-related destruction as an “act of God!!” And it certainly hadn't helped that the CMC had damaged the roof to one of their other barns with that homemade trebuchet.

How much would they make this year after having even less money to plant more crops and buy equipment? Those roof tiles alone were going to set them back by at least 500 bits. It was a sinking ship, and it broke his heart to think that he could lose his foalhood home...and his sisters’…and his grandmother’s. The Apples completely owned the land and didn’t have a mortgage to pay (Thank you, Pioneer Amnesty Act.), but what did that matter if they owed the bank for every loan they took out just to meet the local demand? They’d eventually have to sell the land to pay off the loans…otherwise it would all just get appropriated by the bank as a liquidated asset to sell off. (But I ain’t ever sellin’ to those Flim Flam assholes. Damned crooks is what they were.)

What would his father and mother think of him? A stallion who couldn’t provide for his family. But he was getting close to the farmhouse now. He cleared his expression of worry and started down the hill towards the house, noticing three shapes (blue, tan, and purple) standing in front of the porch. He could hear the tan and blue figures arguing with the purple one trying to mediate. (Dash and my sister at it again…Princess Twilight?) As he approached to within hearing distance, the topic in debate became evident…

“-why you can’t sign up with me! You ‘n me could win hands down! We already had our own Iron Pony contest, so we know what the events are like! And this isn’t anything like the Equestria Games, AJ. Those aren’t ‘till next year anyway. Think about it. Either one of us is a shoe-in! We could split the prize money in half!”

“Rainbow, there ain’t no guarantee we’ll win a single bit. In fact, we gotta pay a 300 bit entry fee to even compete. Per pony. An’ how in the hell do ya’ suppose Big Mac’s gonna’ plow, plant, and harvest all by his lonesome in time to meet the buyer’s deadline, huh? We don’t make productivity fer the grocery stores, they go an’ buy from another farm. That’s an entire plantin’ season wasted. No profit, AND we’ll still owe the bank loan!"

Big Mac had a fairly justified suspicion that Rainbow was a little bit immature. He was proud of his sister’s relative maturity for her age. But from what he knew about their financial state, “staying the course” would only delay the inevitable. They needed an additional source of revenue. Fast.

“But you said you guys were having money problems to begin with! It’s a cool million cash prize, dude! (A million bits? Can’t be.) Can’t you hire anypony to come help out with the farm stuff? I know you guys made some money off all that cider.”

“Hell, no, we can’t! Do ya’ know how much it’d cost to hire ‘bout ten ponies to work all the way from plantin’ time to harvest? Even at minimum wage, we can’t afford that. Mac ‘n me can do the work of five ponies each, anyway. An’ all that cider money went straight to our savin’s fer fixin’ the barn after them insurance sumbitches wouldn’t pay fer it. Pinkie Pie ain’t no “act of God!” That was just an excuse not to pay up.”

“Jeez, man. I didn’t know you guys were doin’ so bad right now. But what about Twilight?”

“Yes, Rainbow?” The purple Alicorn’s saddlebags were loaded with various items purchased from in town and the farm.

“Yeah! You remember helping out last cider season? And the last apple bucking? Could ya’ help Big Red out while we train?” (“Big Red”, hmm? That ain’t too bad. Better’n “Mackie.”)

“No way, Rainbow. I can’t ask Twilight to use her princess authority or nothin’ to get us outta’ this jam. Whaddya’ want her to do? Threaten to exile the bank president? Imagine if Celestia found out!”

“That’s not what I meant at all! I meant she could use her magic to help you guys plant and harvest. Jeez…why is it always the worst possible assumption with you?” Mac could see his sister’s right eyebrow raise.

“Gee, I wonder…but even considerin’ all that, we already got most of the plowin’ done. Twilight might be able to help with the harvest, seein’ how it don’t make much sense to try ‘n plant with magic. It’d be like cleanin’ a window with a rock. But I can’t ask a princess to come do manual labor on our account. Or even…uh…magic labor. It ain’t dignified!”

“AJ, I don’t have any aversion whatsoever to manual labor. Especially when one of my friends needs help. But I can’t help you with the harvest this year. I’m sorry.” Big Mac knew the purple bookworm hated being seen as too “royal” or “above it all.” She didn’t quite understand why respecting her title was important just yet.

“Why the hell not!? It’s not like you got anything else to do!” The mauve princess was trying to maintain her bearing after Rainbow’s caustic remark. But Mac could tell it stung a bit.

“Rainbow! That ain’t called fer! What’s gotten into you, girl?!”

“What’d I do?!” The brash Pegasus sincerely didn’t seem to understand the offense.

“I can’t help this season, because I’ll be at the castle next week to help the Princesses with administrative duties and to attend the consortium and some security conferences. I won’t be able to come back to Ponyville until late-August. I’m really sorry, AJ.” Mac knew that latter bit of info wasn’t supposed to be public knowledge.

You don’t just announce “Hey, I’m going to go talk about national secrets and covert military actions!” That’s just asking to get kidnapped. Imagine if the Diamond Dog separatists, the Gryphonic Kingdom, or some bandits got a hold of her! She’d be a tempting target after their discovery that she was a lot more than a simple student of Celestia’s. They’d have the Empire over a barrel. (They wouldn't use no lube, neither.) She was a sweet girl, though. She really cared about her friends.

“It’s okay, Twilight. I know ya’ gotta’ do yer job. It’s a lot more important. You got all of Equestria to look after.”

“Awww…crud. I totally forgot you told me about all that earlier. Sorry, Twilight. I just get mad and say dumb shit like a tool. I didn’t mean to sound like a jerk-off.” Big Mac could barely suppress a chortle. What kind of filly had ever used that vernacular in equine history? (Heheheh…this girl’s somethin’ else, man!)

“It’s alright, Rainbow. You’re strong-willed and impulsive. It’s what makes you unique and special. It’s just who you are. I wouldn’t want you or AJ to change for anything.” Rainbow looked horrified.

"Uhh...you guys aren't gonna' start singing randomly and shit, are ya'?" Twilight and AJ both giggled.

"Heheheh....no, Rainbow. It's just that...I'm going to miss you guys so much..." The princess was starting to tear up.

"We're gonna' miss ya', too, Twi. We'll come visit soon as we can, ya' hear? Don't work yerself to death, girl. You take it easy now."

"Yeah. Like I said back at the library, we can all hit up Canterlot sometime. It's gonna' be cray, dude!" Twilight wiped her eyes and smiled at her friends. Mac felt a female emote-a-thon coming full speed ahead. Too bad he didn’t have a sick bag like on a ship or something. Sure enough, AJ and Twilight had trapped the blue Pegasus in a group hug, cooing an emphatic “aaaawwww” while she tried to wiggle free.

“Ah, dude! Gay.” The tomboyish Pegasus resigned to her fate with an annoyed expression.

By this point, Rainbow’s mannerisms and antics had him snickering incessantly. He could barely believe this girl's behavior. If he had read a written transcript of the three mares’ conversation with no context, he’d have sworn Rainbow’s lines were spoken by a college fraternity colt. He couldn’t help but like the fiery, little thing. He could see that she wasn’t easy to get along with, but she was certainly a unique specimen of her gender. That alone merited at least a simple acquaintance…(right?) By this time, he had noticed that he had been eavesdropping on the three fillies behind a thick bush. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it until he started fighting to suppress his laughter from giving away his position. He felt…creepy. He knew it was likely just his training coming into play, but it was still weird. He decided to head over to his sister and ask about all the fuss.

“Yo, AJ. Since when did your brother have a beard?”, asked the prismatic filly who had just noticed his approach. The rainbow-maned Pegasus squeezed out of the group hug and took to the air, hovering just out of the reach of her two friends.

“Huh? I dunno. He used to have one when he got back from…wherever the military had ‘im. But Apple Bloom hated it, so he shaved it off. Guess he just don’t care now. An’ he’s wearin’ Pa’s hat again? That’s new.”

“Good Afternoon, Big Macintosh. It’s nice seeing you again, but I have to be on my way now. Sorry if I seem rude. I’m already behind schedule on my studies.” Mac bowed his forelegs and head in an austere greeting.

“Good Afternoon, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, no, no! Please don’t bow. You don’t have to abide by all those stuffy formalities on my account. I’m just plain, old Twilight Sparkle here in Ponyville.”

“No, Ma’am. Respect fer the Office ‘n Title. Nothin’ personal.” He could see that Twilight disagreed and wanted to say something…but she sighed in resignation, turning to her friends.

“See you later, girls. And no more fighting, you two! It was nice seeing you again, Big Mac.” He nodded in reply.

“Well, excuuuuussse me, Princess! (What is that? A reference?) You can get back to slowly losing your sanity at the library now. Hehehe…nerd. Seeya’.”

“Take care, Twi.” As the geeky, little Alicorn daintily trotted off, Mac began to ask AJ to fully explain this “Iron Pony” business.

“So, what’s al-“

“So didja’ reconsider, AJ? It’s easy money.” (Can I ever fuckin’ get a word in edgewise ‘round here?!)

“My answer is still “no”, Rainbow. An’ it ain’t easy money at all. Half them events we did in our own Iron Pony contest we just made up. We just started runnin’ outta’ ideas. Who ever hearda’ elite athletes carryin’ baby chicks through some mud bein’ part of a gruelin’, national competition? Dontcha’ 'member ‘bout how cocky botha’ us were in the past? An’ we both got shown up. I was ‘sposed to bring home that rodeo prize money, but I ended up gettin’ every ribbon ‘cept fer the blue. That million bit prize is only fer gold medalists. This whole Iron Pony deal is just another gamble we can’t afford.”

His sister had made some excellent points. Additionally, he was rather surprised to hear her make such humble concessions for the sake of the farm. Normally, AJ was simply too stubborn and proud to admit to something like this. She was almost twenty three years old, though, so he supposed it made sense that she’d be a bit more mature than the younger Pegasus. Mac wasn't sure of Rainbow's exact age, but he'd have to guess that she was likely in the 19-21 year range.

“So what if we don’t win all the events? They add the scores up from the ones we do! We can still make mad bank off the bronze and silver medal prizes. With my speed and your power, we got this thing no problem. C'mon, AJ! You just admitted that you guys were only losing money doin’ what you’re doin’. Sometimes you gotta’ take a risk to make it big.”

Rainbow also made some good points. Even though Rainbow clearly still had a bit of growing up to do, her assessment held considerable weight. They would certainly lose the farm in the long-term were they to simply keep to their current way of doing things. He silently watched the two mares continue their debate. He might as well. It wasn't as though he'd be able to actually contribute anything to the conversation.

“I can’t help ya’, Rainbow.”

“Hold on. What if we hoof wrestle for it? If I win, you have to train and sign up with me. If you win, I’ll help you with the harvest. Deal?”

“You serious, girl? Lost yer mind, huh? Heheh…you can’t beat me in a straight-up hoof wrasslin’ match! But if ya’ wanna’ sign yerself away into indentured servitude like that, then be my guest.”

“Yeah, well I still beat you that one time!”

“That’s only ‘cause you cheated. You put all yer body weight in it, and ya’ started 'fore the bell even rang!” Mac knew this to be true.

She had indeed cheated multiple times during their own “Iron Pony” competition. AJ wasn’t a big pony, but she easily eclipsed the lithe, little Pegasus in size and muscle. And she was one of the strongest mares he had ever known, thanks to years of heavy farm labor. Not to mention that Pegasi had hollow bones and less than half the muscle mass of Earth ponies...on average. Earth ponies were built for power. This wasn’t a smart move for Rainbow.

“Well, I’ll friggin’ beat you right now! Tree stump. Right now. Let’s go. You’re going down.”

The two mares sauntered over to the tree stump where they usually wrestled. Normal fillies talked out their problems or stabbed one another in the back. These two hoof wrestled, screamed obscenities at each other, and got into brawls like stallions…and they were best friends. (Why can’t I ever meet anypony normal?”) As they began the contest, Mac could see that the end result would be nothing at all surprising. Rainbow strained mightily against his sister’s hoof to no avail, as AJ smugly held her grip with seemingly no effort. She even feigned losing her position once just to humiliate her. (Now that’s just mean, AJ.) After AJ tired of the futile display, she slammed Rainbow’s foreleg into the stump with an audible Whump! The defeated Pegasus began massaging her battered hoof, her cheeks burning red with embarrassment.

“Look’s like yer helpin’ us with the harvest this year, missy.”

“L-left hoof! My right hoof was tired!” The mortified Pegasus still wanted to salvage some of her battered pride.

Mac began to resent his sister’s sadistically smug expression. This wasn’t right. Rainbow was loud, cocky, and crass, but that was no reason to smash her self-image apart like this. Not to mention, she was AJ’s best friend. All AJ had to do was beat her. What was worse, she was enjoying herself.

“Seriously? Alright. Left hoof. Not that it’ll make no difference.”

At first, AJ feigned losing again. Then she decided it was time for trash talk, poking fun at her lack of upper body strength for somepony who was supposed to be an accomplished athlete. AJ then grew tired of the lopsided battle of hoof strength as she had before. Once again, Rainbow’s foreleg was crushed into the stump with seemingly no resistance. The little, blue Pegasus looked about ready to cry, and began pleading with his sister…

“Fine. You win. But I’m begging you, AJ. I can’t do this alone. I can't make this month's rent! I'm gonna' get tossed out on my ass! My landlord is a total d-bag! I got no other options, dude.” She was being a bit more dramatic than necessary. He knew AJ wouldn’t let her best friend get thrown out into the street. He began thinking about the potential spaces to be made in the house for Rainbow’s inevitable living arrangements...of course...he had to hear about all this at the last...fucking...possible minute. (Well, we got another mouth to feed.)

“My answer’s still “no.” I’m sorry you might be gettin’ laid off at work, but I can’t help ya' with this one. I gotta’ take care of my family. You know I can’t lie ‘bout that. A true friend don’t lie to ya’. And if ya’ can’t pay yer rent, then yer more tha-“ Mac was shocked by the sight of the blue filly’s explosive reaction. She was now right up to his sister’s face, her own face snarled in an expression of rage.

“It’s all about YOU, isn’t it?!! Every fucking time!! You don’t care about anypony but yourself and your motherfucking family!! FUCK ME and MY problems, right?! Yours are apparently more important than anypony else’s!! You think being honest about fucking me over makes you a good friend?!! Well, here’s a fucking newsflash, AJ: You’re a selfish cunt and a shitty friend!! FUCK YOU!!!” With the discharge of her vitriolic tirade complete, the Pegasus spread her wings and took to the sky, quickly disappearing into the late afternoon sky.

Mac was rendered speechless (more so than already, looks like) by the ferocity of Rainbow’s explosive outburst. He knew she likely didn’t mean any of it and had said those things purely out of frustration. But goddamn! Mac looked over to AJ to find that she was completely composed and calm. So, the minute he called her out on a legitimate flaw, she went apeshit? But her little friend could say some of the most awful, hateful things to her face…and she turned into Sigourneigh Weaver?! (Now that ain’t fair, man.) Regardless, AJ had caused the outburst by humiliating her friend.

“You know yer wrong fer that, AJ. Ya’ didn’t have to rub it in like that.”

“Don’t worry. Give her ‘bout five minutes. She does this all the time. ‘Sides…she left her bags ‘n money here.” AJ’s assessment was proven true by the sight of a blue Pegasus returning over the horizon. (Well, it was actually six minutes…but I’m splittin’ hairs.) Rainbow landed softly in front of them and walked up to AJ with her eyes staring at the ground. Her already sandy voice muttered an apology made hoarse by her recent demagoguery.

“Sorry.”

“S’alright, Rainbow. I’m sorry, too. I was bein’ a dang horse’s ass. But you done cut me off ‘fore I could finish tellin’ ya’ that ya’ always got a place to stay here at the farm. We got two empty guest bedrooms. And you ain’t gotta’ come harvest ‘gainst yer will or nothin’.

“T-thanks, AJ. I’ll still try to help you guys when I can, though.” Big Mac didn’t know what to think at this point.

He’d never had such a mixed opinion about a pony in his life. He was caught in a tumultuous maelstrom of admiration, confusion, irritation, pity, mirth, scintillation and…and…(What’s that last one? Feels kinda’ like homesickness. Whatever. Say what ya’ will ‘bout her temper an’ shortsightedness, but she definitely embodies the Element of Loyalty.) She was something alright. Mac just wasn't sure what that "something" entailed...or even was.

"I just wanted to knock ya’ down a peg is all.” The Pegasus flattened her ears and formed an irritated expression, sending AJ into a fit of giggles.

“Fuckin’ hysterical, dude. So, you’re not coming?”

“I’m sorry, Rainbow.” Rainbow began scratching her head…thinking about something. For a moment, Mac locked eyes with her, seeing them light up. She had an idea.

“W-what about you, Big Red? I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of it yet. You’d be a shoe-in for the stallion events! Seriously! Our chances of one of us winning gold is even better with a pony competing in each gender category!” Mac wasn’t too sure how well that math worked out.

Regardless, he was rather surprised she had even considered him, seeing as to how she had virtually never talked to him until just now. He saw her constantly and had even helped alongside Rainbow and her friends in deposing "The Great and Powerful Trixie" as the self-proclaimed ruler of Ponyville. (She tried to make me a part of her...*shudder* colt harem...) He'd never been this close to her before...except for that one time. He remembered Rainbow helping him power the treadmill that turned the apple grindstone during their cider feud with the Flim Flam brothers. She had seemed her normal, confident self except for one awry look she gave him that he assumed was nausea. (Did she eat a big meal ‘fore runnin’? You’d think an athlete'd know better ‘n that.) AJ quickly interceded on his behalf.

“Rainbow, that’s the same problem. Botha’ us need to be here to plant ‘n harvest, or we ain’t makin’ our orders. But feel free to try ‘n convince him to compete. You couldn’t get Mac up on a stage, cattin’ around fer everypony to see to save his life. So, I ain’t worried. I’ma’ go inside an’ help Apple Bloom with her homework. Play nice, you two.” That last, impish statement belied AJ having some sort of knowledge that he didn’t. She entered the farmhouse, leaving the two of them alone. Rainbow was the first to speak…somewhat.

“So…uhh…”

Mac raised one eyebrow, waiting for her to formulate an entire thought.

“Uhh…n-nice hat. And beard. Trying something new?”

“Eeyup.”

“Y-yeah...You don’t see a lot of stallions in town with facial hair…”

“Eenope.”

“S-so…uhh…” This was almost excruciating.

This timid, nervous creature was not at all the same fiery, little beast who had just crossed swords with his sister. For some reason, the very instant AJ had left them alone, her demeanor changed entirely. Did he make her uncomfortable? He was aware that he looked a little intimidating, but most ponies knew he was rather harmless...mostly...it depended on the situation, really. And she definitely wasn’t enamored with him like many of the mares around town. She didn't have any of the tell-tale signs of swooning in his presence, giggling incessantly like a pothead, or catcalling him like most of the local mares. It was almost a reversal of the behaviors associated with each gender. He knew how pretty mares passing construction sites felt getting whistled at by the burly, crass stallions who worked there. But it wasn't as though he especially minded, seeing as it a nice boost to his somewhat frail ego. This girl was acting entirely different. She couldn't make eye contact with him, and she was acting all jittery. She seemed…frightened. (And did she go an' get her nose, lip, and ear pierced recently?)

“Miss Dash, you were askin’ me ‘bout whether or not I’d consider enterin’ that contest with you.” He had decided to take the pressure off her.

“O-oh, yeah. Do you wanna’ do it? Do the contest…thing…I didn’t mean “do me” or “do it with me” or something…uhh…eheheh…I’ll shut up now.” After her first utterance of the word “it”, he had no idea what she’d just said.

“I’ll be needin’ a bit more information ‘bout the competition were I to consider participatin’.”

“Oh, cool. No prob. I think I got some flyers in my bag…s-so have you seen my saddlebags? I know I left 'em here…but I…can’t…I know it’s not your job to keep up with my stuff or anything…”

“Yer bags are right behind you, Miss Dash.”

“Oh, sweet. Thanks, man. Not saying you’re “sweet”, though! Unless…uhh…lemme get out a flyer…here…” She awkwardly passed him the cobalt blue, official-looking paper. She smiled at him uneasily. He wished she would just calm down. She was starting to make him uneasy, too. He thoroughly read the flyer's prize listings.

“Hmm…says here bronze prize is 10k bits, silver is 100k, and gold is a million. Are these figures ‘fore or after taxes?”

“Uhh…I think after. It should say on the sheet.”

“Ah, here it is. Yep. Say’s they’re after taxes. That’s an awful lotta’ money fer a simple competition, Miss Dash. The Equestrian Games don’t pay this much.”

“Well…err…that’s like…cuz this whole thing is sponsored by a ton of companies n’ shit. They pay out the prize money and use the whole thing as advertising or something. The Equestrian Games are more like symbolic…international and stuff. I dunno’. So…whaddya’ think?”

“Hmm. I ain’t so sure ‘bout this, Miss Dash.” The whole scenario was indeed a gamble, as AJ had so pointedly aforementioned.

Not only would he have to take time off from the farm to train, but he’d also have to pay an entry fee. And all this held no guarantee of winning anything at all. But he had to do something to pay off the bank debt. How long before they started to miss payments, prompting collections agents to harass them every day? (I’ll be GODDAMNED if Granny’s gotta’ sell her quilts just fer us to make ends meet.) Maybe Rainbow was right. Maybe you did need to take risks to avoid inevitable failure.

“Come on! Please! AJ says you’re the strongest pony alive all the time, dude! You’d friggin’ smash the competition!” The little Pegasus started using every filly’s natural defense mechanism: the dreaded “puppy eyes.” She probably wasn’t even aware she was using them, considering they appeared the to be the very anathema to her personality.

“Uhh…I don’t thin-“

“Please?”

“I…uhh…” He couldn’t hold out much longer. Growing up in a house full of mares had made him uncommonly susceptible to their tactics. (You’d think it’d be the other way ‘round…)

"Pretty please?"

"Well..." (Gonna'...cave soon...)

"Please?"

"I dunno..."

“Please?” He only had one option to fend off this adorable assault.

“I need time to think, Miss Dash. How ‘bout I sleep on it? I can make a decision in the mornin’.”

“Alright. That’s cool…n-no pressure, dude. Here, take the flyer so you can read it later.” She passed him a small, white piece of crinkled paper from her saddlebag. It didn’t take him long to realize her error.

“I believe this is a receipt fer a Batmare movie reel, Miss Dash.” (Why would she need somethin’ like that? Where’d she even get a movie projector?)

“Oh, shit…my bad. H-here’s the flyer.”, she said while shakily passing him the blue flyer.

“Will you be by the farm tomorrow? I can’t exactly come knockin’ on a Pegasus’s front door.”

“Oh, right. Hey, how ‘bout we meet up at Sugarcube Corner tomorrow for breakfast to talk it over? They just opened a waffle bar! My treat!”

“Hmm…I ‘spose that’s alright, but I ain’t lettin’ a lady pay my way. Ain’t right. Is 7:00 A.M. alright with you, Miss Dash?” Chivalry was only as dead to Big Mac as he himself decided it was. And he decided it wasn’t.

“O-okay, sure. 7:00 o’ clock is fine. Seeya’ then.”

“Lookin’ forward to it, Miss Dash.” She responded with a series of nervous giggles and finally took off into the late afternoon sky. After she had disappeared from view, Mac uttered two words.

“Strange filly.” He walked up to the farmhouse screen door, opening it only halfway before hearing an indignant voice wailing from the kitchen.

“But why do I even need to learn long division?! I ain’t ever gonna’ use it fer nothin’! It ain’t fair!!” Big Mac sighed with an exasperated resignation.

“Pa’s ole flask, here I come.”

Rainbow Dash had just returned to her cloudy apartment after a decidedly terrible night out with her spastic, pink friend. Shortly after getting to their favorite watering hole and hangout, The Horseshoe, Pinkie Pie drank eight shots of vodka and six beers by herself. Rainbow had only time enough for two beers, before her friend had gotten completely annihilated. After getting thoroughly shitfaced, she then proceeded to make a complete ass of herself by making a pass at every colt in the bar and singing karaoke drunkenly off-key while refusing to let anypony else take the stage. After Pinkie had tried to stick her tongue down the throat of a rather tough-looking, short-tempered mare’s coltfriend, the enraged mare beaned Pinkie with an empty beer bottle, splitting her scalp open and knocking her off the karaoke stage. Of course, Rainbow had been stuck footing the bill both for Pinkies drinks and her hospital bill, seeing as to how the pink nightmare was entirely broke until her next paycheck, and the night out had been Rainbow’s treat to begin with. And she still had rent to pay. (Good to see I got my priorities straight.)

“Yo, Derpy! You home!?”, she bellowed using Ditzy Do’s less than flattering nickname. Her roommate wasn’t home yet. (Probably dropped by her mouthbreather of a coltfriend’s place after work.) But another friend of her’s was home. (He’s always home. He can’t exactly fly after I took away that helicopter thing. Good thing, too. I can’t afford another concussion.)

“Tank! Here, boy! Come to Mamma!” Rainbow only used her more cutesy, gushy tone of voice when she was alone with her favorite pet tortoise. But why was she calling him? It’d likely take all night for him to make it to where she was currently standing. (Tank’s slower than a Special Ed spelling bee.) He was usually basking in the warmth of a heat lamp she’d installed, sitting on top of his little pile of blankets in her room. He was probably starving by now, seeing as she’d forgotten to feed the poor, little guy before hitting the town with Pinkie.

Rainbow walked through her fluffy living room, realizing that she really needed to clean the place up. She knew she wasn’t the reigning champ for the title of “Sloppiest Pony Alive”, but she had to at least be a contender. The entirety of the living room with strewn with pizza boxes, garbage bags placed in the corner, and more than a few empty beer cans. Derpy wasn’t much more tidy than she, so the apartment was always a sty. Ditzy could barely fly, let alone clean up the place what with her lazy eye and all. She stepped into her room across from Ditzy Doo’s, seeing her little, green friend sitting in the exact same place as she had guessed.

“D’aaaawwww…hey there, buddy. Who's a good, little tortoise? Awww…I didn’t know you were sleepin’, baby. Sorry I left ya’ all alone. You hungry? Lemme’ check your food bowl.” Tank had awoken to greet her with a barely audible croak, and Rainbow began tickling the bottom of his chin with her forehoof. Having clearly missed her thoroughly and enjoying the newfound attention, he slowly smiled at his beloved mistress, his hazely brown eyes alight with a simple love and affection. Rainbow could see he still had a good bit of fresh lettuce and tomato slices in his food bowl, and his water bowl was also full.

“What’s wrong, baby? Aren’t you hungry? Are you sick? Poor, little guy…” Tank blankly smiled at her with no indicator of any sort of malaise. Maybe he was still full from breakfast and lunch.

Rainbow decided to take advantage of her roommate’s absence and opened a drawer in the night stand by her bed, procuring a small, black box and a translucent, plastic bag of what appeared to be a clumpy oregano seasoning. She set the baggie on her bed and opened her closet, setting her signature saddlebags down inside. She picked up Tank and laid back on her bed, sitting him on her stomach (Man, you’re getting heavy, bro.) After taking the small, orange bong and lighter out of the box, she loaded the bong with a substantial chunk of verdant kush. She lit the protruding stem filled with green wonder and took in a massive lungful of the acrid, psychoactive smoke. Almost immediately, the entire day’s embarrassments, fears, and problems evaporated. She held the smoke for longer than she could normally, coughing and sputtering it out. (Damn, this shit is strong. Where does Scratch get this stuff?)

After several more massive insufflations from the bubbling water pipe, she was completely relaxed, feeling almost goofy with pleasure and a sense of general well being. A giggling fit overtook her as Tank slid off her torso, rolling upside down while trying to kick his legs to right himself. She rolled him back on top of her and took one last puff, fully depleting the last of the cannabis. (Crap. At least I got a few grams left, though.) She didn't smoke very often...usually just when she had an extraordinarily crappy day like this one. If she laid about all the time smoking weed and acting like a lazy stoner, she wouldn't have the drive or motivation to practice her flying or take on her Element of Loyalty-related duties. The giggly delirium began forcing her mind to take a philosophical assessment of her life thus far, using her tortoise as the sole listener in a captive audience. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind much. She began manically chattering, her voice mildly distorted and slurred from the pot smoke.

“Well, Tank, I’m a twenty year old mare who’s probably getting laid off from her job soon. I live in this crappy apartment with a wall-eyed roomie who’d probably freak out and think we’re gonna’ get arrested or something if she caught me smoking. She always was a goody two-hooves. All my friends are busy with their own things, and I have to come up with this month’s rent in a week. Not to mention tuition for the Academy’s next training semester. That isn’t til December, though. Spitfire and Soarin’ are too busy with their show schedule during most of the year to have any more than one class of cadets. At least they made me a captain...that was neat. But still... Make’s ya’ wonder how they even manage to keep their numbers up when they only have one class a year, huh? Speakin' a' which, I think I'm getting a little chunky around the midsection, 'cuz I haven't been keeping up with my training like I should. I think I need to lay off eating at Sugarcube Corner everyday. All the pizza and beer probably ain't helpin' either. Whaddya' think, Tank?” The tortoise merely smiled at her. Rainbow directed her pot-addled thoughts to her pink friend’s exploits.

“And like, dude! Don’t even get me started on friggin’ Pinkie! She almost got us permanently banned from The Horseshoe! That’s one of the few places in town that doesn’t completely suck. Hold on a second, though. Imma’ put some music on.”

She gently laid her little friend on the Wonderbolts-themed bed, rose to her hooves, and walked towards her closet, feeling a bit more wobbly than normal (This stuff is friggin’ top shelf.) The cloudy walls seemed to vacillate back and forth, making it a bit disorienting for her to walk. She took out a small stereo and cassette player and stuffed a single, nearby tape of her favorite hair metal band in the open slot. She plugged the stereo into the wall socket by her night stand and pressed the play button, getting back into bed to resume her retrospective tangent with her tortoise friend’s company. (Ain’t technology rad?)

The wailing guitar and high-pitched voice of the frontman for Love Battalion, Lyle Sixstrings, filled her bedroom. After letting a simple nostalgia wash over her during the initial song’s chaotic intro, the power ballad slowly quieted into decrescendo. The melodic crooning of her favorite lead vocalist filled the room.. The soft yet powerful sound of Lyle’s voice had always had a strong effect on her emotions, often even bringing her to tears. She decided to let the song end before continuing her one-sided conversation with Tank. She held him close in her forelegs and sang along quietly to the chorus, feeling confident no pony else was aware of her vulnerability.

“Baby, I’ll never let you go!!

No matter what you say!

When you leave me, I’m always low.

You’re in my heart now here to stay!

Angel, I’d die for you tonight!!

To save you from this Hell!!

For your love, I’ll gladly fight!

Every battle without fail!!

I’ll never let you go… The soft crooning trailed off into silence.

The song opened up again with a dramatic guitar solo, frantically discharging it’s romantic melody in an epic climax. Rainbow giggled at the power ballad’s melodramatic conclusion. If any of her friends (or if he’d seen me) had seen her singing along to the dated chorus, she’d have been mortified. She knew Love Battalion was a little cheesy and outdated, but the band meant something special to her. Her dad had been a fan of their music back when he was dating her mother in high school, and he had passed his love for their bombastic, romantic style of hair metal onto his only daughter. (Or is it glam metal?) Thinking of her father disconcerted her, so she decided to continue her day’s debriefing with Tank.

“Oh, yeah. I never finished telling you about my day. Still wanna’ hear it? Or is it too boring?” The tortoise only smiled lovingly at her with that simple kind of affection only seen between a pet and it’s master. Apparently, he was just happy to be along for the ride. She affectionately rubbed her nose into his neck and squealed when he playfully nipped at her ear.

“Heheheh…well about tonight, that’s just Pinkie Pie’s MO. Get drunk. Fuck shit up. Rinse. Repeat. She had over 80 bits in drinks! It was my turn to pay, so I told her to just get whatever she wanted. Big mistake, dude. About eight shooters and a full six pack, man! She just went apeshit after that…like…jeez, I dunno’…she started mackin’ on every stallion in the place and wouldn’t get off the karaoke stage. She friggin’ tongued this one girl’s boyfriend!! That bitch got mad and smashed a bottle on her melon. I had to take her to the friggin’ meat factory to get her dome fixed. Of course...she passed out on the way. Take a guess who had to carry her fat ass? Trust me. Earth ponies are friggin’ heavy. She had to get six stitches, dude. The doc took her blood alcohol level before that, and said it was almost .38!! He said if she’d weighed only about ten pounds less, she woulda’ died! He couldn’t even staple her head back together until they stabilized her ‘n shit. They’re keeping her overnight. They got her hooked up to a catheter and an IV or somethin’. “Hemodialysis,” whatever that means. Of course, I had to pay for the stitches. Pinkie blew through all her paycheck the last time we hung out. Can you believe that shit?!”

Rainbow knew that she loved Pinkie Pie dearly, but the pink-hued embodiment of the Element of Laughter was almost a constant source of chaos and problems. Pinkie had a remarkable penchant for destroying things unintentionally and throwing wild parties. Rainbow herself was a bit impulsive and liked to mix it up a little now and then as much as the next pony, but Pinkie Pie rivaled Discord in terms of random bullshit and reckless abandon. Rainbow had been sincerely worried for her friend’s life, and she’d most certainly give her an earful as soon as she was released from the hospital. Not that it would do any good...Pinkie didn't seem to have the capacity for learning from her mistakes. Rainbow was rather selfish herself at times, but she was usually mindful of her friends’ feelings and tried to keep them from worrying about her…for the most part. (Like with AJ earlier today.)

But despite all the night’s negativity, she didn’t regret bringing her along. Pinkie was always the life of the party, and her mere presence was a practical guarantee of fun. Rainbow had thoroughly enjoyed her single hour at the bar with Pinkie more so than any other hour all week. Before she got too hammered, the Horseshoe’s entire patronage was trying to hang out with her. After she’d sung her first song on the karaoke stage, everypony was cheering for her, egging her on, and offering to buy her drinks. (She’s an awesome singer. That’s nothing special, though. It’s getting her to shut up that’s impressive.)

A sudden pang of jealousy struck her. Rainbow wasn’t jealous of Pinkie simply due to the fact that she herself wasn’t the center of attention in her company, a scenario for which she staunchly reserved a special sort of loathing. It was something else that had bothered her much more. All the single colts had been trying to get Pinkie’s number. Not a one noticed Rainbow. She had been reduced to playing damage control for her drunken friend. She practically had to tackle the bartender just to get another beer, because he was too busy flirting with Pinkie. (Some wing-girl she was.) A simple acknowledgement from at least one of them would've been nice, let alone anything more intimate.

“I guess…I AM a little jealous of Pinkie. Nopony knows how to draw a crowd like her…but then again…sometimes that's a bad thing. No pony even noticed me. If I’m not flyin’ stunts or doin’ some extreme shit, I may as well not exist so far as most ponies here are concerned. Remember how I’ve been worried about my job all day? Well, I flew out to AJ’s to see if she’d sign up with me for that Iron Pony competition in Canterlot in three months. I saw the advertisement for it in the paper at lunch. The 1st place gold medalists get a million bit prize! Long story short: AJ shot me down, ‘cuz she had to deal with the harvest. I tried to hoof wrestle to get to get her to join…but she…friggin’ annihilated me. I got so pissed, I blew up in her face and called her a “shitty friend.” I apologized later, but I think the damage was done. AJ didn’t have to show me up in front of Big Red like that…he saw the whole thing, dude. I wanted to like…crawl inna’ whole and die. Then again, maybe I shouldn't have tried wrestling her.” The thought of Ponyville’s most sought after bachelor brought a pink taint to her light blue cheeks. What did he think of her, after she’d gotten so easily thrashed and insulted his baby sister like that?

The only other times in her life where she had been this embarrassed were the Zucchini Incident, almost all of her high school days, the Gabby Gums Incident, and when she’d tried hitting on Thunderlane, one of her coworkers at the station. Rainbow had always found the black stallion striking, but she couldn’t muster the courage to ask him out sober. Of course, the whole thing blew up in her face after she found out that the mohawked Pegasus was already dating one of her other coworkers, Blossomforth. It had been exceptionally awkward working with the two of them on the task of transporting emergency rainwater to Cloudsdale with tornado power.

She should have guessed where Blossomforth had gotten that cough. (Thunderlane's friggin' tongue down her throat.) Rainbow had always held a torch for Big Mac, but sometimes he seemed like an impossible goal. Besides...she needed to get comfortable just dating and talking to colts were she to even have a chance with the big, red stallion. Plus...she wanted to know how to do...that...she wanted to be good at it. Then she could be normal. Enjoy herself. And she needed to be good at it for another reason. So she could keep him...Big Mac...he wouldn't hang around if she was boring in the sack. (Is he really like that?) But she wasn't just some stupid, dowdy chick who couldn't even think straight if a colt so much as winked at her! She was independent. Strong...confident....fearless...awesome (lonely....angry...depressed...bitter.)

As awkward as it was to have to still work with Thunderlane and Blossomforth after all that, having to deal with her high school tormentor and her lackey, Flitter and Cloudchaser respectively, in a professional capacity the same day had been worse...whether Rainbow had been in charge of them or not. Cloudchaser was okay when she was by herself, albeit she was still somewhat of a cunt...but when she was with Flitter...the duo were Hell on Earth for Rainbow. The entire rainwater-collecting ordeal they had discreetly harangued her, calling her "lesbo"...saying she was overcompensating for something...whispering insults back and forth...snickering. They had even insulted her to her face, telling her that they didn't mind the fact that she was in charge that day. They said as pathetic and worthless she was, the least ponies could do for her was let her run a simple rainwater collection.

She was self-conscious of her scratchy voice...her disheveled appearance...her androgyny...her lack of social skills...and her sexuality. Flitter had exploited all of these things to fuck with her back in high school. And the bitch had only done it out of sheer boredom! Rainbow had been devastated....she dreaded going to school everyday, knowing she would just get humiliated in some new, inventive way of Flitter's making. Rainbow recalled once how Flitter had stolen her jersey that she wore running for the track team...when Rainbow finally go it back Flitter had changed her nametape from "Rainbow Dash" to "Angry Dyke." Rainbow hadn't known about the change...of course, not until the audience kept snickering at her one day during an important track meet. Flitter had even changed her name on the roster so the announcer would call it out unintentionally. And he had...over the intercomm...for everypony to hear. (At least the bitch was creative.) And Rainbow couldn't just kick her ass...although she'd considered it. That would only validate the rumors.

But that was only an example of one of Flitter's less damaging schemes. She later did much worse. Rainbow couldn't deal with it all time. She had pleaded with her mother to let her drop out, a prospect for which the well-educated mare reserved a great disdain. But that wasn't what had caused it all. She knew where it had all started...that day in that public restroom...those teeth...that tattoo...her father. The blood. How awful it had been. ("Hush now, baby doll." Don't think about that!!!...nononofucknoplease..) She banished the obscenities from her thoughts. She wasn't ready to face them yet.

Flitter did this all behind her back, of course. But that was how she operated. She pretended to be all sweet and nice at first...then she tore into you like a wolverine once you had your back turned. Most ponies had no idea how loathsome the greyish lilac Pegasus truly was. Rainbow knew she sometimes babysat foals for extra cash. The parents who hired her didn't know how vile the girl who was to watch their foals truly was. She didn't understand why Flitter even needed the money. Wasn't her dad some sort of filthy- rich asshole who owned a petroleum business based in Manehattan? Why did Flitter even need a job?

Fluttershy had barely been insulted by the two bitchy Pegasi that day before running off to feel sorry for herself. She had no idea how badly they had slandered and bullied Rainbow her freshman year. The thought made Rainbow's blood boil. Everypony always ran off to check on Fluttershy's feelings while she had to constantly be the "tough one." No pony gave a fuck about her feelings in high school when her reputation had been destroyed, demolishing any attempt at making new friends. Her current friends just assumed she was immune to insults. Immune to being put down...or ignored. They thought she had an immutable resolve...an unwavering confidence in herself. They meant well..but...they didn't get it. Get her.

Gilda had been her only friend before Rainbow met Twilight and the others. She had met Gilda at the Junior Flyers class when she was just eight years old...just before she had performed her first Sonic Rainboom by beating those three a-hole colts who were teasing Fluttershy in a race. Fluttershy had been grateful, but she wouldn't become a close friend of Rainbow's until some years later. Except for...a certain friend she had made several years ago, the butch Griffoness had been her only friend. Gilda told Rainbow that she had to be a bitch...a complete hard-assed cunt...she had to be tougher than anypony else to get what she wanted in life...to get people to stop teasing her.

But hanging out with Gilda for so long came with a price. Eventually, rumors about the two of them spread...rumors about what the two of them did with each other. False rumors. The Griffoness's masculine behavior had earned her a reputation as a bull dyke all through middle school...and Rainbow was her girlfriend. Eventually, the two of them just grew apart until Gilda's more recent visit to Ponyville. But the theory of them had persisted all the way up to the current. The rumors had been devastating...the snickering...the looks...they didn't get it. Rainbow knew it wasn't true about either of them, surprising as that may have been. Gilda had been dating some male Griffon who worked at the train yard in Fillydelphia. Gilda made the guy out to be some kind of badass. Supposedly, he was a recently Equestrianized citizen who had been some sort of commando when he was in the Gryphonic Military...Rainbow wasn't sure about all that. Gilda lied a lot. But she had seen the two of them together once. She was straight. (Certainly didn't act like it, though.)

But Lightning Dust wasn't. The turqoise-coated Pegasus had made a pass at Rainbow once, while the two of them were partnered at the Wonderbolts Academy. At first, she had thought Lightning was pretty cool...and she was at first. But the girl had propositioned Rainbow one night in the mare's dorm... After Rainbow turned her down, the two of them had to continue working together...it had been exceedingly awkward. Rainbow knew that much of the reason Lightning Dust had behaved so recklessly was to impress Dash...(ugh)...and after getting shot down, the girl had stopped giving a fuck. She endangered Rainbow's other teammates...and her best friends. That had pissed her off substantially, but the new set of rumors about their supposed relationship with one another were almost as bad. The other cadets thought the two of them had had a lover's spat. They didn't get it. Rainbow didn't have any specific beef with homosexuals, but it was sickening to her to be accused of being something that she wasn't. It was the equivalent of asking a mare who wasn't pregnant "when's the baby due?"

Rainbow had no pony to really confide in...she had Tank but he wasn't much of a talker. When she was feeling shitty, she had to just bottle it all up. She sympathized with stallions a bit...she knew how it felt...to not let anything out like that. She had to be tough. Fearless. She went through much of her teens...feeling bitter...angry...until she'd met her five friends some time later, Rainbow had been alone for much of her life. (But everypony stop what you're doing!! Fluttershy's got another personal crisis!!) Her expression darkened. Ponies always reached out to her, no matter how shyly and pitifully she behaved. Rainbow always had to suck it up and keep on keeping on. A small part of her resented all of her five friends' abilities to garner attention with little effort , albeit she knew this was an awful thing to think. Rainbow had frequently lashed out at them out of jealousy...they just took the abuse in stride. They were such good friends. She didn't deserve them.

Her bombastic behavior was partially a cover for her low self-image. She always needed to be noticed. Liked. Validated. Her friends had humiliated her once with the whole Mare Do Well Incident. They had meant well, but it'd had an awful effect on her local image. Most ponies thought she was just full of herself, jumping around in public declaration of how "awesome" she was. Even after having saved that filly from the well and all those old folks at the retirement center, Ponyville had forgotten her. (Fucking ingrates...) No matter how many Rainbooms she performed...no matter what a heroine she tried to be...the only things they remembered were their perceptions that she was arrogant...cocky...crass...rude...and gay.

Her friends had meant well...but they didn't truly know her on the inside. The part of herself she hid. The part she wanted to share with somepony special...more than anything. She had lied before about herself to boost her self-esteem. Her friends always called her on it...but the others didn't know fact from fiction. She was proud of herself for her flying abilities...but she needed more. No. Fuck that. She was motherfucking Rainbow Dash!! She wasn't some frail, little filly who couldn't deal with adversity (unlike Fluttershy). She was tough. She was brave. She didn't take shit from anypony! Nope. She was awesome. The ponies that didn't like her were just assholes. She wasn't some whiny, gawky teenager anymore. She wouldn't just sit here and pity herself! She wasn't like one of those "cutters" or hipsters who wrote poetry about being sad or some shit! The THC's euphoria had seemingly faded after thinking such somber thoughts. Thankfully, another thought lightened her mood substantially

“But it ain’t all bad! Turns out, I got Big Mac interested in competing! He wants to use the prize money to pay the bank off, so they don’t repo the farm. He’s like…the strongest dude ever. Half the events are strength-based, so I think our chances are pretty good. Worst case scenario is we both just end up with silver or bronze. Still pretty sweet, though. But...I…uhh…kinda acted like a spaz talkin’ to ‘im at first, though…you know?...after AJ left me alone with him. I even handed 'im my Batmare receipt instead of the flyer!" The thought of her awkward behavior hours before sent her into another giggling fit.

“Jeez…It’s not so bad when I got other ponies around and he’s there…he usually just sorta’ chills in the background. It’s when I’m alone with him…I kinda’ don’t know what to do. Who’d have guessed the hottest guy in town was related to friggin’ AJ? How does anypony even get that jacked? I guess I don’t know to talk to colts too well. I don’t wanna’ like ask Rarity for help, ‘cuz she’d blab it all over town. You’re pretty much the closest thing I’ve ever had to a boyfriend…hey, don’t look at me like that! I didn’t mean anything like THAT. I ain’t that desperate, Tank.” Maybe not...but she was pretty desperate. And alone. Always alone. In her bed...where her friends couldn't follow...tell her what she needed to hear.

“But back to Mac, I get all…you know…twitchy and nervous and say stupid shit. I don’t think he’s all the way on board with the competition, ‘cuz he said he’d sleep on it. I’m meeting him tomorrow morning for breakfast to hear his decision. I’m actually feeling pretty good about him signing up. It’s hard to be negative when you got an endless waffle bar! That’ll be three months of training together until we compete. So, I’ll get to spend a lot of time with him…get to know ‘im…maybe uhh…I’ll like…start to grow on him? I know all the mares in town are gonna’ be so jelly! So…yeah. I’m pretty stoked!”

The tortoise only continued his loving vigil over her, being fully incapable of understanding a word of Rainbow’s giggly, THC-induced tangent. Rainbow knew the day had been a rough one, but her coming breakfast rendezvous with Big Macintosh had put it in an optimistic light. She wasn't some amorous imbecile who only cared about what the boys thought of her. She just wanted one of them. One to think highly of her. Then she'd be satisfied. Just one...just a certain Apple stallion...that's all she wanted. Well, that and to become a Wonderbolt. Obviously. She didn't feel it was too much to ask for. It was a pretty humble wishlist. There were tons of guys out there, so it wouldn't be as though she were depleting their availability. And Rainbow was likely already the best flyer in all Equestria...so it wasn't as though she didn't deserve to be a Wonderbolt. After all she'd done for Ponyville and Equestria? (Huh! Don't even!) Stopping Nightmare Moon, Discord, and Queen Chrysalis with her friends... It was the very least the universe could do to reward her good karma.

All in all, Rainbow decided that her life wasn’t so bad. Her corporate interview with the Nimbus auditors was in three days, but Stan had made a good point about her almost exclusively handling all of Ponyville’s weather. Maybe they would decide to keep her? She’d still have plenty of time to train for the competition. Maybe she was having a turn of luck for the better. She put away the drug paraphernalia and set Tank on top his blankets, kissing the top of his head and bidding him good night. She turned off the hair metal-blasting stereo and jumped into bed. After snuggling under her covers and finding the most comfortable position, she slowly began drifting off…but one last thought graced her mind that she chose to speak aloud…

“Silver lining, I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Big Macintosh was dreaming. He didn’t know it at first, as he was dreaming himself lying in his bed with his bedroom window open. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary upon his initial assessment with the granted exception of a rather strong wind blowing into the room with a considerable intensity. But as he gradually became aware he was dreaming, he began to suspect something was off. It was subtle at first. This bedroom that his subconscious had fabricated looked very similar to it’s real life counterpart. But everything just seemed…slightly wrong… It was an unnerving, eerie feeling that felt a bit similar to the feeling that somepony might get upon returning to his home, expecting all of his belongings to be as he’d left them, but he discovers everything had been moved to a just barely discernible degree. This strange, surreal bedroom was difficult to differentiate from his actual bedroom, and that fact only seemed to amplify the inherent “wrongness” of it. Slowly, he began to notice all that was different about the dream room, rising from his bed to closer investigate the anomalies.

The floorboards were strangely warped, forming bizarre patterns and uneven footing. His curtains weren’t flowing with the wind at all, despite the powerful, howling onslaught blowing against them. Upon closer examination of his typically cream-colored, apple patterned wallpaper, he found that the color had changed to a sickly yellow hue, and the perfectly aligned rows and columns of apple shapes had been replaced by small images of disembodied eyes, lips, and teeth that ascribed to no such order. But the most disturbing aberration was the moonlight that was painting his dreamworld bedroom with a nauseating, hospital green light. Big Mac began to feel afraid. His fear was exacerbated by a sudden noise coming from inside his closet.

Mac could barely breathe. He slowly approached. A new, unearthly sound began it’s assault on his sanity: The somewhat quiet sound of a stallion’s muffled screams coming in the form of radio static. Mac stepped back from the folding closet door, as he watched it begin to dissolve into a gooey mass of brown liquid all across the unevenly warped floor. A tall figure standing on two legs emerged, emitting the garbled, static gibberish with an increased volume. The petrified Apple stallion immediately recognized the figure as it stepped into the obscene moonlight.

“Pa?! Is that you?! The fuck is go-“ He stopped himself in mid-sentence upon making an awful discovery. Although it was somewhat uncommon for most ponies to walk about on two legs, it wasn’t incredibly rare or at all strange. No. What horrified Mac was seeing his father’s once gentle, mischievous countenance had changed to a blank, emotionless stare. The sienna brown-coated, dirty blonde-maned older stallion stared mindlessly towards the bedroom door which lead to the upstairs hallway. The bizarre imposter’s eyes were opened so wide, that they appeared virtually devoid of eyelids. It began walking forward towards the door with an utterly alien gait, making a metallic tinkling sound with every step as though it were filled with bottle caps. The creature’s joints popped and crackled with every movement, as it continued it’s unnatural stride toward the door with sudden, jerked movements. All the while it continued to emit it’s static nonsense.

Big Mac watched his bedroom door dissolve into liquid the same as did his closet upon the touch of his mannequin-father’s hoof. The unworldly creature walked into the open bathroom that Mac regularly used, the bright light switching on entirely of it’s own volition. He could now see this bizarre creature in full detail, albeit he would soon regret it. The creature’s skin looked…leathery…and shiny…almost like an inflatable raft or balloon. The anomalous imposter squared up with the bathroom mirror, stopping it’s strange walk to stare into it as though it were some great, reflective void. Mac nervously followed it and stood just behind it at an angle to the door. Then…the static stopped suddenly.

Mac was treated to yet another horror, as the father-creature leaned over the sink and began vomiting a long torrent of single- bit, copper pieces into it. With it’s load of coins lying now in the sink, the father-creature looked completely deflated and was replete with the now wrinkled folds of it’s skin. It’s crinkled, leathery countenance suddenly twisted it’s neck, swiveling it’s head around towards where Big Mac was standing at an angle and velocity that surely would have been the death of a real pony. It opened it’s gaping, deflated maw and again began emitting it’s blood chilling static. The otherworldly mouth of the creature also began spewing in equal abundance what Mac recognized by smell to be tobacco smoke.

The surreal voice screaming through the garbled mess of smoke and static seemed a bit more discernibly clear. The bizarre, alien shrieks seemed to now consist of a single, muddled sentence, playing in an endless loop. Incapable of moving or even doing anything really from sheer terror, Mac tried to comprehend the horrible gibberish. Once again, he wished he hadn’t. He slowly became aware of yet another noise coming from right behind him. It was a slow, rattled breathing sound…the breath sounded moist, as though it’s owner’s lungs were full of fluid. It was the breathing of a mare. Big Mac finally understood what this deflated aberration's looped message was attempting to communicate. Horror swallowed his mind..

“Your mother is here, too.”

Mac dropped to the floor in a fetal position, covering his eyes with his hooves and shrieking in abject terror…praying that it would all just go away. His wish was granted. Slowly, the surreal bedroom and bathroom faded from his subconscious mind, as he drifted into the sweet, merciful oblivion of a new, dreamless sleep. He awoke some time later, checking the alarm clock sitting atop his bedside nightstand and spoke aloud it’s proclamation of the hour.

“4:31 A.M……”

He laid his head back down on his pillow and stared up at the ceiling. For the first time in what had seemed an eternity, he began hysterically sobbing like a child.

Author's Notes:

I'm not condoning drug use, by the way. Just seemed like something Rainbow might do habitually.

As for the slow development of the story, just be patient. This is going to be a LONG story, my friends.
I solemnly swear to make a marginally sufficient effort to improve the story in later chapters.

And OH! But how sufficient it will be! Tolerable even!